L.A. Nolan Official Author Page

Riding With The Herd

He’s a friend, he is. Sammy. More than that, he’s a brother, well secured within the ranks of an infamous motorcycle club, of which I am also a member. A member in good standing, I’ll say with a swarthy grin. We share the patch. I, on my leathers, and him, on his nylon, double stitched, CE armoured, kevlar reinforced and well ventilated riding jacket.

During the moment in question, the Goan…

A Rock In The Park

Tommy studied the old mans hands, they were weathered like cow hide. His nails were long and yellow. Black dirt was congealed under cracks. He stank too. His threadbare trousers and patched woollen overcoat was giving off an odour of sour milk. Clare tugged at Tommy’s sleeve. He ignored her, little sisters were such a pain. He looked up to the man’s eyes. They were framed by bushy grey eyebrows…

The thrill of expedition is undeniable. In a jeep with an experienced and well-armed guide setting out to spot a predator is an adventure seekers dream. But…would you do it unguided, unprotected...on a motorcycle?

My hands were aching. My thighs had gone numb. With a cool, steady breath, I forced myself to release the death grip I had on the handlebars and gas tank of my bike. Normally there would be music playing in my helmet. Not today, not right now. All I could hear was the whisper of a mid morning breeze rustling the leaves of the jungle canopy that had just swallowed us. Swallowed us! Wrong turn of a…

Five Peaks Of Panchachuli

Two odd angle shafts of dim yellow head light cut through the predawn ink we were shrouded in. They bobbed and bounced, illuminating wisps of iridescent mist creeping out of the Gori Valley. Milky white vapor was spilling over the thin strip of mountain pass we were travailing along, like disembodied fingers of some horrific specter clawing its way out of the canyon.  There was a protesting grunt…

Ten Things You Never Ask A Biker.

Every established group, click, sub-culture, organization or club has its own traditions and taboos. Granted, if you are not a member of said fraternity, you may not be privy to the dos and don’ts of that particular association. However, common sense must prevail. Certain social conventions should be obvious? No? Apparently not…

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The Himalayas, My Meeting With Mt. Everest

A snort of bemused laughter burst through the taxi. I am not overly proud of my laughing snort and try to avoid it. However, despite my best efforts, it does pop out from time to time. The driver’s eyes wrinkled with a smile as he continued watching me through the rear view mirror.

“What do you mean, ‘Do Everest’?” I asked him.

My princess bride and I exchanged glances. We were sitting in the…

July Is An Odd Ole Month – Part 1 – 1977

Not too long before I left Canada to make India my home, I had occasion to find myself sitting in my mother’s basement apartment at my sister’s home. I had lived here for a short while several years before and due that inhabitance the sight of lace doilies still makes me somewhat anxious. Mum had moved out of course and now used the apartment as a base of operations for visiting her kids.…