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MidReal Story
Chicken Run: Freeway Showdown
Anonymous
May 9
Scenario:bikers racing down the freeway for a prize chicken
Create my version of this story
The rules were simple: no weapons allowed, just raw biker skills as we raced down the freeway on the fastest path to Vegas.
As the countdown began, we all revved our engines, deafening roars filling the air as we waited for the signal to start the race.
The first time I heard about the chicken race, I thought it was a joke.
I shot a sideways glance at my gang and saw the same look of anticipation reflected in their eyes, a mix of excitement and determination that told me they were ready to win this race at any cost.
I mean, who in their right mind would race down the freeway for a prize chicken?
But then I realized that it was no joke.
Three … Two … One …
With a final deafening roar, we blasted off from the starting line as fast as our bikes would take us, darkness whirring past us as we rode full throttle toward Vegas on the deserted freeway.
It was a real thing, and I knew that I had to be a part of it.
The wind whipped against us as we picked up speed, pushing our bikes to their limits as we raced to outpace each other before we’d even reached the finish line.
I had to win that chicken.
The only problem was that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to win it.
The freeway stretched out before us like an endless ribbon of concrete leading straight to Las Vegas, ready and waiting for one of us to conquer it and claim the ultimate prize: victory in the chicken race.
It was said that there were numerous ways to be taken out of the race: rival gangs setting traps along the route to slow or kill you off, or a helicopter descending from the sky to gun you down in a high-speed chase on the freeway.
There were going to be other bikers racing for the same prize, and they were going to do whatever it took to get their hands on that chicken.
But none of those stories would ever slow us down; if anything they just made us that much more determined to win as we raced toward our ultimate destination with a singular focus and goal in mind: the finish line of the chicken race in Las Vegas.
But I wasn’t worried.
I was focused on winning this race and nothing else as I raced down the freeway with my gang close on my tail.
I had my gang with me, and we were going to do whatever it took to win that chicken.
We were going to be the ones riding off into the sunset with our prize in hand, and we weren’t going to let anyone stand in our way.
A rush of adrenaline surged through me as we picked up speed and headed toward Las Vegas on a direct path to success in the chicken race.
It was going to be one hell of a ride, but we were ready for it.
We were born ready for it.
The first leg of this race was all about pure speed and acceleration, and everybody was jockeying for position so they could claim that prize at the end of this race.
It was the most anticipated event of the year: the chicken race.
We were a few miles down the road before the first eight or so bikes passed me.
The race was organized by a grizzled old trucker who went by the name of Wild Bill, and he was the only one who knew the exact details of the race.
All we knew was that it was a high-speed dash down the I-15 freeway at night, from a secret starting point to the glittering lights of Las Vegas.
My bike was fast, but not as fast as some of these newer bikes that people were riding all around me.
The Indian Chief is an old bike and even though mine was built for speed, it was just not as fast as some of these bikes that are around today.
Oh, and there was one other thing: the prize was an actual live chicken.
I knew that going in and had planned for that by having a game plan in place for when this happened.
But not just any chicken.
This chicken had been genetically modified to be the fastest and most aggressive chicken on the planet, and it was highly coveted by bikers everywhere.
While all those bikes were passing me like I was standing still, they were riding at redline, and I knew that they would not be able to keep that pace up for much longer as they kept dropping out of this race one by one after blowing their motors up from running them too hard for too long.
I finally found some room to accelerate and started to catch some of the bikes that had passed me earlier as we raced through the night on our way to Vegas at speeds in excess of one hundred miles an hour on the I-15 freeway, and even higher at times as we were racing along in a pack trying to get ahead of the others.
No one knew exactly how Wild Bill managed to get his hands on these chickens, and no one really cared.
All they cared about was winning the race and taking home the prize.
The bikes that I caught up to were still riding at redline and you could tell that they were not going to last much longer and it wasn’t long before they started falling off as their engines blew and other bikes passed them one by one as we continued to race further and further into the night as we all fought for that prize that waited for us at the finish line in Las Vegas, Nevada and Baker, California which was the halfway point, was still some distance away, but there were some people who said that there would be a surprise at Baker this year, but we would not know what that was until we got there.
I was racing down the freeway, my heart pounding in my chest as I wove in and out of traffic trying to keep ahead of the pack that was chasing us as we flew down the Southbound lanes of I-15 toward our destination and the live chicken that awaited us at the end of this race for the first person across the finish line.
The race attracted bikers from all over the country, and it was said that only the best of the best were able to compete.
I almost got taken out a couple of times when a few bikes cut me off as they were trying to get past a few other bikes, but I was able to keep my bike under control as my back tire skidded out from underneath me and I righted myself before I crashed or hit another bike that was riding along with us on this race.
As I made my way through the crowd of bikers, I could feel their eyes on me, sizing me up and trying to determine if I had what it took to compete in the race.
I must have missed hitting two or three other bikes by less than a foot, but I never even blinked as I raced neck and neck with Lisa and Tommy next to me as we continued our journey toward Las Vegas.
I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know that my gang was right behind me, ready to have my back no matter what happened.
I gave them a nod of appreciation before making my way to the starting line, where I found Wild Bill waiting for me.
“Are you ready?”
he asked, his voice gruff and gravelly.
