All Hail, Karkharoth

My new bike has a moniker, and it is pure evil. It has been christened Karkharoth, “the Red Maw”, after the mad Wolf of Angband, Sleepless Guardian of the gates of Angband, slayer of Huan the Wolfhound, and Beren Erchamion, Lord of Dorthonian. Karkharoth was born of the race of Draugluin, Werewolf of Tol-in-Gaurhoth. He was raised by Melkor, Lord of Darkness, feasting solely on the living flesh of Man and Elf. When Karkharoth swallowed the Silmaril (along with Beren’s hand), it burned in his stomach like a Divine Habanero. He was driven mad with the pain and laid waste to Beleriand, slaughtering everything in his path. His name alone struck Fear in the stoutest of warriors.

A fitting name for a bike mad enough to Fearlessly dart in front of speeding cars and chase backhoes like a ravenous beast. A fitting name also, because I am obsessed with wolves, and when I ride, I ride like a rabid wolf, growling and snarling, pushing myself past the brink of exhaustion. I've always believed that if I were a wolf, I would be an animal.