As seen in Ache Magazine issue 8 and Showclass magazine issue 34/35.

I first met Skye in 2008. She had run away from Big Bear, California and hitched a ride to Oregon with a couple dirt bags I called friends. Stories surfaced that she was as wild as honey dew and to keep my distance.  Before I got to experience these wild ways she disappeared just as fast as my Harley sucked up gas that Summer. A year and a half later I noticed a woman down the street from my house with a little too much pep in her step and a fur hat with long blonde locks swimming out.  Low and behold she had moved to Oregon and was my neighbor.  As I got to know Skye, I learned what built her foundation.  Above Skye's bed was a proud magazine tear of her dad and a Harley build he had done. It was haphazardly pinned on the wall and contaminated with evidence that it had been around a while.  True to the tales I had been told she was down for anything.  Chopper rides in the middle of winter through grave yards.  Tresspassing onto Catholic school land to easy ride gravel pits on a BSA chopper.  A true free spirit with nothing to lose but age.