When Jack complained to Carter that he was bored, and she jokingly replied he get a hobby—like motorcycles—neither believed he'd do it. But when he arrived at his house that evening, and felt the purr of the truck's engine through the seat, he wondered what it would be like to feel it in his bones. Jack figured he was old enough for a mid-life crisis, and the next day he started looking.

A week later, leaning into the turns, feeling the rumble down to the very marrow, the adrenalin burning in his veins, he didn't regret a cent.