317752's blog: "A Long Time Ago, In A Galaxy Far, Far Away"

I THOUGHT I WOULD SHARE ONE MORE TALE ABOUT MY DAYS RIDING WITH THE BANDITOS. THIS LITTLE EPISODE BEGAN ABOUT A YEAR OR SO AFTER MY INITIATION. IT DIDN'T TAKE ME VERY LONG TO GET A REPUTATION AS THE "DRUG-DOINGEST" BANDITO IN THE CLUBHOUSE. THERE WAS NO CHEMICAL THRILL I DID NOT SEEK, NO DRUG-INDUCED STUPOR I DID NOT PURSUE WITH TOTAL ABANDON. MIGHT EXPLAIN WHY I ONLY HAVE ABOUT 17 BRAIN CELLS LEFT.
ANYWAY, ONE OF THE WAYS THE CLUB, AND ALL CLUBS FOR THAT MATTER, SUPPORTED ITSELF WAS WITH CONTRABAND ............ DRUGS, GUNS, VEHICLES, WHATEVER WOULD SELL. BEING THAT I HAD A REAL "FEEL", SO TO SPEAK, FOR THE DRUG TRADE, I WAS QUICKLY "ASSIGNED" AS IT WERE, TO DRUG RUNNING. NOW LET ME SAY RIGHT HERE, I WAS A "MULE", NOTHING MORE. I DID NOT STAND OUTSIDE SCHOOLYARDS AND "HAWK MY WARES" OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. I MADE THE BUYS THAT SUPPLIED THE FOLKS THAT DID THAT SORT OF THING. I KNOW ITS NOT MUCH OF A DISTINCTION, BUT IT'S HOW I JUSTIFIED IT TO MYSELF. HEY !!!! I TOLD YOU, OUTLAW, REMEMBER??
THE "BASIC" RUN WAS TO HOUSTON, TX AND BACK, TWICE A WEEK. HOWEVER THIS PARTICULAR RUN WAS IN NO WAY "BASIC". NOT IN ROUTE OR QUANTITY. THIS RUN WAS SPECIAL. SOME OF MY DEALINGS WERE, OF COURSE, WITH OTHER CLUBS. AND FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW IT, THE HELL'S ANGELS HAVE A CHAPTER IN SAN ANTONIO, TX, OR AT LEAST DID AT THAT TIME. AND IT WAS A DEAL WITH THIS MOST INFAMOUS OF ALL CLUBS, FROM WHICH THIS STORY IS TAKEN.
SEE, THIS RUN INVOLVED AN EXCEPTIONALLY LARGE BUY, IF YOU CONSIDER $25 GRAND (IN 1971 DOLLARS) A LARGE BUY. NOW, I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT CARRYING THAT MUCH CASH INTO HARM'S WAY, SO TO SPEAK, MADE OL' HAWG A BIT ANXIOUS. A BIT ANXIOUS ??? HELL !!! IT MADE ME DOWNRIGHT PENSIVE. I MEAN, LOSING THE MONEY OR THE MERCHANDISE WOULD ALSO MEAN LOSING SOMETHING VERY NEAR AND DEAR TO ME ................ MY LIFE !!! AND I WAS ABOUT TO DEAL WITH THE KINGS OF THE OUTLAW CLUBS. THE "MISSION", AND I DID CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT, WAS SIMPLY TO RIDE TO SAN ANTONIO, MAKE THE BUY, THEN, GIVE THE MERCHANDISE SAFE TRANSPORT BACK TO THE CLUBHOUSE. EASY, RIGHT?? HARDLY !!!!
