Wednesday, Kevin and I had a great run out to Cobleskill – all except for a long frikkin’ string of traffic lights in Albany (we’ll definitely have to find a way around that city next year). Aside from that one setback, the ride out was relaxing and enjoyable. Great scenery and some long stretches of farmland are always welcomed by riders on a long haul.
We arrived at the motel in the afternoon, only to find that half of the NY crew had arrived earlier and secured the perimeter. Yep; our home base for the evening was ready to rock and roll! Kevin and I quickly shed our excess packings and shot off to grab beer for the coming festivities.
The rest of the afternoon was spent washing the road dust out of our throats and sharing plenty of laughs. A number of bottles that had been brought to enhance our weekend enjoyment wound up being sacrificed on this, our very first evening together. Oh well, it was the ‘Vous pre-party!
The night ran long, as they always do, and sometime around 3am, Kevin, Zig and myself looked around to find we were the only ones still standing. Wait, what time is it? 3am? Holy crap, we better get some sleep; we’ve got a long weekend ahead of us. As we walked into the hotel room, we exchanged nervous glances; 3 guys and only two beds. Hmmm…this is exactly the sort of thing that gets rumors started. (Zig offered to get his crash pad off his bike and sleep on the floor, and just like that; a crisis was averted.)
The next morning dawned bright and early. We strolled to the accompanying restaurant, shoved some fine fare down our gullets and were soon packed up and rolling through the winding beauty that is the Schenectady-area scenery. You don’t mind sitting at the occasional red light when you’re surrounded by the sights and smells of open farmland and fresh cut grasses!
All too soon we were rolling up the road that would lead us to the Vous entrance. Yep, only about another mile now and we’ll be…whoa, whoa, whoa…what the hell? The line is backed up this far? Already!?!?!? Oy! This could be a problem. Ok, those sitting atop four wheels assumed their rightful position at the end of the line while those of us on bikes continued our progress, passing the cars and campers sitting on the sides.
Our fingers crossed, we reached the traffic intersection and hung a right, eased around a few corners and came around to the straightaway where the entrance was. And hot dog! There was a staff member out in the road, waving us closer! Sweet! We’re back to ‘bikes first’ again! Yeah!! This is how things are supposed to be! This is how…wait…huh? Mr. Staff member, you’re waving us on PAST the entrance!?!?! Oh no, not again!!?!? This is an insult!! Why are there campers and 5th wheelers already inside??? Why are bikes being waved on by?! DAMMIT!!?! @&#$*%!?!?!?!
To make a long story short, yes; bikes were once again waved on by the entrance while campers were allowed in. What the Frig? We need to change the name from Harley Rendezvous, to Haul-A Campervous. Disgusting. But we made the best of things with our first jello shot @ 10am, and our first beer shortly thereafter.
As we were waiting in line, word came along that some bikes were now being allowed in. We sent Zig to check things out and made it in, but the rest of us were turned back when we tried. So, we made the best of things, enjoyed some road sodas, and once we’d moved up far enough to reach the Exit Row, we had Zig come down to the gate and meet us where we handed off as many tents and tarps as we had with us, so that he could get things set up and block off our space.
The sun was beating down on us pretty well for most of the time we were lined up on the road. There was one break, though. ‘Course, that one break consisted of a rolling thunderstorm which hammered us with precipitation. As I watched everyone else gearing up in their rain suits, I realized that transferring my rain gear over to Bub’s van (now miles away) to make room for more beer was not a prudent plan. I tried to find as much cover as I could under the underbrush along the side of the road, but it made no difference and I was quickly soaked. (I won’t make that mistake again!)
The only good thing about this entrance fiasco is that our chase vehicles made it into the site shortly after the bikes did, and we were all set up and partying while it was still light out (unlike years past, where the bikes are in early and then waiting until ~midnight or later for the cagers to show up with the food and beer).
