RR - "I hear them... I just don't understand what they're saying"
- From: CrashTestDummy <f.j.bradfordREMOVE@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Tue, 07 Aug 2007 04:07:14 GMT
"I hear them... I just don't understand what they're saying" -- John
"RahRah" Roberson on the voices in his head.
After work last Thursday I packed up the Dakota, slapped the wife
and kissed the kids and took off for Arkansas. At Texarkana I phoned
Jim (Cook) with the latest hourly update on my progress. I told him I
was stoppin' off for a quick taco (I hadn't eaten all day) but other
than that I was headed his way. (Turns out Mexican food isn't as
prevalent in Arkansas as it is in Texas, but that's another story).
Jim said he thought he'd finally managed to get ahead of me (in the
schedule) and just needed to jump in the shower.
Now, it's only about 90 miles from Texarkana to Smackover, but that
90 miles takes about 3 hours after dark, or 2 hours in daylight.
Fiffty-five mph back roads? Whoever heard of such? And 14 little
one-horse towns with 30 mph zones mixed in? Sheesh. But eventually I
pulled into Jim's at about 10 pm I think.
Beautiful Deb Cook was there to greet me, and charming as usual.
Jim was "almost ready" and packed more gear than I'd ever seen in my
life ;-p In his defense though, Jim was a Boy Scout and likes to be
prepared. According to my wife (whom I called when departing), we
pulled out of Jim's at about 11:15pm.
Unfortunately, just as there's no quick way to Jim's from
Texarkana, there's also no quick way to John Roberson's from
Smackover. We traveled deer-filled back roads through the river
bottoms of Arkansas, through more speed-trap "cities," and eventually
pulled up to John's place at about 3-something in the morning. The
early estimates (of arriving in NC early enough to catch Dudley before
he left) were pretty much shot at this point. And here's John Roberson
(whom I'd never met before) surrounded by bikes and gear in his front
yard, in the wee hours of the morning, telling me, "I hope that was a
damn good taco!" ;->
And so the saga begins...
After loading up John's stuff we head across the mighty Mississippi
with John at the wheel, me riding shotgun and Jim relaxing in the back
seat of his nice crewcab. The 10' trailer pulls like a dream, almost
unnoticeable. Going north we hit Memphis and I-40, take a right and
watch the sun come up out of the east.
Several Waffle Houses, blues tunes, and Blue Collar comedy skits
later -- all intermingled with great conversation and company -- we
pull into Brushy Mountain at about 7 pm I think. Scrape, Little John
and Keith are there to great us (RMD salute) when we arrive. And I
swear, the first thing Scrape says to me is, "I hope that was a damn
good taco!" And I see, not for the first time, how Jim has explained
our tardiness ;->
I gotta tell ya, John "RahRah" Roberson is one of the wildest, most
intriguing and yet unabashedly friendly fellows I've ever met. After
10 minutes it's like you've been friends forever. Definitely one of
the unexpected hi lights of the trip for me. He's one of those people
that's liable to say anything, but it's always honest and you know he
doesn't mean any offense. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you
needed it. I like those kind of folks.
Many of you are familiar with Jim already, but let me just
re-iterate that his generosity and concern knows no bounds. All Jim
worries about is that everyone has a good time. Everyone. And I
*greatly* appreciate his invitation and hospitality!
My wife asked who surprised me the most. The obvious answer was
RahRah, but since he doesn't post on RMD I guess that was to be
expected. But of RMDers, I suppose that Keith was most surprising.
Keith seems way too smart to share so many similar opinions as I, so
that kind of surprised me. I mean, when I read his posts and imagine a
Georgia southern boy, I wouldn't picture Keith. In person, he appears
much more sophisticated, helping to shatter that "dumb southerner
stereotype," I suspect. And yet... he's as "good ol' boy" as they
come. Hopefully I said that right?
Now Scrape and his son were almost just as I had imagined. I didn't
expect Scrape to have an anti-group-riding-fetish <g>, but other than
that they were just as expected -- two of the best folks you could
ever hope to meet. Little John is a very polite, very respectful kid
that was obviously well-raised. But more than that, he's naturally
curious and adapts to badgering splendidly! I really hope he had fun,
because youth like that can be invaluable to the sport. John's a
quick-learner and eager to socialize. Just a great kid. Scrape, on the
other hand... ;->
And forwarding to the next morning: John Arnett was just about as
expected also. A great guy with very interesting stories that he tells
in such a deadpan manner that even he seems surprised with each
re-telling. And I greatly admire his courage and strength. And Sue...
boy, that young lady is the greatest. Try as he might, Jim was only
humbled by her oral jousting skills. If there's "good ol' boys," then
surely Sue qualifies for the "good ol' gals" club. She's just as
comfortable sitting around a group of filthy, sweaty dirt bikers as I
imagine she'd be shopping for new clothes.
I was honored and grateful to meet all of these fine folks for a
weekend of fun in North Carolina. And I knew, as payment, I'd have to
come up with something unique. So I ran into a tree. Hard.
Stay tuned for Part II tomorrow evening....
Fred Bradford - CrashTestDummy
f.j.bradfordREMOVE@xxxxxxxxxxx
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