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I Found My Hacksaw...Pt. 1 by Philly
Man, I'm telling 'ya - this week has been non-stop! I'm trying to leave
out, again, tomorrow to go to Columbus, MS and just can't seem to find
time to catch up with you and my ass too! Okay, it goes like this...
After we parted ways the other day, (Philly and I hooked up on my Rally in the Valley Ride),
I basically just went and got lost.
I only refer to maps when I have to know where I'm going or how to get
back and since I didn't have anything in particular I wanted to see
(other than the mountain roads with no signs of human life anywhere), I
just pointed him one way and kept turning down these little side roads.
I guess God or whoever or whatever knew I would be wandering all over
the country so I've been blessed with a keen sense of direction and in
knowing how far out I am timewise in getting back to camp before dark.
(Don't like being caught in the dark and the fog in mountains after
dark).
After a couple of beers and rocking my way from side-to-side up
and down the mountains, I started trying to fall asleep so I found me a
nice little pull off and took me a nap beside this little creek. Life
was good!! (Doesn't take much to make me content) Anyway, I went back
into camp where Homer Simpson asked me if I had a bolt cutter cause
(without naming any names) somebody had stolen his keys to his padlock
that was locked on his bike.
The Rebels all came over to offer me
something to eat but I was in a hurry to get a shower, dry my hair and
step out to Thunder Ridge to see what that was all about. It was
already 7:30pm and I wanted to get up early the next day to go riding
again so I headed for the showers. You know, it's amazing what a new
look will do to the guys (or maybe it was the liquor - I don't know...)
But anyway, I wish you could have been there to see their change of
attitude. That is sooo interesting to me. I know I have many looks but
they all turned into playdo pals and the whole scene was pretty cute.
So off to Thunder Ridge I went to watch all these masses of white people
dance to rap music. Now THAT came a close second to the
see-through motorcycle trailer we were barfing over!! I guess that goes
with these "New Wave Riders" (as I call them) but I will never
understand it. Wonder why they don't all go ahead and put disks in
their upper lips too. It's a sure sign of permanent, terminal brain
farts and I felt real out of place but decided to suffer through it to
see if anything would change once the band got up there.
I slowly made
my way around the place checking to see if there was any signs of life
and when I had just about given up - a fella named Tim walked up and
asked me if I wanted to dance to this moderately slow song that was now
playing. I thought, "what the hell" he seemed ok so off we went. Turns
out he's from Myrtle Beach, gives me his card, tells me to call him when
I get in town (if I go) and he'll show me around. Not a bad thing. He
goes on to tell me he used to be on Kawasaki's racing team and bla, bla,
bla and now he's this HOG Chapter leader fixing to resign because (and
get this) none of the 100+ members ever show up on runs ...because why?
Because they don't like camping. Yes, camping. (The poor little
bastards don't want to get dirt under their nails and don't know how to
pee outside!!)
No wonder I felt out of place so I left. Muthuh, this is
another perfect example of why I feel like I was born too late. What
has happened to all the men in this country? Are there any left out
there anywhere? I think we need to initiate the draft again just to
make some more men. Years ago, the hard life of living on the land made
men out of boys but these little pansy-assed, mother-&%$#@rs
(Muthuh always reserves the right to edit submitted reports, I know, I know -
it just don't have the same impact, but Muthuh's MOTHER reads this stuff, so back off!)
don't have anything to be afraid of anymore. Snakes, bears, hungry lions,
poisonous spiders, good-ol' Rebel boys fired up on whiskey and spiked
watermelons and bald-headed Homer Simpsons yielding Samuari swords they
know absolutely nothing about - don't have a clue!!
I'd like to take
'em all and drop them in the deepest part of the woods in Montana.
Damn! Late again! I should have produced that show - "Survivors".
THAT would have been funny!! ("Tough Biker Gang Wimps Out In The Woods -
Part 1" Okay, enough of that!!) So anyway, I go back to the camp and
sit by the fire with my Rebel mates and tell them how Homer keeps
warning me about them. They said he had called the park patrol on them
earlier for continuously stealing his stuff (somebody needed to put his
brain back - I know that). They went on to tell me how they had been
talking to park dude about having their own Stone Bridge Campground
Biker Rally next year in the spring and fall. They were all hyped up
about it. Two of the guys in that group was from Cherokee and so I
guess we'll see what happens there.