My heart was pounding in my chest and my adrenaline was pumping as I wove in and out of traffic trying to avoid being taken out by other bikes that were trying to catch me and take that prize for themselves.
We were still about fifteen miles from Baker when we finally caught up to the last of the bikes that had passed me earlier and were able to pass them and start to put some distance between us and the rest of the pack that was following us.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to contain my excitement.
My heart was pounding in my chest and my adrenaline was pumping through me as we rode neck and neck toward Baker.
This was it.
This was what I had been waiting for.
There is nothing like a high-speed chase on the freeway to get your blood pumping and your adrenaline going, and the chicken race was definitely one of those things that you could do to get your heart racing and your adrenaline going.
Wild Bill raised his hand and signaled for us to begin, and I wasted no time in kicking my engine into gear and speeding off into the night.
This was the most fun that you could have with your clothes on and I would not give up this life for anything in the world.
The other bikers followed close behind, their engines roaring as they tried to catch up with me.
The wind was whipping by me so fast that if I stuck out my arm, it felt like someone was trying to rip it off from my body.
But I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I could not have asked for a better night for this race as there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could see the stars twinkling brightly in the night sky above you, but that was also part of the reason why it was so cold out there.
You could see your breath because of how cold it was tonight, but that didn’t matter because we were all wearing our leather jackets over our vests tonight.
I was determined to win that chicken no matter what, and I was going to do whatever it took to come out on top.
The rules of the race were simple: no weapons allowed and no team riding.
The race was on and we were all set to go as we sped toward our destination and the live chicken that was waiting for us there.
It was every man for himself, and the first biker to cross the finish line would be declared the winner.
We were almost ready to start this race when the rest of the bikes caught up to us and the rest of the pack was following us close behind.
I had no doubt that my gang would do everything they could to help me win, but I knew that I was going to have to rely on my own skills and abilities if I wanted to come out on top.
I looked back and saw a wall of bikes following us down the freeway and knew that it would only be a matter of time before they caught up to us and passed us so I decided to take off and get out in front and get ahead of them.
I gave my bike some gas and took off like a bullet out of a gun as I started to leave them behind and put some distance between me and the rest of the pack that was following close behind.
I gunned my engine and pushed my bike to its limits as I raced down the freeway, the wind whipping through my hair and the smell of gasoline filling my nostrils.
I could hear the other bikers behind me, their engines roaring as they tried to keep up with me.
I raced ahead of them, my bike’s engine roaring loudly as I raced away from them while they rode along with me trying to keep up and pass me so they could take that prize, but I would not let them take it from me no matter what they did or how hard they tried because I was not going to let them take it from me.
But I was too fast for them.
The chicken was mine, all mine, and I would do whatever it took to make sure that it stayed mine when we finally got to Las Vegas and found that live bird waiting for us there at the finish line.
I raced ahead of the rest of the pack, my adrenaline pumping through me as I raced toward my destination.
I was in a league of my own, and there was nothing they could do to stop me from winning that chicken.
My heart was pounding in my chest and my blood was pumping through my veins as I rode through the night air on my way toward Las Vegas and the prize that waited for me there.
This was the most fun you could have with your clothes on, and I loved every minute of it.
The chicken race was on, and I was going after that prize with everything that I had in me.
When I got ready to leave tonight, I had Lisa check my bike one last time before we left just to make sure that it was going to be running at its peak performance for tonight’s race because she is a tech genius when it comes to working on bikes or cars.
I gave her a wink and turned back to my bike just in time to see Tommy walking up behind me with two duffel bags in his hands and I knew that one of them was full of money while the other was full of weapons that we would need for self-protection while we were out on the road.
Lisa handed me my helmet and said with a smile on her face, “Here you go, Jake.I have made sure we will be the fastest bikes on the road tonight and that we will leave everyone else in our dust.” She was so confident that it was contagious and it made me even more excited than I was before because I knew that we were going to be unbeatable with her on our team.
She was a skilled mechanic who knew her way around a wrench and a motorcycle and she had made sure that our bikes were running at their optimum performance.
She had taken some big chances with our bikes while she was working on them and had done some modifications that could be dangerous while we were out on the road.
They would also make sure that we were faster than anyone else who was riding alongside of us tonight.
Tommy said with a smile on his face, “I think that what Lisa has done will make us unbeatable tonight and that we will be able to do whatever we need to do in order to win this race.” He looked at me for a second before he turned back toward our bikes and began checking them out in order to make sure they would keep us safe during this long ride.
He is always thinking about safety first and making sure that we are doing whatever we can in order to keep ourselves safe while we are out on the road together because he is just that kind of guy who is always looking out for everyone else and making sure that they are doing what they are supposed to be doing in order to stay safe and make it home alive after every ride.
I walked up behind Lisa and said, “I really like what you have done with my bike, Lisa.I feel like it’s running better than it ever has before.” I gave her a wink before I put my helmet down on my seat and began putting on my leather gloves while I waited for the rest of the pack to catch up to where we were parked so that we could all ride out together as one big group.
Lisa was a skilled mechanic and a biker babe who was a motorhead through and through.
She loved everything about motorcycles and riding on them, but more than anything else, she loved working on them and making them run faster than they ever had before because she loved riding fast and feeling that wind blowing through her hair while she raced along the highway.