Thursday night, the crew was settling in to the party mode at the campsite, jello shots were flying around like mini meteors, beers were disappearing as fast as our livers could handle them, and the beer pong/flip cup abomination was in full gear. Much later, when it was zero-dark-thirty, I packed up a sleeve of beer and headed off to find the vendors, in search of some items I’d seen mentioned on last year’s video. Specifically; some framed original invites to the first Rendezvous. Unfortunately, I didn’t find them, but I did find some sweet, vintage-styled Harley Davidson tins and I grabbed a couple. I did some more walking around the grounds, looking for anything that was open, but by this time, it was closing in on midnight and everything was closed up. (Hell, who am I kidding; it was still Thursday; half of the place didn’t even open until tomorrow.) Anyway, I made it back to the campsite only to find nobody around. Figuring everyone was sacked out, I stashed my tins on my bike and crawled into my tent to get some shuteye. (Only later the next day, did I find out that some of the crew had still been out partying, and I vowed I wouldn’t make the same mistake of going to bed too early, again!)
Friday morning broke early…but not for me. I didn’t finally wake up and come crawling out until almost 8:30. I guess the late nights were catching up with me (sucks getting old!) Fortunately, the cure was quick in the making; beer pong was soon up and running and all thoughts of hangovers were quickly washed away.
After we’d sufficiently seduced our sore brains back into oblivion, it was time to pack up some coolers and go check out the rodeo!
This is something that goes on every year and it’s a trip and a half to check out. They’d already finished some activities but here, we caught the start of the slow race. Pretty talented to keep your bike upright and within the lines all while going as slowly as possible.
This thing came rolling out at one point. Even the rodeo organizers had to stop what they were doing to check it out. It was one of those things that has 7 seats on it and everyone pedals. The guy in the back (in the left, in this pic) does the steering and you move around like that. Not too shabby (but it looked like far too much work for me).
Next; it was time for the tractor pull (they had both a trikes segment, and a bike segment). Most of the trikes looked like this…
But there was this one guy that had come up with some odd kind of creation. Check out the front setup on this thing!
At this point, we were treated with a group of skydivers that drop down several times over the course of the weekend.
The Tire Pull is always a big hit with the crowd. The ground was kinda damp and a lot of the bikes had trouble getting enough traction to really throw their tires around, but it still made for good fun.
We hung out for a couple more hours, watching things like the tire toss, figure-8 race, board race, etc. (Sorry, no pics of those) and then meandered along our way.
We headed back to the campsite, cooked up some grub and laid into the beer pong again. In between monster rounds of this madness, we’d sit at the table, munch on whatever junk food we could find, and basically just make fun of each other.
Here; Hurl does his level best to intimidate us while wearing nerd glasses. Nice try Hurl, we all know you’re too nice a guy to scare us. Besides, we’re too busy laughing at your shirt to pay much attention to anything else.
Poor Tim. He’s trying to quietly sip his beer and someone throws a baby wipe at him and it sticks in his glasses. Of course I had to take a pic.
More foolishness of this nature brought the afternoon to an end and it was once again time to pack up the coolers and head back up to the main stage and check out the bands playing that night.
At one point, I took a break from the music and went back to the vendors to once again see if I could find any of those framed Rendezvous invites, but no luck. Going back up to the band area, I wasn’t able to find anyone from camp, so I milled around until the bands ended, the beer taps were shut off and the lights were killed. I made my way down through the vendors one last time but by this time, they were closed up as well.
But as I was making my way out of the vendor area, I stumbled (literally) across the Handicapped Camping area. (It’s an area very close to the stages and vendor areas that is set aside for handicapped folks so they don’t have too far to walk to get to where the fun stuff is.) And who should I bump into, but a guy that I’d first run into, way back on my first trip out, 14 years ago. He actually remembered me, and more importantly; he was jamming on a banjo for anyone that would listen. Well hell, I had a few beers left and wasn’t going anywhere other than to bed, so I decided to hang out and enjoy the tunes. Vincent was his name and he played mostly his own stuff, but did toss out some covers once in a while. It was a cool way to wrap up the evening, and after about an hour (and after my last beer was gone) we shook hands and it was off to slumberland for me.
