So you joined an MC and it’s not what you thought it was. From the outside, it looks like the grass is super green, tight brotherhood, members riding, and the club is known and respected in the community. Prospecting was good, you learned what you needed to learn, you made your required runs and now you’re a full patch member. But now you’re sitting in church and you hear all the shit that’s going on. Fighting between brothers, brothers talking about other brothers behind their backs, brothers not following the bylaws, not riding, not going to visit other chapters. So you’re like what the fuck did I get myself into! Now here’s where you find yourself sitting at the crossroads. Do you turn left and keep the perpetration of fuckery going or do you turn right and work to make things better/right? No club is perfect, because men will have there own opinion about everything that they are not in control of. This way, that way. But when you’re in an MC, the guidelines are already laid out for you. It’s called the bylaws, and all you have to do is follow them. The founder(s) of your club had a vision, a vision that they wanted a tight brotherhood of men. Either it was riding their scoots together, having each other’s backs or uplifting his fellow man in a helping hand situation. If you’re in an MC and you don’t at least read the bylaws once a week, then you are not living them. Live your bylaws, live the biker’s codes and be the best biker/brother you can be. Whether you’re in a 99% club, an OMC or a 1%er club, being the best biker you can be and to your fellow club brothers should be your number one priority. If I have it my brother has it. Have a blessed Monday. Solo

Important message: Does anyone know the true meaning behind the term “Flying 66”? You’re in the #2 Lane (right lane), speedometer says 80 in a 75, vehicles passing you so you know you’re good. Riding, minding your own damn business, when all of a sudden a LEO shows up in your rear view. You don’t panic, you don’t have a care in the world because you know you weren’t violating any laws. The officer trails you for 5 or 6 miles, changing lanes every time you change lanes. Turn signals are used, hell you even throw up the hand and arm signals as an added bonus. Then BOOM! The fucking bubblegum machine goes off and light up your rear view mirrors. You signal to get over, pull off to the side of the road into a safe area, just a bit further than where Johnny-Law lights you up. Safety first. You stop, unstrap your lid, about that time JL is standing on your right side where your Roscoe is clearly visible on your hip.

JL: how you doing?

In my head, I’ve seen better days besides you fucking this one up.

JL: the reason I pulled you is because you came back with no drivers license on file. Me: if you don’t get the fuck out of here.

JL: it’s just a routine check sir, l run the tags of all of the vehicles that pass me. (Bull Shit)

JL: just show me your license and you should be good.

I proceed to comply and hand him my valid DL’s. JL: ok sir you’re good. Oh, do you mind if i ask you a few questions? Me: NO!

JL; OK Sir, have a nice day.

WTF! 5 or 6 miles of you running my tags, researching my MC, and lane switching with me, just to profile me and try to trap me into giving you probable cause. 🤦🏽‍♂️🤦🏽‍♂️🤦🏽‍♂️ People, know your rights, don’t say shit. If they are going to cite you, they are going to cite you and ain’t shit you can say that will get you out of it. If they are profiling, or in general, they will try to trap your ass into talking. Don’t say shit! Remember, our culture is not looked upon with friendly thoughts. OMC, 1%, or even flying a traditional 3 piece cut will get your ass categorized. Knowledge is power. Never be afraid to share it. Solo

If you’re not doing it for you, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.

A SoloMoment

Always keep your eyes and your ears, open. Solo

I would like to share this experience with you from 2016 ride heading back to Seattle. So here I am approaching the base of the NOCAL mountains; just beautiful. Out of nowhere comes another hog pounder just gettin it! His bike is setup old school style, spoke wheels, apes, black and white, nothing fancy at all. I can tell it’s a workhorse of a machine like my “ambition.” I glance over and through his modular, I can see he’s an older white gentleman with a gray beard, hard-faced. He stares at me with his beady eyes like “fuck you!” I knob back and throw down the✌🏾 and he lights into it like a fighter jet. All respect was given and we took off through the mountains like Butch and Sundance. Now, this was the moment of bikerism. Yes, it’s a word because it came out of my mouth! LOL. We’re pounding through the curves, not even looking at each other, just looking at the road ahead and hearing each other shift and throttle up and down. Then comes the rain. He abruptly pulls over and suits up. I throw up my arm (you ok) and glance in my mirror and he waves me on, so he’s good. So I keep pounding and I come upon another rider. Low and behold, it’s Rico from Seattle Magic Wheels! We both smile and laugh and pound to the next gas station. It’s always good to see a familiar face/biker on the road in the middle of nowhere. We chop it up “where you coming from and where you’re going,” typical biker talk. We take off and abruptly he pulls off and waves me on, so he’s good, I throw up the 2’s, ride safe my brother.

