"The Death Trap"

The sun is scorching through the clear cloudless skies, making the black tar covering the pavement boil as if the pits of Hell itself were directly beneath. Not even a simple deer would brave it across the 10 feet of blackened highway. The only shade available would be provided by the immense oak trees scattered alongside the ditch on either side, but with the blinding sun directly above, there is not one patch of shade covering the highway for miles. In the distance a faint, but constant roar can be heard. The sound resembles that of 1,000 demons screaming as they chase their prey. The sound is getting louder and louder and as if no time at all had passed, the beast flies by, scorching the very pavement as if it were aflame itself. Just as soon as it could be seen, it disappeared into the distance once more. What was this monstrous creature? Could it have been a demon from the tales we heard as children? No, this was no demon, but a mere mortal man, a man on a mission, a mission to ride. To find freedom, to chase his passion and to escape the everyday monotonous life that many are forced to accept. This freedom he had been tirelessly searching for could be found sitting atop 2 wheels as the engine below screams down the highway, cutting effortlessly through the wind as if it were a warm knife through butter. The heat from the sun desperately trying to catch up to him as he leaves it choking in the dust behind him. The smell of the warm grassy air fills his nostrils as he burns through every twist and turn as if it were nothing more than a slight bend in the road grinding bit by bit from the pegs beneath his feet. As he grasps the throttle and pulls back, his heart races and the blood in his veins pump with force through every inch of his body with every lunge the bike makes. With every gear he shifts through, the hair on his neck raises and his determination increases. He is unstoppable, he is mighty, and he has found exactly what he had been looking for... freedom... He is me, never looking back.

The road... anywhere along the road. This is where I'd rather be. Grabbing my black, full face modular helmet, sliding down into my leather seat of my Shadow and hitting the ignition and hearing that engine spark and fire into a roar of life. The rumble beneath me, stretching from head to toe to the tips of my fingers, wrapped around the grips. I squeeze the soft rubber of my grips and step it down into first as I hold the clutch in and feel the click of first gear. It's not just a sound, it's a jolt through your leg up to your brain. It's the green light in your head to pull back that throttle and release the clutch and launch down the road. The winding, twisting curves of every turn. The trees and grass and bushes of each side. Maybe fences surrounding fields to keep in cattle or horses. The black and grey pavement and tiny cracks that pass by. The yellow lines, be it solid or strips, leading the way as you glide by. The fragrance of the grass and pastures hidden in the wind. The smell of oak and pine trees and flowers, of pollen and fire wood. That unexplainable smell of a brisk wind that hits the senses and relaxes the body making you feel one with the road. Every smell leaves a sweet taste of the outdoors in the back of your pallet. Maybe reminding you of another memory like the firewood and a BBQ. You may have remembered that BBQ joint back home that served the best pulled pork you've ever found. Your mouth waters at the thought. You feel the wind rush past your entire body, blowing and crashing into your chest and legs. You feel the bike rumble as you throttle up and down, gliding over the pavement through dips and valleys, hills and curves. You feel the foot rest touch and drag along the road as you turn hard into a sharp curve. Scrapping and sparking along the pavement. The whoosh of the wind rushing by. The roar of the engine turning spark into energy and fuel into feel. As you throttle hard, the bike picks up and pushes you back with the new found momentum. Nothing else matters... I forget every problem that may be pressing me. Every person that may be throwing what they can at me, trying to bring down my spirits. I fade away from any frustration or pain I may have and melt into the road itself, never looking back. I escape from the troubles in life and find new, more effective ways to live and progress. New thoughts, new emotions. I rise into my own personal Nirvana leaving my worries behind in the dust of the road.

