During the Savage Seven I picked the T-shirts
up, along with the jars I'd set out for folks that hadn't registered to drop
money in. When I was in the house I told Karen it was time for popcorn. She was
still working in the kitchen, exhausted, but complied. I don't remember if I
went back to the old store building for more beer and ice. I talked to the
folks under the tent who weren't watching the movie, checking occasionally how
close it was to the end and when I needed to change the tape.
When that time came, I cued up one of the CD
players with "Let's Go Out To The Lobby" as I forwarded The Wild
Angels past the FBI warning. Doug Loose came up to me and told me I was warped
for doing that. Heheheh.
After the second movie, folks started to head
for their tents so I wrapped cords and got the projector and VCR out of the
dew. I was too wired to sleep, so I booted the computer as I counted the money
from the jar. I had always said that any profits were going to the Eddie Kieger
Trust. We had broke even and were up about $20. I dialed in and checked for any
last minute emails. I scanned through the newsgroups, found nothing of
interest. I heard the neighbor's dog barking, went out on the front porch,
smoked a cigarette and tried to tell her it was OK. It didn't seem to have much
effect. Even from the front of the house I could hear someone snoring *very*
loudly. I think all she was trying to do was say, "shut up, I'm trying to
sleep!"
A couple of hours after I finally went to bed
Karen woke me up. "You need to get the coffee, there's people up
already!"
Oh jeeze. Well, grab the cord I had used from
the projector, plug it in the outlet on the wall outside, run it to the serving
table and hook it to the loaded percolator Karen handed me. She was making the
orange juice, I was half asleep so I'm not sure if I took the fruit out or if
she did. We hadn't bought donuts yet, it was too early for the local
supermarket bakery to be open, so off Karen went to the 24hour WalMart
Supercenter 10 miles away. I'm not sure if I sat with people or if I hid. Karen
returned with pastries. I remember walking my littlest dog around the field on
the other side of the fence so I wouldn't have to put on rubber gloves like I
had the day before. When I came back, folks were ready for showers.
I had asked Gina at Campus Recreation how
much they charged for non-UT people to use the swimming pool in the Arena. She
told me $2 and I told her the MAMBM short version and how I may have a bunch of
people wanting to clean up. She said that the Arena didn't open until 1PM. I
asked if she could have someone come in early. She said I had keys and rather
than ask permission I could beg forgiveness if caught. It would cost nothing if
she didn't "know" about it.
I drove to town, got my UT radio, set it to
the Campus Security frequency and came back.
I told anyone that wanted to wash up to meet
me in front of the store. I got the Whatzit out of the garage, kicked it over
and pointed it toward town. As bikes came out of the gate and appeared, I
headed for the Arena. I'm not used to group rides, much less leading. When I
got behind a minivan going 10 miles an hour in the 4-lane's 30 zone, I
instinctively zipped around it and back into the right lane to turn right into
the driveway. I realized my error as soon as I had done it. I had at least 10
bikes behind me with no idea where they were going, wondering if to pass or
stay behind the vehicle, wondering if the vehicle was going to turn right also.
Dammit, what an idiot move. The guys were gracious, but I knew I had really
screwed up.
I opened the doors and showed the way to the
showers, then went back outside to watch the bikes and listen in case Security
was headed this way. Saturday morning this early there would be only one
patrolman, and he would most likely be in the dispatch office talking to the
student on duty. There was no radio traffic for the duration of our stay.
When everyone returned, I told them they knew
the way back and that I was going to hang back so I could hear my motor as I
kicked it over. I really didn't want to lead again. I took a back way home, and
for about the only time the entire weekend the sweat dried from me and I didn't
feel tired. The aches of age went away and I zipped along the familiar road,
but all too soon I came back to the highway and turned onto my street, into my
driveway, and through the front gate where I parked the bike in the grass of
the back yard.
|
Photo: Kurt Bigalke |
Photo: TL |
Photo: EVLTWN |
|
Photo: John Schnupp |
Photo: John Schnupp |
Photo: John Schnupp |
|
Photo: Kurt Bigalke |
Photo: Kurt Bigalke |
Photo: Kurt Bigalke |
