Date: Tue, 13 Jun 1995 13:24:36 -0600 (MDT)
From: Penny Powers <ppowers@silver.sdsmt.edu>

Part II - The Gregory Residence Inn

"Is it raining out there?"
"Yes."
"My ass is cold, do I have to get out of this sleeping bag?"
"Yes."
"Now?"
"Yes, Penny."

On vacation it's Skiv who rolls out of the rack at Oh-Dark-Thirty.  Has 
to.  No damn coffee for *miles*. Iowa is green and wet. The tent is soaked 
and so are the bikes. Roll up the sleeping bags and the tent and put them 
in plastic bags. Put *us* in plastic and ride to breakfast.  Onawa, Iowa.
Thirty miles.

"Are you ready to order, sir?"
"Lady, I can't even read this menu until you bring me some coffee."
"Right away, sir."

I think the rain has stopped. We met another geezer in the parking
lot on a red FLHS. He's on his way to Laconia from Coos Bay, Oregon,
and he says he gets the distance trophy every year. Comes to this
little town in Iowa every year and beats the crap outta the locals
at poker. "Beats paying *my* money for the trip, don't it?" he said. 

Massive omelets, toast, greasy potatoes.  Locals trickle in.  "Hey, you 
old bastard!  How they hangin'?  Har har."  Skiv's had enough coffee to 
make nasty comments.  Ever notice the ladies don't do stuff like that?  
Penny starts devastating social commentary, so the check arrives and we 
leave.

South on I-29 into Missouri. Even greener, even wetter, and the people
have *accents*...."Y'all from South Dakota?" "Yep."

Follow Ivan's directions and hold the map in my teeth for the last
four or five turns.  Tiny cloud overhead takes a last swipe at the 
travelers and unloads softball size rain drops mixed with tiny hail. Duck 
into a gas station and Skiv is surrounded by steam, drying his leather 
with strong language.

Geez, nice neighborhood, Ivan. We make the last turn and pull up to an
open garage with three sleazy lookin' guys standing there drinkin'
beer and two loaded-down harleys visible in the garage. The place
is crawlin' with kids on those little plastic "big wheels" tricycles.
The two making loud motor noises while riding must be Ivan's.

Handshakes all 'round. 

Ivan Gregory - A short man in cowboy boots with a greying beard and
a soft voice.  Look in Webster's under "patience", and his picture is in 
there.  There is wisdom here. He has a beautifully infectious 
laugh and a hearty handshake. Rides a blue FXR that Penny covets mightily.
When you want to ride somewhere with no bullshit, ask Ivan to lead.

Kevin Lee (aka cyberthug) - A tall, lanky man with a pronounced limp
due to a "bum knee". He has a scraggly beard and thin longish greying
hair in a ponytail. Speaks quietly and only when he has something
profound to say. Extremely polite.  Points to one machine and defines it 
as a "Fat Electric Bad Boy". Grins a lot.

Ron Schaeffer - Colorado athletic type who plays hockey and still has
his own teeth. Thick short greying hair. Big smile and strong handshake.  
Nice bike.  Skiv guesses Convertible. Penny wants this one, too.

Putt Baby Bagger and Assignment in the garage.  They look even smaller 
than usual.

Ron and Kevin rode in from Colorado together and arrived only a few
minutes before Skiv & Penny. It wasn't any time at all before we
all had beers in our hands and were swappin' stories. 

Ivan's wife Sherry brings him the baby to watch. "Chance" is three
months old and promptly barfs on the old man. "Boy. Barf On You", says 
Dad. 

We sit and stand around looking at bikes, drinking Ivan's beer and 
Glenlivet out of Skiv's hip flask while we're waiting for Sasquatch to 
arrive from Colorado. He's due any minute. We're told by Ivan that he's  riding a Triumph and should be here soon. Then we can go for barbecue.   Ivan speculates Sas is going to be late if he's riding an old Trumpet.   We start looking forward to seeing some classic iron -- 650 Bonny in a  rigid frame? -- and making jokes about the Prince of Darkness.

It takes a few minutes, but here comes a whirrrring sound into the drive. Yep, that's him. Brand new Triumph Speed Triple being ridden by a huge man in a Harley cold suit.  License plate says "BADTRP".

He gets off the bike and gives everyone a handshake
that ripples your carpals and metacarpals. Then he takes off the suit
and grabs a beer. Sas has a strawberry blonde braid the thickness of
your wrist that is long enough to tuck into his belt. His smile is so
wide you can't believe that that many teeth belong to the same person.
He downs two beers in the blink of an eye and we decide we're starving
with a hunger that can only be cured with....*barbecue*!!

Stay tuned for Part III - Zarda's

Penny & Skiv