Biketober Fest - Oct 2001

Green eyes, that fine mess, and I rode off on a bright chilly morning to participate in that autumnal revelry, Biketoberfest. Five miles from Mexico Beach we picked up an unwanted hitchhiker. A 3 inch screw in the rear tire. Our scoot behaved admirably considering that we where moving at 80+ mph. She bucked and yawed aggressively but settled down gently.

Being in the piney woods of no mans land and afraid of being rectally probed by a syphilitic bear we pulled out our puncture repair kit, the cell phone. Big Bike Superstore in Panama City, Fl responded with a trailer and a ride back to the shop. The folks there are just super, offering us a loaner bike so we could go to lunch while they made the repairs. 1st KA-CHING, $200 for new tire and tow.

Four hours behind schedule we had to make a hard push in the remaining time. Hard riding always consumes fuel so at Outzen's in Newport, Fl we filled ‘er up with adult libations and oyster shooters.

Out side of Perry, having slowed down to a respectable 78 MPH in a 55 zone we received radar love. Quickly lighting a stoogie and exhaling nimbus clouds I destroyed the bureaucratic representative's olfactory senses thereby saving myself from detention. Never the less this was the second KA-CHING in less than 6 hours. A $140 speeding ticket.

Saturday morning found us on Main Street taking in the sights (and beer). And what sights. The silicon was definitely bigger than during the March fez. Some contents where under extremely dangerous pressure. At least one damsel believed in truth in advertising. She had tattooed "Home Grown" across the cleavage. Their was also major booty showing everywhere. Tight, round, delicious, in hot shorts or anal floss framed by black leather chaps.

Someone always has to ruin it with coarse, vulgar displays though. A fire plug had to ride her Honda through the crowd with her cottage cheese, collard green eating ass billowing out of her short shorts and over the saddle. I mean this was ass for days and days and days.........

Getting back to our scoot to consume Southern viands at Osteen's in St Augustine (by way of Iron Horse of course) we found the pillion extender that allows Green Eyes to ride for 2 hours without complaint, gone. Obviously stolen by those nice folks on Hondas. Another KA-CHING, this time $90, not yet 24 hours.

After lunch a ride to Palatka beckoned. There on Hwy 100 is the Cheyenne Social Club and Biker Bar. Cold beer, good food and oysters by the bucket. Yes, you order oysters, you get a bucket full, plus a knife and shuck your own.

Afterwards we ride to Cross Creek. The home of Marjorie Keenan Rawlings the writer of the book by the same name and "The Yearling". She wrote eloquently about cracker life among the Florida hammocks.

Now I've never been lost before, seeing how nobody had to come and find me, but I've been a might bit bewildered and confused. Shunning the use of maps and using my cunning sense of direction I became more confused than a suckling tot at a titty bar. Went in circles round the back roads of Hawthorne until Green Eyes mentioned that we kept passing the same trees.

Anyway it's pretty country side.

The fun had to end and so we headed home on Sunday by way of Wakulla Springs Lodge and made plans to spend a weekend there. All in all it was a fun and enjoyable 1,000+ mile weekend that became more expensive than a week long vacation. Going to get a tee shirt saying "I Survived Shit Creek..."

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