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Been a good 9 or so years since I sold my RF600RR, but as of last week, I'm back in the saddle again!
This photo was from this past weekend. Gandparents took the rug-rats, so me and Mrs.Six rode to the movies (prometheus - it was ok). She's on a 1985 Rebel 250, bobbed with a solo seat, swing-arm mounted rear-fender, drag bars, and a ratty, satin-black, rattle-canned tank.
Updated 07-09-2012 at 10:48 AM by WhiskeySix
It's been three days since the outbreak.
Yesterday was horrible. Our group of 5 got over-run by walkers, and I was the lone survivor. This morning I awoke in a ditch on the side of the road between Zelenogorsk and Drozhino; stranded, without ammo, and dying of thirst.
Thirsty, with three empty canteens, my first goal was water. I used the 'supplies map' to learn that there was a well in Bor... so that's where I would go. I quietly walked south, into the forest.
This 11 minute film captures how I choose to remember 9/11. Not the religious fanatics, or the other religious fanatics, the unjust wars, or the 'merika fukyeah' t-shirts and magnetic stickers. I choose to remember the people that helped other people; not because they shared the same religion, race, or political-leanings, but simply because they were people that needed helping.