The feelings of Biker Brotherhood can be best explained by the feeling generated in being part of a club run. The feeling of being part of a brotherhood that canít be explained but must be experienced, but will only be experienced by a select few.

Where one becomes an interegal part of the group, but is still isolated by virtue of being alone on your bike,where only your own thoughts intrude over the roar of the pipes and the rumble of tyres on the road.

No matter how fucked up your life is , it seems to lose importance once you are out there with your brothers, riding in formation, relying on each other as you move down the highway.

The stops for fuel, the banter about whose bike is quicker, faster or even who used less fuel since the last stop. The pit stops at the pub for lunch in some red neck town where the locals stop and stare, and the police, who always just happen to cruise by, all seem unimportant and are just part of the fun of the ride.

Breakdowns and the repairs done on the side of the road, never seem to be a hassle, as every one pitches in and gets the bike up and running again

The stop at night at some campground ,pub or motel signals the start of a long night of fun which never seems to end until someone yells out that its time to hit the road and you realise itís morning and thereís another 800kmís to ride that day.

This is true brotherhood, the brotherhood of the Bike



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