Spent years drifting through odd jobs like mechanic gigs, delivery runs, the occasional not so legal hustle, just trying to keep the engine running and the wheels spinning. Motorcycles were always more than just a ride, they were freedom, power, and peace all in one. One night at a dusty roadside bar on the edge of Blaine County, I crossed paths with a grizzled Lost MC member who saw the same fire in me that burned in their crew. A few drinks, a couple stories, and weeks of riding with them as a hangaround and then as prospect and I was in. Now, the road’s my home, and the Lost are my family.
