Thought we’d start the year with something a little different. Our friend and motorcycle photographer Errol Colandro wrote a raw and honest story that we think all riders could relate to.
Words and photography by Errol Colandro.
Riding down this beautiful stretch of road. Miles and miles of pure desert landscape. All I’m hearing is the wind, the engine, that beautiful Harley exhaust note.
Where the hell am I even going" As we all know, getting on these two wheels is our therapy, our escape, our healing. Healing…. the healing of what" I look back a few weeks at what made this “healing” ride happen.
Waking up, not knowing the surroundings, the walls are that typical Las Vegas hotel room, and I am covered in what seems to be vomit and I am alone.
Wait, that is exactly what that is. Looking around, luggage open, clothes strewn everywhere, pretty sure theres AT LEAST 12 beer cans next to me and what seems to be a bottle of sleeping pills, oh no, nope there’s two of them… and they are empty. But as seeing what I am covered in and what is all over the floor, my body rejected it all.
You already know where this is going, yep, you guessed correctly. I tried to kill myself.
Embarrassment, shame, guilt, those are all of the feelings that I have at that moment. Why, you ask" All because of a breakup, a breakup that didn’t have to happen, but it did and hey, when alcohol is involved, we think we are smarter, me, I wasnR...