I HAVE TO ADMIT TO BEING SOMEWHAT APPREHENSIVE AS THE CLUB PRESIDENT, JOE CARDWELL, STUFFED ALL THAT CASH IN MY SADDLEBAGS. THEN HE LOOKED ME DEAD IN THE EYES AND SAID SOMETHING TO ME THAT I CAN STILL REMEMBER, VER BATIM. HIS IMMORTAL WORDS WERE, "THERE IS NO CAVE DEEP ENOUGH, NO JUNGLE DARK ENOUGH, NO MAGIC BLACK ENOUGH TO HIDE YOU FROM ME IF YOU FOUL (BEST "F" WORD SUBSTITUTE I COULD THINK OF) THIS UP." MAN, THAT SURE HELPED MY ANXIETY ABOUT THE WHOLE THING.
WELL, AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, THE TRIP STARTED OUT BADLY AND GOT WORSE FROM THERE. FIRST, I HAD A FLAT ON THE SCOOT NOT FIVE MILES OUT. THANK GOODNESS FOR "FIX-A-FLAT". YOU KNOW, THAT CANNED TIRE INFLATOR AND SEALER. YEAH, I KNOW IT RUINS THE TIRE, BUT JOE'S WORDS WERE STILL FRESH IN MY HEAD AND I WAS NOT ABOUT TO LEAVE THE SCOOT, OR THE CASH, TO GET THE TIRE FIXED. HELL, THOSE WORDS ARE STILL FRESH IN MY HEAD TODAY, SOME 36 YEARS LATER. IN FACT, I HAVE TO ADMIT TO HAVING USED THEM, IN ONE FORM OR ANOTHER, SEVERAL TIMES WITH MY SON. BUT I DIGRESS. ANYWAY, TIRE INFLATED AND ON THE ROAD, MY COOL BEGAN TO RETURN. THE OPEN ROAD AND THAT ONE AND ONLY HARLEY SOUND ALWAYS SEEMED TO HAVE THAT EFFECT ON ME.
THEN, JUST AS I BEGAN TO SETTLE INTO THE GROOVE (RIDERS WILL UNDERSTAND THAT PHRASE) THE SKY BEGAN TO CLOUD UP AND BEFORE I KNEW IT, IT WAS COMING DOWN IN SHEETS. I MEAN A REAL FROG STRANGLER. LET ME SAY HERE, THAT I WAS ON A SCHEDULE AND HAD ALREADY LOST VALUABLE TIME TO THE FLAT SO STOPPING JUST WASN'T IN THE CARDS. IT WAS PROBABLY THE ONLY TIME THAT I WAS HAPPY TO BE WEARING A HELMET. NOW NORMALLY, SUMMER RAINS IN THIS PART OF THE COUNTRY COME AND GO LIKE A $2 DOLLAR HOOKER, BUT NOT THIS TIME, OH NO !!!!! TWO HOURS LATER IT WAS STILL POURING AND FOR THE FIRST AND ONLY TIME I MIGHT ADD, I WAS MISERABLE IN THE SADDLE.
THEN, IN THE DISTANCE I SAW A CAR APPROACHING. IT WAS BOBBING AND WEAVING LIKE ALI WHEN HE WAS CASSIUS CLAY. I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, DAMN, WHAT ELSE??? WRONG QUESTION .......... SURE ENOUGH, AS WE BEGAN TO PASS EACH OTHER, THIS DRUNK SWERVED AGAIN AND I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO TAKE TO THE DITCH ............... THE RAINWATER FILLED DITCH. THE TIRES DISAPPEARED, THE SEAT DISAPPEARED, THE HANDLEBARS DISAPPEARED ....................
