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 . . .
rumble of a thousand motorcycles roared to life. The ground shook and the air trembled. I felt like I was over the epicenter of an earthquake and in the middle of a tornado at once. It was exhilarating! I gunned my Pacheco and took off. For nearly three minutes, I skillfully wove through the crowd of racers as they jostled for positions. By the time we came to the first curve, I felt that I had enough lead on the Wolf Pack. I pulled to the side of the road to wait for them to catch up feigning engine trouble. And there, I waited...and waited...and waited. I began to worry when no more bikers were riding by. Had the Wolf Pack beat me out of the starting gate? No, that was impossible. Those old Harleys could never have beaten my Pacheco. I wondered if perhaps they had abandoned the race.
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