The hard black rubber meets the soft brown dirt. It is still only dawn and much riding to be consumed. The loud roar awakens the crow and shews off. The smell of burning fuel sends a chill from head to toe. Almost pushing that taste of of bacon and eggs from breakfast right out of your mind. The tight grip around the handles ensuring you not to fall off. Toes touch the cold shiny met pegs and push down engaging the first round of enjoyment. The right handle is twisted back as the clutch slowly lets off. Taking off with freight and speed throwing up shredded dirt into the cold foggy air. Muscles get soar and metal gets hot throughout the season changing day, and you are both put to rest.