We'd been on the road for a few days, and the group was ready for a break. Traveling across the Midwest is bad enough, but more than a day or two gets real old, real quick. The temps were in the 90s and the crosswinds weren't being kind to us at all. As if on cue, we all pulled off in unison and rolled into the rustic gas station/country store.
Looking around at the weary crew, I felt a sense of pride welling inside me.Chuck-E, who'd been in a crash, got his name because of the grisly marks by a woman on a cell phone not paying attention. She paid though, rather, her insurance did, but still Chuck-E had both external and internal scars to deal with. That's the kind of thing that defines the word 'brother'.
Lonesome is a for-real cowboy. He works, when necessary, at his family's ranch and could rope 'em, ride 'em, and break 'em down. Sometimes he'd disappear for days and then reappear like nothing was wrong. We, or I, like to keep track of the troops, and I think it's making me grow more wrinkles.
Gonzo is insane and gets paid for being that way. I don't know what he told those doctors, but it's bringing him about three grand a month, tax free. He's also a painter, a 'painter’s painter', laying down some of the craziest shit I've ever seen. Kind of makes sense somehow, doesn’t it?
Roger is a dentist, but he ain't any yuppie. Sometimes we call him Mr. Clean, cause he's so neat and all. He's also one of those kick boxer judo guys with a black belt in something or another. Never uses his hands to fight, says they're his bread and butter and don't want to mess them up. This guy kicks major ass. I've seen him surprise more than one poor soul.
Then there’s me, Pops. Even though I'm not from that era, I always dug the beatniks and hepcats and all that. To me, that was the beginning of the hippie thing, kind of like a pot bubbling, getting ready to boil over, simmering, ready to explode. That's where a lot of cool cars and bikes were being born, baby! Yeah!
This is our group, club, gang, whatever…family.
We all gassed up our bikes and pushed them over to the front of the store. After shaking off some road dust, we went in. Seeing some tables, I asked the plump, 40 something woman behind the counter, “Do you mind if we rest a while?”
“Oh, not at all”, she said with a smile, 'Now and then we get bike riders through here, most are good people.”
“Thanks a lot”, we all said together. Chuck-E and Lonesome got beers and the rest had water. I don't drink anymore and the others agreed not to get too overzealous with their drinking and revelry until we landed somewhere cool. Keeps the cops away, ya know.
We were all stretching out and relaxing. The woman was reading a magazine. You could hear the constant drone of the wind and highway traffic, kind of a traveler’s mantra. The A/C in the store was doing all it could, but it was still hot in there. I found myself dozing while the other men were exploring their own inner worlds. We all ordered a second round; water, this time, and Roger got a map out and suggested that we find a motel soon. We usually ride for two, or three days, camping at night and get rooms on the next.
The woman, whose name was Rose, brought our drinks and said, “I noticed that three of you wear wedding rings. Don't your wives get upset or angry for leaving them?”At this, I could see Lonesome's face take a somber appearance, “My wife's passed on”, he said, rolling the gold band with his fingers, “but she understood the call of the road.”
Rose stammered, “Oh, I'm so sorry”, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I can see that you loved her a lot.”
“Yeah”, he said, with a sad smile, “but these two sure catch it sometimes!”
Breaking the mood, I said, “It's not that bad, but it would be a lot worse if I was home all the time!”
Roger raised his bottle, “I'll second that one!”
I happened to catch Lonesome's glance and gave him a knowing nod. He did, indeed, love his wife with all he had, but still has moments that are particularly rough, but it's easing off slowly. That's where the brothers come in. We try to help when we can, and leave it alone when we can't.
Rose said, “If you're looking for rooms, there's a small place about twenty miles from here, nothing fancy, but it's clean and has a store on the property.” Looking around at my compadres, I got an affirmation to the idea. Getting directions and paying our bill, we all groaned a little as we made our way for the door. I thought I'd noticed Rose and Lonesome making eye contact again, but as everyone knows, women like bikers, so I brushed it off as passing lust, or envy, or whatever.