Saturday morning was a rough one. I had to sit in one of the reclining camp chairs for a bit and let my mind try and forget what I’d done to myself over the past couple of days. All around me, I could hear the tops of beer cans being opened as one after another of us succumbed to the call of the hair of the dog. I resisted for as long as I could, but when the call went out for beer pong, I had no choice but to crawl over and support my team once again. That first beer went down like crushed glass, but I powered through it and miraculously, the hangover slid into memory as each can was finished…
From here, it was back up to the Rodeo to watch this day’s offerings and hang out until more bands were playing. The sky was overcast which made things more comfy, standing out in the middle of a wide-open field…all until it started to rain.
Oh yeah; I did see this bike when we were walking about. I really liked the fluorescent orange! If a cager hits you on this thing, he sure as hell can’t claim he didn’t see you!
In between the Rodeo and the bands, we checked out a favorite activity of ours; the Hammerschlagen game. It’s a game of skill (and luck, in my case). You have a circle of people around a slab of tree. Everyone gets a nail and has to sink the nail into the wood in as few tries as possible. Sounds easy, right? Well the hard part is that the hammer you’re using is pointed. Yeah, not so easy now, is it tough guy?
Here, Flex takes a swing at things.
I’ve played this many times before, and even won once or twice. But never have I won two rounds in a row! Sweet! See that cash in the middle of the table? That was my winnings from one of the rounds! Double that, and you can see that I made out ok!
That was the good news. The bad news is that since I was now flush, I was responsible for picking up the next 30-rack of beer. Not a problem, I love to share!
We ambled our way back to the main field to check out the bands that were playing. Not long after we’d made our way back to the grass, the last group of skydivers made their drop. This is one of the cooler things of Saturday evening’s drop; the last guy to come in always suspends an enormous American Flag and I managed to get close enough to his LZ to get a decent shot of him coming in.
Here’s a shot over King’s shoulder, band playing in the distance.
At dusk they did the annual playing of Taps. This is a cool story, too (if I have it right); for years, a local guy had been coming out on his porch every evening at dusk and playing TAPS on his bugle. His neighbors loved it and word eventually reached the ‘Vous. They extended an invitation to him to play it on the main stage on Saturday night and he accepted. And he’s been invited back (and accepting) every year since then. (I didn’t get a pic of this, unfortunately.)
When the last band wrapped up, it was time for the official ‘closing ceremony’; fireworks!! I took a bunch of pics, but due to either the darkness, or the fact that my blood alcohol content was running near 100%, they all came out blurry. Here’s the two best ones…
Figuring that was it for the evening, we headed back en mass to the camp site. Only when we got back to the site and found some of the crew playing a new (solo!) version of beer pong/flip cup did we realize we still had plenty of life left in us. We played a couple more rounds and then packed up the coolers and did another walkabout of the campgrounds, enjoying beers with anyone that was still up. We eventually found one last large group of revelers and we hung with them until…well…not sure what time it was, but it was dark out. They had jello shots left over, but after doing my part to knock out the ~450 that I’d brought with us, my system had had enough. (Whoever says “There’s always room for Jello” has never been to the ‘Vous.) When the beers were running low and our mobility was seriously in question, we headed back to our home away from home and turned in.
Sunday morning is usually a Get-up-ASAP-and-get-the-site-packed-up-so-we-can-hit-the-highways kind of morning. Not this year, though. This year, we all just kinda took our time getting things cleaned up and packed into/onto the vehicles. And you know what? It was kinda nice for a change. We’ll have to think about doing that again next year. No rush, no craziness, no struggling with hangovers while trying to tie stuff down so it doesn’t come loose halfway home.
When everything was finally packed and we’d made the rounds to say goodbye, we fired things up and rolled out onto Exit Row, eventually passing through the gate and back onto paved paths that would lead us back to civilization.
A bit of rain chased us out of Schenectady, but we managed to outrun it and enjoyed bright skies for the rest of the way home. Hell, we didn’t even lose anything along the way, there were no breakdowns, and no one passed out (completely) on the highway. That has to be chalked up as a good thing.
And just like that, another successful Rendezvous was in the books. Now we just have 360 some-odd days until we get to do it all over again. Can’t wait. In the meantime;
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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