This was the second year to the Redwood Run for the Fatboy. It seems like every year, I take a little less. Gotta have plenty of pillows, though. After a while, that'll probably be all I take. Just throw some pillows in the dirt, and that's my campsite.
We stopped for the occaisional drink along the way, which was new to me. Not that I'm a tee-totaler, just not a common activity for me now that I'm old and broken down.
There's a 'Collector's Store' under construction at the website, so maybe they're learning.
Speaking of old, it sure seems like the women at this thing are getting younger and more out of my league. Speaking of young women out of my league, there's a young woman named Jennifer who works at the cafe across from the hotel where we've stayed the last few times. My, oh, my. Just an angel. She said she remembered us from last year, but she was probably just humoring the aging bikers. Sure sweet, though
As always, we made new friends, whose names I don't now remember. One of our neighbors was Phil, and heck, can't remember the other guy's name. He had a contraption on his knee, and a custom bike built out of an FXR and a Schwinn, complete with pink plastic bulb horn. It sounds goofy, but you knew who was sneaking up behind you when he tooted it. It seemed like there were fewer people this year. I heard that there were three deaths, but I couldn't tell if they were caused by rider error or driver error.
A really nice looking woman came and sat with me for a while one day. She was drinking a beer, and I think trying to get away from her boyfriend for a while. She told me her name, but I've forgotten. Sheryl, Sharon, something like that. Susan, I think. If I'd been smart, I would have gotten her picture. Maybe she'll see this, and send it to me, along with her phone number.
We used to just ride straight through, but the last couple of years left early the day before and stopped at a hotel. Shower and breakfast with Jennifer really makes for a nice start to the run. We're talking about somehow obtaining some sort of RV and a trailer. It's hell getting old, but at least you seem to have a little more money than when you were young.
We got in pretty early for a change, one advantage to sleeping nearby the night before. Snagged a spot just off the road up to Chimeny Flat. The showers were a quick stumble down the hill behind us. Too bad the back wall of the shower trailer wasn't plexiglass or something, at least on the women's side. Maybe I'll make that suggestion. Heck, they could charge extra for the premium camp spots.
Didn't buy much this year, but then, I never do. Got a shirt for me, and one for Fletcher. Got a stack of pins from the last few runs, but no good place to put them. Maybe I'll break down and buy a leather vest and punch a few holes in it.
Walking up and down the hill is always a challenge. Here's yet another suggestion; designate a shuttle just for that hill. If I lived here, though, I'd get in pretty good shape.
Elvin was great, as always. I koncked out for the later bands, which is too bad; I wanted to see Joan Jett. I have a thing for skinny, butch babes, I guess. Well, skinny women generally. Well, any women, generally. But heck, Joan plays guitar; we could jam, as they say. She's had the same guitar for like the last twenty or thirty years, which is the sign of someone really attached to a particular instrument. I like that.