On the way to the machines, I'd seen an ant hill, with those huge, furry red ants coming and going, like soldiers, or robots. They were some evil looking characters.
“Hey, Pops, let's get the fuck going!”, Gonzo yelled at me over the roar of his dusty Sucker Punch Sally chopper. Evo engine, rigid frame, down and dirty and bad ass! It was built to his exact specifications.
“I know that's gotta be rough on your old ass, bro”, I'd rag on him occasionally, to which he's reply, “Man, I'm on these psyche drugs, so I don't feel a thing!” Yeah, O.K.
Swinging my leg over the cushy Mustang seat, I thumbed the starter on my new dresser. It took some getting used to, with the extra weight, but I can do as many miles as I want, no problem, and carry as much as I think I'll need.
We pulled onto the frontage road in a loose formation. Sometimes we ride close together, sometimes not, but always within eyesight. We've ridden together long enough that we have signals and codes for almost every situation. Like Rose told us, the motel was 20 miles away, and it was a small, neat place with a store. There was also an older Sporty parked beside the office.
It had an Evo-type engine, mostly stock, lowered, high bars, drag pipes, and forward controls, a functional bike.
“Hey, that's a good sign”, said Chuck-E, “let's check in!” Entering the office, we saw a worn, but still cute clerk at the desk.
“Well, howdy boys, come in, come in!”
Roger and I normally bunk in the same room because we're faithful husbands, and the others get their own, just in case. “We'll take four rooms”, I said.
“All rightee then, that'll be $120 and I'll put you all together around back for security”, said the clerk, whose name was Joanie.
Chuck-E asked her, “That your scooter?”
“Sure is”, she beamed,” Finally got 'er like I want 'er! Had it lowered 'cause I'm kinda short, and did the rest just for coolness!” “
”Yeah!”, we all agreed.
“Guess Rose sent you guys here, right?”
“Yes, she did. She's a friend?” Lonesome asked. “We've been friends forever, and seems like we've lived around here forever, too”, Joanie replied.
I thought to myself, 'Hmm, this could be interesting, but if there was another friend in the mix, the troops could party in proper fashion.'Joanie then piped in,” You all get settled in, and we'll see you later.” It seemed like she put an extra emphasis on 'we'll', but I let it go. After checking into our rooms and cleaning up, we all walked over to the little store for some food and drink, only to find it closed. Joanie yelled at us from across the way, “Hey, refreshments are on the way!”
We all looked a bit shocked when two cars pulled into the parking lot, full of women! Behind the cars were two bike riders. I thought to myself again,
And not too surprisingly, Rose, was driving one of the cars.
The sun was setting and it was cooling off outside. The women piled out of the cars, opening the trunks full of BBQ, fried chicken, beer, and a variety of straight drinks…the works! They set about getting the food on the outside picnic tables while Joanie and Rose made introductions. Someone plugged in a stereo with 70's and 80's rock music. A few couples were dancing and I saw Rose and Lonesome walking into the darkness. Roger said to me, “‘Bout time, ain't it, bro?”
I punched him lightly on the arm, “Yeah, but you know he lost a lot when Missy died. It'll take time…”
We struck up a conversation with one of the bike riders, Tom, discussing bikes, women, travels, the usual shit. Tom offered some weed which Roger accepted, but I didn't. Then I noticed Chuck-E and Joanie over on the steps in front of his room, sitting VERY close and having sort of a wrestling match with their tongues.
Gonzo and the other rider, Tonka, a giant person, were joking around with four women by the picnic table. Gonzo's fairly entertaining most of the time and never has a problem attracting girls. He ain't that good-looking, just insane…and naturally uninhibited.
I walked over to our bikes when I noticed that I was being followed by this little firecracker of a redhead named Debby. She looked like one of those TV exercise girls, fit and trim, and slightly drunk.
