Saturday dawned bright and much too early. 11am. Yep; 11am. But the rest of the house wasn’t faring much better. Ok, Mike and Zig - and maybe K - were feeling fine (damn them all), but the rest of us girls were hurtin’ for certain and there was a lot of lounging on the sofa, eyes glazed and watching TV. We did manage to head out around 4 and get a bite to eat and choke a couple of beers down. From there, it was off to DC to check out some of the memorials.
(When we were walking around we saw this sign. Someone has a sense of humor!)
Sunday morning – we’d had a plan to be on the road by 8-ish, but we woke up with a hunger for a real breakfast (instead of the sandwich stuff we’d planned to bring with us and eat in the parking lot). So Zig and I shot to the food store and stocked up on eggs, bread, pancake mix, etc. and cooked up a good hearty start to the day.
The down side to this was that we didn’t arrive to the Pentagon until after 10:00…and by this time the main parking lot was filled to the brim. All bikes at this point were sent off to satellite parking areas, so we followed the directions administered by the multitude of detail personnel and finally managed to set our kickstands to the pavement by 10:30. They didn’t come up again until almost 3:00. A long time to sit in the hot sun in the middle of a parking lot. We made the most of it; did some walking around, checked out the sights and made some friends around us. At one point, we saw a trio of helicopters approaching (apparently this indicates someone important is in one of them and the other two are just decoys)…
Eventually we got word that our turn in the procession was approaching so we fired things up and took our position along the side roads which would lead us past the main lot and from there, out to central DC, proper.
Rounding the bend and rolling down into the city, we were greeted by hundreds, if not thousands of people lining the streets. Shouts of support, banners thanking us, hand slaps as we passed by, veterans saluting, etc. It evokes waves of emotions and when they hit you, chills run up and down your entire body. It’s an awesome feeling to be a part of something that carries so much meaning. To see veterans, some of them severely disabled, lining the streets to thank us, is truly humbling.
For me, the highlight of this event has always been the sight of the Marine at attention as we pass by. This incredible display of will and determination has stuck with me the since the first time I saw it, many years ago. This Marine stands at attention from the morning hours, until each and every motorcycle has passed. That’s hours and hours, in temps that were in the 80’s, and he’s wearing a black jacket! Truly amazing and awe inspiring.
From here, we rolled through some more streets and then back over the bridge headed for the outskirts. K snapped a few more pics as we rolled along;
Here was a touching flag, flown behind another rider’s bike. It's a picture of a soldier and along the bottom, it reads; "Bring My Brother Home".
At this point, we needed to get back to the house, as K was hosting a BBQ and we were running short on time. We made a break for an exit and rolled on the throttles, not stopping until we reached the food store near her house. Loading all the necessary BBQ requirements into any available packing space, we were off to the house.
Folks began arriving shortly after our return and the grilles were set into motion. We played some more pool, hung out on the deck, made some new friends and had a general all-around good time. One of their friends (Mark) was an authentic bagpiper and he broke out his pipes and played us a few tunes. How cool was that! (I love the pipes!)
Here’s a pic of him as he was getting started – It's tough to make him out, as the daylight was all but gone at this point.
Here are some clips of him playing. Again; no daylight = lousy picture (the glowing green thing in the bottom right was the pool). But you can hear the sound, and that’s what I was angling for. Ahhh, sweet melodies.
We partied until about midnight-thirty before calling it an evening. We had a long day ahead of us so it was (relatively) important that we get some sleep under our belts.
Monday morning, we were up and out the door in good time. Bikes were repacked, kickstands were raised and we turned onto the road which would eventually see us back to our own driveways…a mere 8 hours later. Traffic took it easy on us this time around, and we had no problems (which is always nice).
A big 'THANKS!' goes out to K for hosting us, and to E for helping shoulder the task of entertaining two really wonderful, funny, and handsome bikers from Boston. (Oh yeah; we're amazingly humble, too.)
This brings my Rolling Thunder XXI experience to a close. I recommend this trip to anyone that hasn’t done it before – the camaraderie, the emotions, the sheer importance of it – it’s truly inspirational.
I can’t wait to do it again.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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