MY LEGS DISAPPEARED, THEN MY CHEST. WHEN THE WATER LINE HIT MY CHIN I JUST HAD TO LET GO AND TRY TO SWIM. THE BIKE, AND THE SADDLEBAGS HOLDING THE CASH, WERE GONE !!!!! SUBMERGED IN THE DARK, MURKY DITCH WATER AND MUD. FUNNY, BUT I BET YOU CAN GUESS WHAT I WAS THINKING RIGHT ABOUT THEN ...................... "NO CAVE DEEP ENOUGH, NO JUNGLE DARK ENOUGH, NO MAGIC BLACK ENOUGH." SURE, IT WASN'T MY FAULT, BUT AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, JOE WAS A "NO EXCUSES" KINDA GUY. AND HOW WAS I GONNA EXPLAIN THIS ONE ANYWAY?? HELL, I WAS HAVING TROUBLE BELIEVING IT HAPPENED AND I WAS THERE !!! THE ONLY COURSE OF ACTION LEFT TO ME NOW, WAS TO SIT ON THE ROADSIDE, WAIT FOR THE RAIN TO LET UP, THEN WAIT FOR THE DITCH WATER TO RECEED SO I COULD FIND THAT POOR, DROWNED MOTORCYCLE AND THE SADDLEBAGS THAT HELD MY VERY LIFE IN THEM. THEN ANOTHER HORRIBLE THOUGHT CROSSED MY MIND
WHAT IF THE CURRENT WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO DRAG THE BIKE ALONG WITH IT. THE NEXT TIME I SAW IT, IT MIGHT BE AS THEY PULLED IT OUT OF THE RIO GRANDE. YOU KNOW, THIS WAS A DEFINING MOMENT IN MY LIFE. IT WAS TIME TO TAKE ACTION, NOT JUST SIT AND WAIT. SO I DOVE OFF INTO THAT DARK, NASTY DITCH WATER AND BEGAN MY SEARCH FOR THE BIKE. I WAS ONLY ABOUT AN HOURS RIDE FROM SAN ANTONIO, SO IF I COULD JUST GET THOSE SADDLEBAGS, I COULD CONTINUE ON MY "QUEST". THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID "QUEST !!!" WE WERE WAY BEYOND A MISSION NOW AND I HAD BEGUN TO SEE THIS THING AS A TEST, ME AGAINST THE UNIVERSE.
THEN, WHAT I CAN STILL ONLY EXPLAIN AS "DIVINE INTERVENTION" TOOK OVER. FORTUNATELY, THE BIKE HAD SUNK IN THE MUD AND I FOUND IT QUICKLY. THE SADDLEBAGS WERE FLOATING OUT TO THE SIDES, MEANING THEY WERE HOLDING BOTH DRY CLOTHES AND DRY MONEY. NOW HAVING RESECURED MY LIFE, I NOTICED THE RAIN HAD FINALLY STOPPED. "HALLELLULAH !!!", I SAID TO MYSELF. THEN, THE FIRST VEHICLE TO COME ALONG, OF ALL THINGS, WAS A TOW TRUCK, OUT OF SAN ANTONIO. SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT "DIVINE INTERVENTION??"
THE DRIVER STOPPED AND BY THE TIME I TOLD HIM WHAT HAD HAPPENED, THE DITCH HAD DRAINED ENOUGH THAT THE HANDLEBARS WERE STICKING UP OUT OF THE WATER. HE PULLED MY HOG OUT AND TOOK US BOTH TO SAN ANTONIO. HE DROPPED US AT THE LOCAL HARLEY SHOP, AND BELIEVE IT OR NOT, IT IS CALLED DAVIDSON'S HARLEY, OR AT LEAST, IT WAS THEN. SOMEHOW, I TOOK A STRANGE COMFORT IN THAT. JUST MADE ME FEEL LIKE THEY WOULD REALLY KNOW WHAT THEY WERE DOING. SURE ENOUGH, THEY WERE GREAT !!!! HAD MY SCOOT OPERATIONAL IN ABOUT 2 HOURS. I WAS ELATED, UNTIL I REALIZED I WAS MORE THAN 5 HOURS LATE FOR MY "MEETING." I PAID THE MAN, MR. DAVIDSON HIMSELF, BY THE WAY, AND ROARED AWAY.
