May Chapter Ride -- STAR 117 Forum

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Date Posted: 19:05:45 05/18/03 Sun
Author: Webmaster
Subject: May Chapter Ride

Well, the long-awaited 1st-ever Chapter function to meet in Crestview was met with scorn from the Gods...

The plan? Simple. Meet in Crestview... (1st mistake?)
Shake hands, steal hugs, share stories of late night fatigue and make last minute cell-phone calls. (I'm surprised that Dan doesn't own a Satellite phone by now...)
The schedule? Ride on I-10 to Pensacola, ride in the "Bear Run", and return to support the fundraiser for a fellow downed biker at Bamboo Willie's. A simple, elegant, publicly popular plan. (See line 1.)
The ride into Pensacola was uneventful. I lost my flag off the back of the bike at 8X mph, but no one was harmed (unlike solid gold flying eagles of previous rides...)
We rode to the rendezvous with the Abate-sponsored Bear Run (to collect stuffed animals for the police to distribute to children.) We arrived in time to get our commemorative pins and decided to mosey to a nearby Krystal Burger to indulge in some cholesterol and carbohydrate restocking. We even received complementary sluggish service with a hold on the smiles.
**To the staff of Krystal's - if my presence bothered you, I apologize. However, I do find staff taking smoke breaks while the line goes out the door to be...lacking.**
As a few of us sat eating and chatting, a brief shower came through. We watched in mild amusement as more people began piling into the little place.
The shower ended, and we graciously departed, pausing at the door from Mr. Findley to attempt a Chapter fund-raiser as cover-charge collector. No money, but we had a laugh anyway.
We returned to our freshly sprinkled-upon bikes and most of us went about the task of drying up the spot-making rain drops. I even teased Scott (or whatever his name is this week) about this being the wash-cycle, and his trip next week to DC being the rinse cycle. All were in good spirits.
Meanwhile, gloom-and-doom Dennis continued to remark about wind direction and darkness of the looming clouds. Gail's companion (I'm sorry, I forgot your name), turned on his weather radio. Talk about doom and gloom...
Bill and Scott put more effort into thier bikes than anyone. I'm glad I wore contact, because Gail would have sprayed them and wiped them down too... I don't know which God those three ticked off, but their time - and mine - was coming. The air grew cooler by the moment...
To the west, the sky continued darkening, until it went from darkness to a gray wall. The sprinkles started and the Abate folks announced that the bears could be tossed into their trailer to keep them dry. As the crowd began filling the trailer, the sky parted, and thoughts of an ark crossed my mind...
A voice echoed in my head as I ran for cover at the nearby bank - go forth Bob, and build an ark, and collect two of every bike: two V-Stars, two Roadstars, two Harley's... etcetera. NOTE TO SELF: Listen to the voices in my head...
We congregated in the nearby bank's drive through shelter watching the weather continue to poor down. Ambulances were traveling in both directions as we watched the day go from great to - well - wet.
Shortly after it began, the Abate coordinators announced that the police could not run the ride due to safety and four hours worth of foul-incoming weather. We were thanked for our participation and generosity (a hallmark I am proud to note from time to time about "bikers".)
The weather paused momemtarily (proof, that God has a sense of humor) and we dahsed to our bikes to gather our rain-gear. No sooner had we approached the bikes and the wind and rain returned in earnest. We grabbed our gear and dashed back to the bank to dress up for what promised to be an interesting and challanging ride home.
With no break in site, it was decided it was time to go. Intel from spouses in the know (e.g. "dry") said to take Hwy 98 to avoid getting clobbered on I-10 on the return leg.
This is where stories will change.
Upon exiting, John/Roxanne, Bill and I headed south, everyone else apparently went to K-Mart or Wally World to get rain gear. (HINT - saddlebags are useful!)
The three bikes (John/Roxanne, Bill, and I) began our trek southward. The rain was heavy, winds gusty, and road drainage - hasn't been invented in Pensacola yet.
Bill rode slowly and cautiously, having trouble with his goggles fogging up (as was I.) Between the rain and fog, our visibility would drop to under 100 feet. Bill apparently had worse visualization of the road. He took his time, and I covered his back side.
We made it to 98 and paused at the Texaco for high-milage John to tank up. We caught up with two other riders who were in no better shape, and in no hurry to leave the shelter with the gas pumps.
John and Roxanne kindly offered Bill their extra face-shield -- a truly generous offering of concern and compassion (wrapped in leather.) Roxanne even offered my her face shield, however, my sun visor would not come off no matter how hard I pulled. When the rivet came completely off my helmet, I relented to riding with my goggles.
Watching people exit the convenience store and run to their cars as if allergic to water provided momentary comic relief and the three of us decided to get going. Upon catching 98 and turning south towards the Pensacola bridge, the fates decided to tease us some more.
I saw an extremely low, dark cloud moving towards the Gulf-Breeze side of the bridge. John's Harley had emergency flashers which helped Bill and I keep them in sight. Bill and I hit our bright beams and used our turn signals to keep cars behind us honest.
We crested the bridge and saw the fierocity of the darker cloud moving over us. To make the fellow Gods laugh, the God of traffic lights threw us a red-light. The wind began gusting as we sat helpless to the fate before us. Roxanne later commented that she saw a water-spout. Though I didn't see it, I did see debris blowing across the road just before the light turned green.
We cruised through Gulf Breeze in torrential downpours and wind gusts until heading east past the Pensacola Beach exit, where we began to catch the edge of the storm and then out-run it.
We made relatively good time to Navarre and the air was warming up and the rain was thinning until there was no rain and only warm air to dry our wet bodies.
Then the God of HUNGER struck John and Roxanne and we pulled into a Taco Bell. We ordered our food and found them much more receptive to us as "customers."
We ate our food, discussing our experience when the God of Wind (in concert with the God of Hunger) brought the storm over Navarre and we hung our heads (in due respect) and knew we had to get going.
We returned to the wet and puddled pavement they call "roads" (more like open-ditches, if you ask me.) We made eastward again and again outpaced the storm. We made it into Mary Esther, took Freedom Way northward and looked helplessly at the dark threatening sky ahead.
We detoured to Wally World in Ft. Walton for Roxanne and Bob who discovered that those cheap $10 yellow rain suits are more like sitting in water balloons then rain suits. Of course, they were sold-out of the good ones.
We hit the road, parted our ways, and made it home safely before the rain caught up with us.
NOTE TO CHAPTER: We need a rain rider rocker to award to those who make chapter rides in the rain.

I am dry now, my bike is dry, my humor is dry, and now it's time to go dry my boots.
Y'all ride safe, ride dry, and keep the rubber down, and the chrome up. Peace.

Bob

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