Yes, I know this is late. I started it on July 11th. But hey, I just found a math test from the 8th grade I never finished. I smell a GED in my future!
OK. So you all know we took a trip to AZ. Why, I don’t know. Crap, after two hundred miles, my wife decides her hinny hurts and we have to call her mommy to pick her up. Maybe I should have put the rear seat on? The fender didn’t look that hard. Then, after nineteen hours on the road I get to sleep on a plywood bed with things crawling on me. I think there are critters that live in that mountain air, I saw it in a movie once it must be true. The next morning I’m sitting outside enjoying a cup of rancid coffee and a non-filter, just sitting there, minding my own damn business, when these people in leather start shouting my name and start trying to hug me. Boy, I’ll tell ya’, those people in AZ are pretty darn friendly. Don’t they know that if you do that in Alabama you’re considered married! They said their names were Ann, Big D and Arizona Harley Dude. I asked for ID but nobody had one. Likely story. I still think they were spies from the California Air Resource Board sent to Arizona to try and screw up that State also.
The next thing I know I’m being dragged into some two hundred year old building they said was a restaurant. I think the waitress built the place, but she had a mind like a steel trap. She took everyone’s order without a notepad and got everything perfect. Now I’m being forced to eat some strange redneck food while listening to a discussion about the proper use of the word penis. Hell, maybe I did get married that morning. I know I heard Dueling Banjos playing on the eight-track.
Shortly after that I found myself with a whole bunch of those leather-clad types on bikes, riding from one end of town and back again. It was like some sort of circus freak-show. I could see the towns-folks pointing and warning their children. You could hear them: “See that one with the beard and tattoos? Stay away from him! He’s trouble”. The sign on the hardware store said there was a “this weekend only” sale on “pitchforks”. I wonder why. I kept a close eye on them.
After all the dirty looks from the locals I spent the afternoon following around a 2-speed Sporty. The two speeds were 0 and friggen 90. Nothing in between. Anybody who doubts that a Sporty packing two-up can’t leave a Big Twin in the dust; well shit happens. After a day of riding in the cold, rain, heat and everything in-between, we wound up at a local shop for some pretty darn good road-kill to put in our bellies. Possum, maybe beaver or squirrel. Don’t matter, it was good.
Later on we went to one of those places folks go to and play grab-ass. They have beer, liquor and other mind altering stuff. You best keep an eye on you ass if you go to one of these establishments, someone might grab it and not give it back. But hey, if you think your ass is too big and you want to lose some, sign up for the frequent ass-grabber plan. After a few hours of grab-ass watching and more local animal abuse, it was back to my plywood Sorta Perfect Sleeper.
The next morning was some leftover possum and a trip from Williams to Phoenix for a overnight before heading back to CA. It was pretty uneventful except that you ride through some of the most spectacular scenery on earth. When we got close to Phoenix and traffic was starting to back-up Ann warned us that we “could not” split lanes in AZ. So being good law-abiding citizens we respected the law and “did not” split lanes. We rode down the shoulder to our exit.
Eventually we found our way to Big D’s garage. Full of bike, parts and tools. I felt right at home. The fact that Ann, Big D, AHD, the kids and the folks from B.A.C.A. that stopped by were all down-home genuine folks didn’t hurt either. Some of the best people you would ever want to meet if you ever get over that way. The rest of the nights activities are a little fuzzy, so rather than make stuff up I’ll leave it out. I will say this: “Big D, if you ever run for public office I’ll vote for you”. Even though you probably wouldn’t win because most people won’t accept the truth.
The next days ride back to CA sucked (damn helmet law!). Don’t get me wrong. It was a good ride with great friends, B.B. and Dave, but you’re ridding away from something you don’t want to end. While the saying “ There’s always next year” is true, it took me so long to get of my ass and finish writing this that “next year” is only a few months away.