“Hey, Pops, whatcha doin'?” she slurred.
“Just checkin' things out,” I said. She had been giving me the eye since they'd arrived and I guessed that this was her move. She was pushing her body tight against mine. Now, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't tempted, but I know that I've got a great woman at home and want to keep her. Debby was reaching for my belt when I stopped her. “I know a girl as pretty as you has a man somewhere.”
“Yeah, I do. My fiancé' is off in that fuckin' war. He's been gone a year and I'm so horny. I know a man like you can please a woman,” she begged. Debby looked up at me, licking her lips, thrusting out her c-cups at me, with that 'I'm in heat look'.
There's something about a pretty girl saying the word 'fuck' that really gets to me. Whew!
“First of all, Debby, honey, I really appreciate all this, I mean REALLY, but I'm a faithful, married man. Second, you may be the only thing keeping your man going over there. I know that you're lonesome, and you miss him, but hopefully your relationship is worth this short time apart. Just hold on, for him, and for yourself.” Damn, I thought, sounds like something my wife would say!
Something must have struck a nerve, 'cause tears were welling up in her eyes and she hung her head down. “I'm sorry, Pops,” she said, “don't think badly of me.”
“Never, sweetheart, never”, I said hugging her tightly and giving her a light kiss on her forehead. This brought on a sad smile and she walked away.
It's tough work being a nice guy.
This kind of party atmosphere must have been a regular thing because a few of the group had gone to the empty rooms leaving the area a mess to be cleaned the next day, I imagined. It appeared that the rest of our crew found friends to play with, Lonesome and Rose, Chuck-E and Joanie, Gonzo and a couple of cuties. I knew Roger had turned in so I had to be quiet entering the room. I'd get up to make some notes in my journal for another epic tale in the future.
The good thing about this kinda stuff is that a lot of the people nowadays don't get out and explore this country and it's people. With this in mind, someone telling a story can jazz it up in the boring spots and no one will be the wiser. Of course, the ones who do know don't give a shit anyway! Makes for good copy, and an occasional buck or two!After finishing my notes, I took shower, and turned in. As I dozed off, I found myself thinking about the luscious Debby, and her turmoil that she must face alone.
The next morning, I heard noises outside, so I got up and looked out the window. Two girls had started the chore of cleaning the picnic area. There really wasn't that much of a mess, but Joanie liked the place neat and tidy for regular-type travelers. I thought to myself that this would definitely be a semi-regular stop when we were out this way.
A bit later, everyone was piling out of there respective rooms and preparing to pack and get on the road again. It appeared that a lot had transpired between Rose and Lonesome, besides the obvious, of course. They seemed to have quite a bit in common, including the death of a spouse, and exchanged numbers and addresses. Chuck-E and Joanie were still hanging on to each other like they'd known each other forever, also exchanging numbers. Gonzo, naturally, was being his normal self, and apparently had made some new friends, too. We all promised to come back around when we could, but I think the Lonesome and Rose maybe had another agenda.
Over across the lot, I saw Debby busying herself with something and walked over to her. I had written my number on the back of one of Roger's business cards, along with my and my wife's names. “I hope you're going to be alright, Debby,” I said, “if you ever need someone to talk to about anything, don't hesitate to call!”
“Thanks, Pops, for everything,” she said.
As I gently stroked her soft face with the back of my hand, she took my hand in hers and closed her eyes for a moment. I could tell she was fighting back tears again, and I left her alone with her thoughts.
Everyone was packed and ready to hit the road again. After another round of hugs, handshakes, and sweet kisses, we fired up our waiting steeds. As we rolled onto the old frontage road, we all glanced over our shoulders to nod farewell to a group of new found friends!
It never hurts to end an article with a random ass shot to get the blood moving. Maybe this will motivate some of you to get off your asses and go make an adventure of your own.