But I went to bed and the next
morning I get up and the Rebels are all out cooking breakfast, Homer has
his fire going and seems to have some female visitor sharing his fire
and smoking a joint with him. I'm brushing my teeth and washing my face
from the water hose and guess what happens? Homer comes over to my
firepit and steals my wood!!!! I watch him galantly tromp back over to
his fire and throw it on like he's trying to impress his ladyfriend with
this bold and inconsiderate maneuver. I look over to Rebelville just to
see if they saw what I did to make sure I DID in fact see what I did
and everybody was standing there with their mouths dropped because Homer
had been accusing everybody all weekend of stealing HIS stuff!! I
hollered over there, "I can't believe you just did that!!" and he said
to chicky (not thinking I could hear his dumb-ass), "well believe it."
I had to think about this one for a minute so I finished what I was
doing, went back to the camper, lit a smoke and casually walked over
there.
He offered me a hit on the doob, I graciously accepted, and
proceeded to explain to him that I was staying another night (he seemed
surprised) and was looking forward to lighting that wood later when
everybody else was at home in their warm beds and what he should have
done is taken that big, damn, Samuari sword he was sporting on his side
and used it to go chop some of his own damn wood since he was out to
impress everybody with it. I told him it would have made him look much
more similar to a man than taking wood from a woman. He didn't know
what to say and they all just looked real stupid so I left and went and
ate breakfast with the Rebels. They couldn't believe it.
I say it's typical.
Philly
I Found My Hacksaw...Pt. 2 Dear Muthuh, So I had breakfast with The Rebels, got my head right and got the hell out of Pee Wee Herman's Playground. I wanted to find a leathersmith to give me some advice on some chaps I'm working on so I rode towards Gatlinburg and without having to go into town, I found who I was looking for, had lunch with them, bought a wallet from them for helping me out with my chaps and left. I had a real good ride that day and got back to the camp about 8:30. Since Homer burned my wood up and I felt pretty good, I decided to go ahead, load the bike and start heading back home. I was wanting to get a jump on the clock but I forgot about the clouds in the hills. That was real scary and I wouldn't do it again. An interstate pileup could have easily happened but everytime the sweat really started to squirt out, a break would occur and I could see but then it would start over again. By the time I got to Nashville I was exhausted and was falling asleep at the wheel so I got through Nashville, got off at the last exit, pulled into a White Castle and hid the Yukon behind some pinetrees, crawled in the back and crashed. After I wake up, I get back on the interstate heading towards Memphis. There I am cruising along and I notice I need some gas. I also started thinking about other things and about 45 minutes later, I find myself coasting down the interstate in the emergency lane. I felt like a real dumb-ass but at the same time I felt like James Bond. Trucks were blowing by rocking the trailer and it wasn't a very good place to be in at all. But I unload my bike and take off in search of a gas station. I noticed on the way two other things: 1) a drive across the median where the cops turn around about a mile up from where the Yukon and trailer was parked and 2) a gravel parking lot where the big trucks could pull over on the side and sleep or do whatever they do. So I find my gas station 4 miles up the interstate and the girl gives me a plastic gallon jug and I figured I'd find some way of pouring it in my tank once I got back. So heading back down the interstate, I crossed over the median, rode about a mile down the wrong side of the highway getting back to my rig and had truckers blowing at me making things even more stressfull than it already was and when I got to my truck, I had to stop 40 feet in front of it so I could see the oncoming traffic so I could pull out onto the highway, circle around the back side of my trailer so I could load it again. THAT was hairy, Muthuh. I wouldn't recommend that either but you do what you gotta do. Anyway, I got a screwdriver, poked it down in the gas lid door and tried pouring the gas in but that didn't work. There just so happened to be a fresh paper cup laying alongside the interstate so I poked a hole in the bottom and poured my gas in it and all was reasonably well then. I loaded my bike up and then guess what? I noticed the satellite dish on the roof of the trailer was hanging on by its coax!! There was no way I could get on top of the camper so I hoped that if I drove real slow, I could make it to the gas station to fix it but then I started thinking that they might not have a ladder so I pulled in where the trucks were parked. There were 2 and both drivers seemed to be in their bunks. I didn't want to wake them (you know how I am about that!) but I noticed a 55 gallon drum sitting over by the side so I walked over there, tumped it over, rolled it over to my camper, grabbed some tools, jumped on top of the drum and tightened down the dish. And then guess what? I started looking around up there and there it was behind the a/c - my missing hacksaw!! Been looking for it for about 8 months. You don't think I ran out of gas for nothing do 'ya? Makes life more interesting sometimes.... In the Wind, Philly -(Real Name withheld by request...... probably to keep you kinky bastards from trying to look her up!)  For Information, contact: Muthuh@Muthuh.com
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