It’s the kind of news that hits you right in the gut, the sort that makes you pause and hug your loved ones a little tighter. On a crisp November evening in Phoenix, two guys who lived for the thrill of the open road—36-year-old Scott Kikes and 53-year-old Job Martinez—lost their lives in what authorities are calling a tragic incident near Seventh Avenue and Interstate 17. The community here is reeling, with friends and family piecing together memories of these two vibrant souls while the investigation unfolds. It’s a stark reminder that life can shift in an instant, leaving behind echoes of laughter and brotherhood that we’ll all carry forward.
The call came in just before 11 p.m. on November 28, pulling first responders into the chaos of what started as a routine night. Emergency lights flashed across the intersection as crews worked frantically to help, but despite every ounce of effort from the medical teams, Scott and Job were pronounced dead at the hospital. Details are still trickling out—investigators from the Phoenix Police Department are combing through the scene, looking at everything from traffic patterns to witness accounts—but one thing’s clear: this wasn’t just an accident; it was a heartbreaking turn that shattered two families and rippled through the tight-knit motorcycle crowd.
Scott Kikes was the guy everyone wanted to grab a beer with, you know? At 36, he had this infectious energy that lit up any gathering, always quick with a joke or a helping hand. Folks who knew him paint a picture of a loyal friend, someone who’d drop everything to be there for you. His true love, though, was tearing down the highway on his motorcycle. It wasn’t about speed for Scott; it was the wind in his face, the sense of freedom that made him feel alive. He’d talk your ear off about his rides through the desert, the way the sunsets painted the sky, and how those moments bonded him with buddies like Job. Now, his family clings to the little things—the way he’d grin over a backyard barbecue or surprise his kids with impromptu adventures—treasuring every second they got with him.
Job Martinez, at 53, brought a different kind of steadiness to the group, the wise one who’d seen a few more miles but never lost his spark. Life hadn’t always been easy for him, but he faced it head-on with a quiet resilience that inspired everyone around. Like Scott, motorcycles were his escape, his way to connect with the world on his terms. He’d ride with this deliberate focus, soaking in the camaraderie of the road, sharing stories at pit stops that left you feeling a little wiser. Friends remember his deep laugh, his dedication to his work and family, and how he’d mentor younger riders without ever making a big deal of it. Losing him feels like losing a pillar, and his loved ones are left sifting through photos and recollections, trying to make sense of the void.
The outpouring from the Phoenix community has been nothing short of amazing in the face of this sorrow. Social media is flooded with tributes—posts about group rides they’ll never forget, photos of Scott and Job grinning helmet-to-helmet, and heartfelt messages from folks who barely knew them but feel the loss anyway. Local motorcycle clubs have rallied, organizing rides in their honor and setting up funds to help the families with funeral costs. It’s that Arizona spirit shining through, where strangers become family in tough times, offering prayers, meals, and shoulders to lean on. One friend put it simply: “These guys were the heart of our rides; we’ll keep rolling for them.”
As the probe deepens, questions linger about what exactly went down that night. Was it a collision, a mechanical issue, or something else on that busy stretch of interstate? Phoenix PD hasn’t released much yet, respecting the ongoing work and the families’ privacy, but they’re urging anyone with dashcam footage or tips to come forward. In the meantime, the focus stays on healing—counseling sessions for the riding community, memorial gatherings under the stars where stories flow like the evening breeze. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s bringing people closer in ways you wouldn’t expect.
What stands out most in all this is the legacy these two left behind, simple yet profound. Scott’s easy kindness and Job’s steady wisdom weren’t flashy, but they touched lives in quiet, lasting ways. Their passion for the road wasn’t just a hobby; it was a thread weaving through friendships, family bonds, and even strangers who crossed their path. As Phoenix moves forward, the grief will ease into gratitude for the time we had, the rides shared, and the reminder to live fully. Scott and Job might be gone, but their spirit revs on in every engine that hums through the desert night.
In the end, it’s the memories that offer a bit of solace amid the pain—the shared laughs, the open roads, the unbreakable connections. For the families navigating this unimaginable loss, and for a community that’s come together like never before, those recollections are the light guiding them through. Rest easy, Scott and Job; your rides aren’t over, they’re just taking a new turn.
