Yah. Running through the storms. Without raingear. Standing water on the road. Scarcely slowing from highway speeds. Crappy visibility. Cold. Wet. Alone.
And this is how you remind me . . .
This is how you remind me of what I really am . . .
So why was I grinning like a schoolboy that just found his big brother’s stash of Penthouse?
Savage joy. Soaring spirit. Flying high. Lust.
But I’ve power in my own right.
I eyed the speedometer and eased off the throttle a bit. I was leading, and as such, have a responsibility not to lead my tailgunner into trouble.
I glanced back at the big Goldwing behind me, its rider punching it effortlessly through the flying water and heavy rains.
Heh heh . . . well . . . at least not too much trouble anyway.
The rain lightened up as we rolled into Jasper, Texas. We took the opportunity to fuel the bikes and grab a burger. Fuel for the man is important too, and if you’re into burgers, Whataburger has the fuel for the man. Double meat? Double cheese? Triple? Quadruple? Jalapenos? Bacon? More bacon? Chili? As Dean says, “All that bad stuff? Yeah, put it on there.”
Whatever you want, they’ll make it for you. There are some advantages to living in the southwest. The civilized world would not exist without Whataburgers . . . well . . . Whataburgers and iced-tea that is.
The cool (heh heh) thing about most Texas businesses is that they have GREAT air-conditioning. When done right they can keep a restaurant at 65 degrees despite the 110 degree temperatures outside and all the heat from the appliances inside.
Sooooo . . . what happens when a sudden unexpected rain comes along and drops the outside temperatures by 30 degrees for the first time in months? Well, personally, I think the thermostat says something like, “WTF? It’s August for crissakes!” and then in a fit of dedication and disbelief, simply refuses to shut off.
It was COLD in there. Watching the steam rise from my rapidly drying shirt and off my arms I commented to Dean, “Good thing the air-conditioning works eh?” Brrrrrrrrr.
Refreshed and refueled, we looked at the sky and this time, donned the rain gear. Yeah, a fat guy in grey Frogg Toggs. I look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy in mine . . . or maybe the Michelin man. We would travel in the rains all the way to Alexandria.
The Killdares were playing at the Finnegan’s Wake Pub in downtown. We were a couple hours early, but figured we’d find the place and then go find a some food and fuel before the show. I lead Dean on my standard “loop around a bunch of one-way streets a half a dozen times before you find the place” tour and then, well, found the place. It was deserted. Cool! Plenty of time then.
We grabbed a bite to eat and gassed up the bikes, and headed back to the pub. The was interrupted by my standard "loop around a bunch of freeways a bunch of times actually trying to find the town of Alexandria until we've covered all the roads" thing, and the pub was full by the time we got back there. Sheesh!
We walked in the door and I heard, “Hey Daniel!” A couple at the first table had met me at a Texas VRCC bbq thrown by Texas Ranger last year in Fort Worth and decided to meet me there. I've got friends in far away places . . . in lots of far away places . . . and this still surprises me.
They had saved a couple great seats for us! Thanks guys!
The Killdares, once again, rocked the house down. You need to see these guys. Really. By the second set, they had the entire place jumping up and down. It was a hell of a show.
I’m not really sure what the gal in the bikini that wandered through the bar in the beginning of it was all about, but I find, just in general, I am highly in favor of such things. (No pics though. The camera wasn’t ready. Drat.)
Individual players in the band occasionally wander off stage during the music . . . playing their instruments via wireless mics as they walk around the crowd. This time, the bass player got trapped . . . The Finnegan’s Wake is long and narrow and the very enthusiastic crowd was watching the rest of the band had their backs to him and cut off from the stage. He grinned and just sat down at our table and kept playing. Really cool!
The rest of the band's pictures are off their website, as I totally fail at taking pictures whilst I'm rockin'
Roberta Rast is the 2005 National Grand Master fiddle champion. It shows!
Alexandria, Louisiana. It was a hell of a Saturday night.
songs on this installment (in order of appearance)
How You Remind Me--Nickleback
Alexandria, Louisiana on a Saturday Night Navigation:
--Index-- --Part 1-- --Part 2-- --Part 3-- --Part 4-- --Part 5-- --Part 6--