Click here for full story of: Baja Blow Out!

The last time we stopped at their
crumbled shack, they were gone.
In fact, one could barely see where the
shack had been. The harsh unforgiving
land had forgotten them.

Click here for full story of: Rubicon Rogues

To our trails we come back, though it's not for a lack,
of other things to do;
The adrenaline will pour, as your muscles get sore,
and your mind is born again new;

A days hard ride with friends at your side,
makes one feel happy, tired, and free;
When I get back, and finally hit the sack,
I'm always happy I am me;

Click here for full story of: False Witness

Before tribal forefathers recorded
history the only stories where those
told from generation to generation,
this is one of my favorites...

Click here for full story of: The Horse Trader

How must he feel, as his rider lies still,
stalking, silently they stay
Wild horse pursued, freedom will soon elude,
broken spirit by end of day.







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