Part one: beginnings.
The 6am alarm sounded, rattling me awake and pissing me off. Last night's vices still lingered in my bloodstream, not keeping me stoned, just keeping me lethargic. Take a shit, get dressed, get my bike out. Almost time to meet up at Jamey's.
On his way to my abode is Chris Taylor, and some other dude, who would later pussy out and end up going home before we even get to the JTO compound. Whatever. Meet with Jamey, hit the freeway, we're there.
As soon as we touch down at the shop we start the small list of last minute b.s. and I scramble to help whoever might need it. Roughly an hour passes, Patrice's risers are changed, Tony's timing is set, and beers are put to the ice. Let's hit the Fuckin trail! We pick up our buddy Dave on the way out of town, and its rubber to road.
We hopped and skipped our asses off of our seats the whole way, blasting down the harrowing shit trail formally known as highway 12. Eventually the bumpy roads gave way to smooth sailing and beautiful views, including the awesome sight from atop the Antioch bridge. Marty swerved in the pickup, Tony scraped in the '59, we all made it.
Arriving at the show I was pleased to learn that a buddy of Jamey's was running the front gate and got us in for free, sparing us the pain of the 30 dollar entry fee. Split through the crowd, park the bikes, beer me.
To be continued....
•End transmission•
No comments:
Post a Comment