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Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Bentley's Saloon!!

I'd heard many good things about Bentley's from buddies that have gone before, but I'd never made it up myself.  Well, that all changed this year, as me and some of the guys headed up for a camping weekend.  That's right, Baby; motorcycle camping in October!


As it turns out, the weather blessed us with clear skies for the most part, and seasonable temps.  Well ok, not so seasonable; a cold front moved in on that Friday, plunging the temps far below what they had (or should have) been.  No matter!  We're fearless bikers!  We thumb our noses at the elements!  (Well, I did.  The other chose to sleep indoors, but no matter, we all had fun!)

The ride up on Friday was smooth and uneventful for me, Artie and Greg.  (Dan and Ed weren't able to make it up on Friday night with us, but did show up early on Saturday morning.)

Artie and Greg had reserved one of the "motel~ish" rooms on-site so we got them checked in and then I headed out back to the camping area.  I'd asked at the check-in office what areas were for tenting, and she'd marked a couple of areas on the map, saying "You're the only tent this weekend, so set up wherever you like."  Sweet!

Entering the camping area out back, I immediately took a liking to the site right near the entrance.  Flat land, a few trees, right on the road for easy access.  Nice!  They even had water and electric hookups, which seemed like overkill to me, but what the hell.  I'd heard great things about this place, and it sure was delivering!

I got the tent set up and soon Artie and Greg arrived, and we all marveled at my sweet home-sweet-home.

 
It was a bit early to start hitting the wobbly-pops, so we decided to go for a ride.  A quick check at the office on the best way to get to the ocean, and we were off.

Man, that didn't disappoint, either.  Talk about beautiful!!


The tide was on its way out and I didn't have to wait long at all before being able to climb on those rocks and check out the various tidal pools.  I love the ocean when the sun isn't blasting down on me!

From there, we rode around the coast a bit and checked out the ramshackle abodes along the water's edge (IE: mansions).  Man, some of these folks really live the lifestyle.

After a while, we hit the roadways and wound our way back to Bentley's.  Feeling strangely content, we still opted to hold off on the bar scene for a bit, and chose instead to head back out and see if we could find a Legion to belly up to.  We'd passed one on our way back, but hadn't gotten a real good look at it because it was off to our side as we'd banked a corner.

Well, it turns out we hadn't missed much...

A Friday night and nobody home.  WTH??
Well, there's gotta be others in the area, let's check Google.  Yep; sure enough; there's one in the next town over, and it should only take us about 20 minutes to get there.

Damn...
Another Post, buttoned up tight on a Friday night.  Man, business must be pretty bad around here!

Rather than wasting more time and gas, we scoured the Interwebs again and found two more Posts that were semi-within our area.  We tried calling them both, but nobody picked up.  Holy shite.  0 - 4 on the night.  Well, nothing much else to do but head back to Bentley's.  Our stomachs were more than ready for dinner...

And the drinks that come with it....


The main bar area is pretty big; kinda looks like a hunting cabin with all the exposed pine boards (which I love!), but that's about as far as the hunting lodge comparison goes.  Because this place has motorcycles hanging from the ceiling, amongst (what we estimated to be about) 400 bras.  Yay, bras on the ceiling!!

The band came out to do a sound check...that lasted for about an hour.  Which was entirely unnecessary because the place isn't that big.  Once they were happy with how things sounded, they dove right in to their first song.  It was ok, poppy country~ish, but whatever.  When in Rome.

After that song, they disappeared again.  Huh?  Ok, maybe musicians take a lot of breaks up here, I dunno.

After another hour long absence, they returned.  But this time they were all sporting tight jeans, fashion-forward shirts and fancy cowboy hats.  What happened to their comfy jeans, t-shirts, and baseball caps?  I guess they like dressing up and playing Cowboy for the crowd.  Bunch of posers.  And the music?  Egads, it was terrible.  The name of the band was "Good Question", and I envisioned them earning that name from someone walking up and asking "Are you guys for real"? and they answer' "Good Question".