Now here’s where the story picks back up. So in my mirrors, I see a set of Road King headlights approaching. It’s not Rico cause he’s on a starship. It’s beady eyes, and he’s suited for the rain. We get back in it. I just filled up so I know I’m good for 180 miles so we twist and burn. I can tell by this guy’s style of riding that he doesn’t give a fuck about laws so you know I’m thinking, hmmm. Did I mention he’s running “66,” but I’m curious? By now I know that King must be thirsty and boom he signals the next stop up ahead. I know where I’m at so I head over to a familiar gas stop but it’s closed we like WTF! Lol. He pops up his lid and with a hard stone face says, “don’t think I’m going to make it.” I say, “hey I got a can in my bag, let’s go.” He thumbs up and by luck, another gas station was nearby. We pull up to two different pumps and top off. I pull over to use the head and he pulls up behind me. Not a tall fella, but stocky like a fuck’n pit bull. He comes and we introduce ourselves. By now I know who he’s with just by his demeanor, the color of his bike and the jewelry he’s wearing. I ask, what outfit you’re with, he looks at me dead in my eyes and says….. “(A Big 4) They call me Preacher, good to meet you.” Protocol being established, we chop it up, talk about the ride and laugh our asses off about the rain, snow, and sleet. We both headed in the same direction so we push, now mind you it’s night now, dark out and raining. We shared about 250 miles together and by the last stop, before he peels off, we were riding abreast of each other, which is only reserved for brothers or a gained respect for another rider’s skills and abilities. We exchange info and said “safe travels” to each other. Now you say that’s pretty cool Solo. Yeah, it was a memorable moment because I’ve read, seen and heard stories about his outfit and they don’t fuck with anybody outside their La Familia.

The moral of this shared moment is, when you’re on the highway you will run across all kinds of people, riders and bikers. There’s such a thing as a professional biker where ethic, respect, and protocol is shared. Strive to be a professional biker because the first impression is everything. Have a great Monday and ride safely. Solo

One of the hardest parts about living this biker lifestyle is you commit and devote all of your time, all of your resources, and dedication to it. You put the highway first, you put that next mile first, the chase first, your club first, a Brother first, and everything mortal and materialistic second. Some know it, but even fewer truly experience it. I’ve written about dedication and about sacrifice. I’ve seen men totally devolve themselves into this lifestyle all to lose their money, their time, their family, and even their lives because of it. In the past 72 hours I’ve read about men losing their lives, losing the mobility of their bodies, and families that will never be the same again. Every day tell your significant other, your family members, your mother, your father, your uncle, your cousin, your club brothers and club sisters, a true friend that you love them because tomorrow may be too late.

In life we chose our destination. We chose our own journey. Our journey may be pointless, aimless, or misunderstood. Staying dedicated to our choices and the outcome of our decisions will forever define us. We are on this planet for such a short time if compared to that of a bristlecone pine. Energy and time are limited resources that can be turned off in the blink of an eye. Never let your dedication go unappreciated. Never let someone or something rob you of your precious resources because of your dedication. You can never get them back, which will cause your path to darken. It’s your dedication that will light your path. KSolo

Introducing the KSolo’s Go-Solo-Go stickers. As l travel across America l would like to leave a token of my appreciation to different establishments, eateries, a few state signs, and mile markers. I’m looking forward to touching all 50 states again this year. Remember it’s never about the destination, it’s about the journey. Enjoy the journey! KSolo

Sometimes in life, we allow things to happen to us that brings us the most pain, the most stress and the most hurt. All because we think, it’s what we really want. A SoloMoment