A biker he was born, a biker he will stay the freedom he felt on the open highway. The beautiful sky, and the engine roar, the colors, the do-rags and the pride he wore. Onwards he travels with his head held high, the road never ends, his soul will fly. Into the blue wide open spaces, he hates to see tears on all of our faces. His throttle was wide open for the life he held, he was never the “bad boy” that some would fear. His journey goes on, it doesn’t end yet He’s on his way to heaven, following a map he hasn’t set. Like the memory of his friendship, his love and his bikes roaring start, Cary left tread marks all over our heart. By Scarlet Bird