Ambrosia Callione

Ambrosia Callione stands about 6’3, towering over most of the kids her age and was very petite at around 136. Her hair hangs just over shoulder length, cut in a bob style and a dark cherry color with eyes as dark as the night sky. Her skin dark like a coffee and cream hue and for her height her ears were slightly smaller than one might expect. Her nose resembled that of a mouse, like a cute button with a bit of a tip that curved up at the end. Her looks would put even Aphrodite herself to shame.  She never could stay cooped up inside and she loves people and to be noticed where ever she goes, her slender stature and loud voice makes sure of that. In most aspects, she seemed much like her father Frank. They are an Italian family who immigrated to the states 40 years ago. She always stood proud of her Italian heritage, but noticed how often people judged her on the fact she could be such a loud, sometimes obnoxious girl. She never wanted to fit in, always felt the need to be different. She loves music, generally classical and blues, which seems weird for someone in her social standings and loud manner. One of her favorite past times would be to head down to the local arcade/comic shop near the pier after school, another strange habit that she knew many of her friends would look down upon. Afraid they might find out, she would wear a blonde wig and glasses as a disguise that seemed to work quite well for her. She never slacked on her homework or duties at home, she always tried to be school and family oriented. She knew the responsibilities she had to her family and herself and wouldn’t let anything stand in her way. Now being part of a large Italian family, she of course acquired quite the appetite. Her brother swears she once ate 3 plates more than him at a Thanksgiving dinner at his aunts 2 years ago, but no one believes him due to her petite size. She grew up with a family of men, aside from her mother and 2 aunts. She was the 2^nd youngest of 5 children which meant she was raised with 4 brothers. This didn’t prove difficult for her as she learned to hold her own against them and after a while they were the ones who shown trouble keeping up with her. When she was 11, her brothers dared her to climb the old bridge on 32^nd and Fourth Avenue, the place where Old John the Bum met a horrible fate with a bus 5 years before this. Not wanting to look weak or get made fun of, she went for it and almost half way up the side of the bridge wall, slipped and she caught the side of her forearm on a protruding bolt. This left a nice scar stretching about 6 inches.

Fire... Fun, right? Oh, well I think it is :) Although one of my friends may disagree with with you, but he has a good reason. At least when it involves fire AND me. I used to be a very.... odd child. I liked to play with fire, but not to the extent I would light someone's house on fire. One time when I was 14, while my best friend was over, we had been playing with lighter fluid, rubbing alcohol and a zippo lighter. We were sitting on the floor playing with the fluid and lighting our hands on fire then blowing it out quickly or lighting our pant legs or shoes on fire then blowing it out. Well, while we were doing it, I thought it would be funny to light his pants on fire at the crotch, so I poured some on the ground and lit it then quickly sprayed it towards his crotch and set it on fire. He freaked out and we put it out, but the look on his face was priceless, we both laughed our a**es off... But I had also figured out that rubbing alcohol was flammable that same day and so, to scare him, I had put some in my mouth and was acting like I was going to spit fire at him and when he saw my face and freaked out, I lost control and spit it all over him, singing his hair, eye brows and eye lashes and almost blinded him..... Yea, fires fun, right?

Time... Sometimes we think we have enough before we have to do something or finish something. Then unexpected circumstances arise such as car trouble, friends in need, family in need... all three of those happened to me this weekend. After pulling an all nighter at a friends playing Monopoly and watching movies, I leave to go home and sleep and get a call from a friend who was having car trouble. His fuel pump goes out and he needs help with it. I of course say yes, because I'm such a great effing friend and what was supposed to be a few hours to complete turned into 13 grueling hours of hell... having been awake since 8:30 friday morning until 2:00 am sunday morning, I was ready to fall over and sleep where ever I was at the time. We had been under two different Chevy Blazers the whole time working on the fuel pump, covered from head to toe in dirt, grease, and gas, we were both ready to get out of the cold and go to sleep finally. Me most of all. After hooking up the other fuel pump, I had him turn the key to test it and..... NOTHING!! After backtracking the set up for the fuel pump, I found out it was only a loose wire to his fuel pump relay. I pulled out the relay, re inserted the wire then plugged the relay back in and BLAMO, it was working. As far as I knew, the tow truck driver had already checked it the night before, but I was totally wrong. Never again will I take someone else's word for it and leave it alone. I will always check the fuse or relay myself, just in case it is only going to be that one issue... not a 13 hour issue, just a quick 5 minute ordeal.

Upgrade on looks

Upgrading the looks of my bike. I have an 07 Shadow Aero. I want to paint it something different, I think I'll go with gloss black and matte black 2-tone. All I have to paint is the tank, front and rear fenders. The front fender busted when I was ran off the road, but I found new ones. I have some ideas for LED lighting, my last bike was a street bike and I went green and black paint with green LEDs on the tail sides and front with green strobes in the headlights. I think this time I'm going with purple LEDs all around. I think it will mesh with the black and chrome amazingly.I already did the green, so it's time for a change up on this one. I can get 16 feet on LED strips for $10 and cut them to size and solder the wires myself. Much cheaper then paying $30 for 2 feet of pre-wired lights. Maybe add in a stereo system. Right now I just listen to my phone with some head phones on, but the waterproof speakers would work great and I found them pretty cheap with a control box to plug my phone into. Thinking about raising the bars from 2 inches to 6 inches, possible just to a 5. My favorite thing is to ride. I love taking a sharp corner and banking it so hard my pegs hit the ground, fold in and drag through the whole turn. It gets the blood rushing. There's a ride in Tennessee thats 11 miles and has around 300 sharp turns. There have been quite a few accidents and deaths but it would be an amazing ride. I have a buddy that rides a 1200 that wants to take the ride with me.

