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Thursday, January 13, 2011

long ass ride






I wish i could remember the year hell they all just seem to meld together at this point. My wife me my buddies Paul and Big Jim and the ole ladies they had in tow all went up to Laconia bike week but my bud Big Jim had a deal he couldnt pass up on a cabin he would rent and split the bill with all of us up in Lake Ossipee, i hope i spelled that right. It was a great place right on the water pretty much but the downside to the cabin was it was almost an hour out of the Weirs and up in the mountains. At first we didnt mind it was a sweet ride down the mountain and into town we all had a blast the first day but the second it started to catch up to us, the rain was non staop heavy and hard and when we contacted a bro who was in the Weirs he said we had to be bullshitting him it was sunnt no clouds. Apparently the friggin mountains had other ideas for us . We hooked up with a buddy of ours Sanchez or as we loved to call him FAT KID lol he wasnt fat it was just an odd nickname he got as a kid and it stuck. We all did our best with hefty bags to make makeshift rain gear and sanchez decided his head had to stay dry so he wrapped it around the brim of his scalp with duct tape and looked like an oil sheik riding down the mountain.The day went off famously as they say in the lifted pinkie crowds and we scooted back a little weary after a long day of everything but behaving. the next day was when it made us pay real hard, it was sleeting and it was sleeting hard . We had to make it into town because the big ass kick band skynrd was playing and we didnt wanna miss that shit. Halfway down the hill my bud paul pussed out and started whining "im wet im wet "so we found another bro with a cabin and stopped in to soak up the fireplace. My bud paul stood in front of the fire for an hour, and shivered and the sleet had now turned into hail the size of golf balls. Even my wife was trying to talk him and Big jim into the ride down we were halfway down and the hail would stop at some point if we headed into town but if we turned back we were gonna eat hail the whole way.My homeboys werent budging they wanted to head back and dry out  so i did the only thing i could and that was head back with them ( couldnt leave em fending for themselves) however we didnt get 5 minutes up the road and i snapped.They wanted to go 2 miles an hour in this hail because they were cold i had my wife on the back of my whip and i said to them" see you  in the garage" and opened it up.You can ride real slow and careful and it would be safer im sure but at 60 with my wife and all i was straight as an arrow and the hail doesnt hurt worse then ouch no matter what why prolong it. We got back to the cabin a half hour later and my bro's rolled in no kidding an hour after that.It was the end of the bike week as we knew it that year after that the discovery channel blew up and everything with billet was a "chopper" and anyone they featured was a "master builder". The place went from a party with good people to T-shirt week with weekend warriors and a death toll that kept on rising as more people who didnt ride normally were riding like cowboys and drinking to boot. To this day my wife is the onl 5 foot tal woman i have seen at the spoke make a 6 ft 7 dude move when she said" i need that barrell" and he said" find another "and she said" ok im puking now" and he hauled ass. good times were had by all including Paul who before he softened up actually asked a female NH statie to show him her tits...and then ran like a hooker in church. we did have a blast before the whole thing became american chopper friendly.To all my friends and family who were there and still go despite the new scene cheers, maybe the smoke out is better.I will never forget 450 pound Scotty throwing Mr Mowry in the lake or the Dude with one leg and no chest plate sleeping in the barkoounger and having a night terror and beating the shit out of the reading lamp that was hanging over him while his chest was pounding in and out and his left legs nub was thumping.Or the same big dude Scotty throwing his wheelchair down the hill at the weirs . These are the memories you never lose and make you smile on bad days.Thank god for good times. Seems the older you get the longer it seems since you were that guy . 

1 comment:

  1. Those were some good times. I remember standing in front of the fire place at Sanchez's buddy's place the whole time you were getting the 10 cent tour. I figured I'd dry off as much as I could so we could make it to the spoke to see Skynyrd. Couldn't believe Paul was the one to whimp out. Then again...

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