Thursday, November 22, 2012

Bivouac + See See Motorcycle Coffee + Stumptown + Deus + Brixton

Every turn was out to swallow us alive that morning as the dawn expired the dank dew burnt off with the smoke and exhaust and every golden valley stirred. The foggy ever-lifting eyes of the world awoke with a roaring yawn of one hundred engines racing over the lines cut like scars along the skin of the earth. We traced each curve and straight away with precision, our hot tires like cutting utensils fit for a surgeon spread the asphalt like butter.