Fear

Everyone has some fear or another. For some it's spiders, others it's clowns. Some might say they're afraid of heights, but it's not the height, it's the fall. That is something I have an issue with. A fear I have is of falling from a great distance. I don't let this fear hinder me however, I embrace the adrenaline that comes from the realization of the altitude I might be at. One of my favorite things to do is to go to Blue Springs river down in Mountain View, MO and climb the backside of the bluff along the water and, after catching my breath, jumping off of this beast and crashing into the cold water. The only problem (which makes it all the more fun) is that if you jump into the wrong section or don't jump far enough out from the wall, you'll hit the jagged rocks resting just below the water level. Because of this, it is now illegal to jump off the bluff and to do so is considered an act of self harm and endagerment and if caught by a park ranger, you will receive a hefty ticket. Does this stop anyone though? Some, but there are too many of us who enjoy the rush or adrenaline that comes with soaring through the air and falling to what could, if not cautious, be your untimely demise.

Some of my friends are afraid of spiders and clowns, even dolls. Being the amazing friend that I am, I use this fear to my advantage... and scare the crap out of them any chance I get. The only way to control a fear, is to face it head on.

By facing fear head on, you learn to take control over your fear. To not let it ruin your social interactions or limit your life experiences. Taking steps to control your fear can be simple. You can choose to start off small and gradually work your way towards having some control over how it effects you. You can start off big and dive straight into it if you want to. I remember the first time I ever faced my fear of heights. I was close to 7-8 years old and my mom had taken us to the river. There was a bluff about 25-30 feet above the water level, which isn't very high, but to a kid it's the effing Empire State building!! Me and my little sister had watched people jumping off of this rock wall for awhile and we both thought it would be a great idea to jump to, it looked like so much fun. So we both swim out to the back and start making our way up this thing. We get to the top and as soon as I look down HHVGB&^R$^#&OUYG*O&G!!!!!! I thought I was going to slip and fall to my death!! My little sister climbs down to a lower area and after a few seconds, jumps... I stand there, frozen against a small pine tree. My mom and everyone else is telling me to quit being a chicken, to jump, that it's no big deal. I still stand frozen against this tree... It was my only friend at this point. Finally, my sister climbs back up and shows me how to get to a lower spot and she jumps again. Now I don't have my small pine tree friend to hold onto and I'm about to crap my pants because there is maybe 7 inches of rock sticking out for me to stand on and it's straight down from there. I realized something at this point... there's no freaking way to get back up!! I'm stuck!! I'm going to die on this bluff!! After a few minutes, I go for it... I leap and crash into the water and emerge from the surface and I feel amazing!!

I feel amazing... The reaction my body had to the fall, the way it made me feel. It felt like the wave of fear from realizing how high I was and that I was so scared, but 10 times that feeling. I didn't understand why it felt so good since just moments before hand I was about to shit myself just standing there. As the years went by, I started doing things like that more and more. I was always a great swimmer as a kid thanks to my mom and spent most of my summers at the rivers around the area where there were all kinds of high places to jump from. My love for that feeling turned into an addiction... an addiction for adrenaline. I started finding more and more things that gave me that feeling. Climbing, bike stunts with neighborhood friends, skateboarding... I was always cautious not to hurt anyone else and to keep a level of control over it, but I could never get enough. When I got older and learned to drive, I found I could get the same feeling during that as well. I started hitting corners in the rain or on dirt roads and the snow. Later on, I figured out I could find the same reaction with girls and so I became hell bent of that because lets face it, as a teenage boy... that's waaaaay more fun ;) It got me into trouble quite often, but so did speeding and skateboarding, I just didn't have to deal with the law, only boyfriends and that was much easier to get out of than a ticket. Now that I'm a bit older, I have calmed down and found control over my fears and my need for adrenaline and think others can find that same control as well if they just try.