Motorcycle Stories Novels & Stories

James breathed hard. Brian nodded and started cranking the lever to pull the hook back in. Joe and James were pulled back away from the water and then all eyes turned to the taunt chain that was coming in extremely slow. Finally a single spoke wheel made its appearance. After what felt like ages a seventies motor cycle was dragged out of the water. Brian yanked on the lever until the motorcycle was standing on one wheel with water dripping off of it. “That’s amazing.” He commented as he abandoned the ratchet to take a closer look.

he asked and the dirt biker did her best. "Motocross," she finally said after drinking a glass of water. Slowly, she was starting to understand what happened. Everything happened too quickly on the track but she remembered clearly that she had gotten into an accident because of someone else. She couldn't remember their name now but she knew that it was a rookie.

Please. If heartbreak could kill me, it would’ve done it years ago. Kael Draven might’ve rejected me, but he didn’t get to erase me. Not when I was finally starting to feel real. But none of that mattered the next morning — not when they came back. I was halfway through repairing the damn engine I’d set on fire when the rumble of motorcycles cut through the air. Low, deep. Not the usual local drunks or weekend riders. These were pack bikes. Military style. Matte black.

"So beautiful!" "Ms. Thompson... You couldn't see her face with the helmet on," Tom said, somewhat exasperated. "I was talking about the motorcycle! It's a Yamaha Sr400 classic edition. You should know your bikes!" Diana's eyes gleamed. Tom:... He realized he was not well-informed in this area. In the passenger seat, Mitbahl propped up his chin, gazing at the disappearing figure of the motorcycle. A faint hint of coldness flickered in his eyes.

"I just saw a huge black wolf on the path. That's all." "Were you alone?" "No, with Kessler the Idiot, but he left me stranded." "He did that? What a jerk." "Yeah, he is. Where's your car? I just want to get home." "I have a motorcycle," he says, pointing to a Ninja-style motorcycle a few meters away. "Wow, it's nice." "Don't mind riding on a motorcycle, do you?" "Not at all."

Max didn't say anything else and complied with Ken, following him to the 9th dorm and parking his motorbike in the resident's parking lot next to Ken's car. "Your motorbike is so beautiful. I've always wanted to ride a motorbike like this," said Ken after getting out of his car. He stroked Max's motorbike beside his car, a Ducati. "You've never ridden a motorcycle?" Max asked. "No. My mother forbade any kind of motorcycle for me to ride." "Huh? Why? I prefer to ride a motorbike than a car. It's faster and more practical." "My father was paralyzed after his motorbike collided with a truck."

Following his lead, he stopped in front of a monster. “I’m not riding that thing,” I looked at the metal in horror. “Oh, come on, Princess. She’s in good condition,” he patted the seat of the motorcycle in the parking lot. The times I rode a motorbike in my life can’t be more than the fingers in my hands. I hate riding them, frightened of even thinking about getting on this thing. My friend Shawn and I got involved in an accident in twelfth grade when he stole his big brother’s motorcycle so we could go to the carnival. His arrogance resulted with the two of us having cast on our arms for a month. Since then, I dreaded the idea of riding one.

Jake removed the sheet covering it and carefully pushed it out. This motorcycle fulfilled an old dream of his. As a teenager, he went to a motocross event with his friends and became fascinated by these metal monsters. He saved up his courage and his money for a long time, until finally, at the legal age, he bought this beauty. It was a Ducati cross-country motorcycle. Powerful and not meant to be ridden on the streets for pleasure, Jake would sometimes put on his helmet and head out of town, just to ride on sandy and dangerous tracks. There were plenty of them around the city, as the locals used to organise fun tours for tourists who wanted to ride ATVs.

I don't think I ever realized how badly I need positive affirmations. As we go around the room, I hear other people talking about their pain and it's hard not to become involved in their stories. "That's how I got this," one of the new guys says, pointing to a cast on his arm. He's hidden behind shoulder-length dark hair, and I wonder what his face looks like. "I thought it would be funny to hop on the back of my motorcycle after drinking a whole fifth of Jack. Turns out it wasn't funny." The fact he rides a motorcycle interests me. There aren't many people I've come to know outside of Heaven Hill who even know about the life. When we break for lunch, I get in line behind him, tapping him on

On a sharp curve, the vehicle lost control and plunged off the cliff. I heard every word, but none of it felt real. Dominic was careful. He feared that mountain road more than anyone. How could he overload the motorcycle in the rain? How could Marcus and his three friends all be on it at the same time? I fell to the ground beside Dominic and cried until my throat burned. He would never again come home covered in dust and tell me he had earned enough for dinner. He would never again pat the children’s heads and promise them better days.