Anyway, we had fun, the place got quite jammed up and the drinks were flowing well.  When the evening got long in the tooth, we decided we'd had enough for the day and settled up.  I said my goodbyes to Artie and Greg, hopped on the bike and rolled to the camping area out back.

When I got to where my tent was...er...had been...there was nothing but an entire row of campers.  Huh?  Am I in the wrong spot?  (I know I haven't had THAT much to drink...or have I??).  No, I'm pretty sure it was right....wait...am I in the right spot?  Yeah...I am...so where is my...

Setting my kickstand, I ambled between a couple of the campers to the open area with the fire and all the guys gathered round.  They looked at me inquisitively, and I at them.
"Did you guys happen to see a tent around here?"
     "Oh, that was yours?"
"It sure was...why isn't it here still?"
     "You set up in the wrong spot.  These are trailer spots."
"Huh...well, that would explain the water and electrical hookups."
     "But don't worry; we moved your stuff very carefully!  It's right over there..."

(Sure enough, they'd set me up in the actual camping spot about 20' further back, nice and neat, with everything just like I had it, even my camp chair.)

"Oh...ok, cool, thanks."
     "You want a beer?"
"Why yes, yes I do."

And that's how I wound up staying up another two hours past what I'd planned on, on Friday night.  (And it's also why I was hung over on Saturday morning.)

After breakfast, I hung out with Artie and Greg in their room for a bit (meaning; I napped for about 20 minutes).  My phone rings, it's Dan; he and Ed (and a couple of other guys) have arrived and are in the camping area.  Cool, let's go meet up!

We caught up with the crew, they'd found my tent and were deciding on where to set theirs up.  Dan was going to sleep in his monster trike (those who have seen it, will understand), and Ed was looking to pick a spot.  After discussion with Scott, the other guy who was going to tent with him, they decided to skip the tent and sleep inside; Ed would sleep on the floor of the camper that Artie and Greg had for the night, and Scott was going to sleep inside the van that Dan's uncle had driven up in.  So that left just lil' ol' me sleeping in the cold.  Oh well, less chance of me stumbling out and peeing on someone else's tent in the middle of the night.

We all got settled in, went out and did some riding (checked out the coast again), picked up some beer and firewood, and headed back to the site.  Cold beer and a hot campfire.  Afternoons don't get much better than that.  Well, except for the hail.  Yes, it was that cold; it actually hailed on us as we were gathered 'round the fire.   Did I mention that it was cold this weekend?

When the sounds wafting up from the Saloon, proper, began getting decently loud, we cleaned up and headed over.  Holy crap!  They really pack this place in!  They have huge parking areas, and it looked like every spot was already taken.  There were even vehicles parked on the grass, bikes tucked two-to-a-spot, etc.  The bar inside was beyond jammed, and the huge outside area was jamming, too.  Bands inside, bands outside, bars inside, bars outside, women inside, women...well...you get the idea.

Unlike the night before, we lasted until last call this night.  (I think we did, anyway?)  Artie, Ed and Greg got settled in to their camper thing and then I rode back to my tent.  Everyone else was out, so I tucked myself into my sleeping bag and welcomed the cool night air - great for sleeping, no matter how much your breath crystalizes from the plummeting temps.

Sunday morning, myself, Artie and Greg had to hit the highway early to get back for a meat raffle at the Post.  Ed and Dan headed out with us, while the other two guys opted to sleep in a little bit longer.

The ride home was also smooth and uneventful, and that was most welcome.  Nothing like going hard for two days and then having to deal with a bunch of nonsense traffic when you just want to get where you're going.

So there you have it; my first Bentley's excursion.  It sure as hell won't be my last, and I'm already looking ahead to making this an annual thing.

For those that haven't checked Bentley's out yet, I cannot recommend it enough.  For those that have gone before; when are we going again??

Ride Hard, Take Chances


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