End of an adventure

Team Spuds arrived home today at 1630. I know that announcement sounds like an easy going fairy tale.....but wait.....there's more!!!
Joe and Gayle the hard a$$ bosses decided to shut the joint down a bit early on Friday (as we were leaving early(??) on Saturday) to give the team a much needed bit of R&R. Joe had just discovered the Spearfish library and thought that would be a perfect respite for the crew. Unfortunatly, he was quickly subdued (a mutiny if you will) and forced to the bowels of Sodom in downtown Sturgis. He was really glad he went!
We didn't get near as many pictures as we wanted due to the fact that many of the folks you wanted to photograph had really seedy looks and didn't appear ready to settle in to a photo session and Joe was too scared to take their photo. Awful rough looking group and the men looked rougher.
We did get a few (couple) though and may even post them here. We had dinner at the Loud American where a couple hours later an off duty Seattle police officer shot and wounded a member of the Hells Angels Club, and from there we ended up in the Allstate insurance beer garden, that's right, a beer garden sponsered by Allstate insurance. Kinda like the dentist handing out candy and saying "y'all come back now ya hear". It was here we ran into our vending neighbors from Boss Hoss motorcycles (of which I am currently accepting donations for the "Help Spuds get a Boss Hoss Trike") and we listened to some good music and watched a 300 pound lady(?) in fishnet stockings, a low cut...very low cut, leather outfit deal with the business end of a turkey leg while also chewing on her.....boyfriend? The leg didn't stand a chance and the boyfriends chances were questionable. From there it was off to One Eyed Jacks for another beverage and some choice people watching. It provided plenty of both. We finished up at the Full Throttle Saloon where Gayle watched folks from the relative safety of the truck, Troy babbled away on his cell phone and Katherine and I braved the elements inside. This place is something. A dozen bars, some pretty good music and sights from many stages and lots and lots of people. It was here we once again ran into the boys of Boss Hoss and they made sure we experienced a "JagerBomb". After watching the conclusion of a fight inside the Full Throttle, another bout of youthful exuberant fisticuffs outside, and a $600,000 Motor Coach and Trailer piloted by a bunch of college frat boys and and their indulgances for the evening try and ram a Honda car out of the exit line, we left for home- I mean the rv park. It was late!
We were up and had the rv and trailer secured for heading home by 9:30 a.m. (Pretty good, considering Joe and Kathryn had partied too hard the previous night into the morning hours.) The first 3 hours on the road in our Winnabago was an uneventful, peaceful event. By hour 4 the the Winnabago was bored. It started off by overheating the engine while Gayle and Katherine (AKA "The girls") were driving it. We were on a steep incline and I figured that is what pi$$ed off 'Bago. After calming 'Bago down we took off with the girls in front. It was then I noticed all the antifreeze on the ground. Into the radio Troy was yelling "Stop!" We parked the 'Bago on the side of the road climbed into the truck and took off for the nearest gas station in search of more anti freeze. Upon our return 45 minutes later we found a "toe tag" from the local constable hanging from the wiper blade informing us that he might be inclined to consider this and abandoned vehicle unless it was gone after he had his coffee and donuts. We topped off the fluids and off we went for 600 feet. Overheated again! After a quick Yosemite Sam meltdown Joe regained his composure and looked further into the problem. The Manly men found out the Girls had been using the AC (A little heat is bad, but childbirth is ok....it's no wonder they are misunderstood) and the AC belt had broke, which dislodged the belt running the water pump and radiator fan, thus stopping the mechanical inertia needed for a cool and happy engine. After an hour or so of light contemporary swearing,by Joe and not Troy. They had the proper components in place to once again cool the 'Bagos powerplant and off they cruised again only this time Joe and Troy (AKA "the manly men") had control of 'Bago while the Girls broke in the AC of the truck. 'Bago took notice of who had the reins now and did a pretty good job of behaving herself......for about another 3 hours. Seems we may have made her mad by switching fuel tanks on her when she wasn't ready and she protested by slowing down considerably while sputtering and coughing like a 5 pack a day smoker jonesing for that 1st puff in the morning, on the hills, and the flats, and the down hills along with the standing stills. We went back to the previous tank while 'Bago pondered her pay back. In the 3 hours of calm, 'Bago had hatched a plan. On the outskirts of the tired little hamlet of Hades...I mean Livingston, Montana, that had previously ripped us off for a tire (we later discovered hadn't been made for a couple years), 'Bago started acting up again. She started the show by losing power at short intervals and making us leave the realative safety of the interstate so she could go in cahoots with the sleepy unassuming little town that harbors one of the worst criminals known to man....tire dealers that prey on out of towners in distress.
After pulling into the parking lot of the Stafford animal shelter (The name alone sounds like a Stephen King novel) about 2030, 'Bago started to really show off her mean streak. She died right there. Now we aren't Nascar mechanics but we watched the movie "Cars" a time or two and were able to coax a few last breaths out of her. She in turn put Yosemite....er, Joe on Steroids who in turn produced a colorful tapestry of words which would make many a wordsmiths green with envy including, maybe, rumplestiltskin, uh, I mean his Dad. The manly men used a set of automotive defibulators (jumper cables) on her too many times to count. With each hit of 12 volts, 'Bago would come to life only to give up the ghost and roll toward the high beams of Heaven or Hell....we just don't know.
By this time it's 10:30 at night and the manly men figure out a possible scenario of what is going on. I'll try and explain. Earlier in the day when the Girls were aiding and abetting 'Bago in her AC belt blow out, the Ac belt also ran the altenator. Not realizing this (we will be watching "Cars" again to see how we could have missed this), they didn't try and replace that belt thus possibly creating their current prediciment.
With threats of serious bodily harm and possibly death, the wife of one of the manly men made clear with no guessing needed that she would not be sleeping in, or having anything to do with phsychobago. In typical mutinous fashion, she had rallied the troops behind her. I made the call to psychobagos owner and it was decided that psychobago would be abandoned there to be picked up at a later time to be arranged by him. At this point it is 11:00 and with 9 hours of driving ahead of us to Rupert, Idaho, we all piled into the truck and located the nearest truckstop to load up on caffeine.
With all that has happened, from the trials and tribulations to the Sturgis vending education we have yet to figure out how to pay for we are already planning for next year.....and a new blog.
We want to give a big thanks to everyone at Integrity Ford in Spearfish for making us feel at home, to all at Mulligan Trailer Sales for providing the catalyst for getting us over there and to Clint with Boss Hoss just because I'm sure (we gave him a lot of BBQ samples) he'll take care of me when I'm ready for a trike of my own. With the ONLY exception of Kenny of Sampson Motorcycle Products, everyone and I mean everyone we came in contact with on this adventure from the Spearfish locals to all the riders that tasted our fare and returned for more, thank you and we'll see you next year.