I FINALLY ARRIVED AT THEIR CLUBHOUSE SOME 6 HOURS LATE. CONSIDERING ALL THAT HAD HAPPENED, I THOUGHT I HAD DONE WELL. BUT IT WAS STILL A VERY TENSE MOMENT AS I PULLED UP TO THE HEAVILY REINFORCED AND GUARDED GATE OF THE COMPOUND. AFTER EXCHANGING PLEASANTRIES (PASSWORDS), THE GATE SLID ASIDE AND I RUMBLED IN. I WAS MET IN THE COMPOUND BY 3 OF THE ABSOLUTE SALTIEST DUDES I HAD EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. NOW, FOR THE RECORD, I FEAR NO MAN, BUT THAT CONVICTION WAS SERIOUSLY TESTED BY THIS TRIO.
"YOU'RE LATE !!!!!!" THE SALTIEST OF THE 3 GROWLED. SHOWING NO FEAR I GROWLED BACK, "I'M HERE, AIN'T I ??" "ARE WE GONNA DANCE, OR DO BUSINESS??" THEN HE SMILED, AND SAID, "I THINK WE'LL DANCE." “IN THE PIT", HE CONTINUED. NOW FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW IT, THE PIT WAS THE PLACE WHERE MANHOOD WAS TESTED. IT WAS BASICALLY A BARE KNUCKLES, ANYTHING GOES FIGHT, NOT NECESSARILY TO THE DEATH, BUT IT HAD HAPPENED. AND HERE I WAS, BEING CHALLENGED TO THE PIT BY WHOM I LATER FOUND OUT WAS THE CHAPTER PRESIDENT, ROBERT SHELTON. "LOOK", I SAID, AND I BEGAN TO RANT AND RAVE ABOUT MY EXPERIENCES ON THE TRIP DOWN, BASICALLY HAVING A "FLAPPIN-ARM" FIT.
ROBERT GOT TO LAUGHING SO HARD AT MY STORY, THAT HE SAID, "SOUNDS TO ME LIKE YOU BEEN IN THE PIT ALL DAY," "I THINK WE'LL JUST LET THIS ONE PASS." "NOW, LET'S DO SOME BUSINESS." WELL, AFTER HAVING A VERY LENGTHY SAMPLING SESSION OF THE PRODUCT (AND ONE OF THE HOUSE MAMAS) I LOADED UP MY MERCHANDISE AND BEGAN THE TREK BACK HOME. "DAMN", I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, "I SHOULD WRITE A BOOK."
OH YEAH, ONE INTERESTING LITTLE SIDEBAR TO THE STORY. DOES THE NAME "ROBERT SHELTON" MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?? HE WAS QUITE FAMOUS, OR SHOULD I SAY INFAMOUS. NO, NOT FOR ANYTHING HE DID AS A HELL'S ANGEL CHAPTER PRESIDENT. NOPE, ROBERT SHELTON WAS, JUST A YEAR OR TWO LATER, THE IMPERIAL DRAGON OF THE UNITED KLANS OF AMERICA. THAT'S RIGHT, THE HEAD TURD-KNOCKER OF THE KU KLUX KLAN. WHY, HE EVEN HAD AN INTERVIEW IN PLAYBOY. JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT TRUTH IS ALWAYS STRANGER THAN FICTION.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW IT, HAWG IS A MONIKER OF WHICH I AM VERY PROUD. I DID, IN FACT, SPEND NEARLY SEVEN YEARS OF MY LIFE RIDING WITH AN "OUTLAW" GANG. WHILE I CANNOT TELL YOU ABOUT A LOT OF MY EXPERIENCES AS AN "OUTLAW BIKER", (SOME CRIMES HAVE NO STATUTE OF LIMITATIONS) MY INITIATION IS QUITE A TALE NOW, HERE TOO, COMMON DECENCY (AND THE FEAR OF BEING NSFW’d) PREVENTS ME FROM TELLING YOU THE WHOLE STORY, BUT THERE IS ONE PARTICULAR ASPECT OF IT I BELIEVE YOU WILL ENJOY.
ONE OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR MEMBERSHIP WAS TO COMMIT A CRIME THAT WOULD CAUSE A FEDERAL WARRANT TO BE ISSUED FOR YOU. (THE OLD ONE HANG, WE ALL HANG ROUTINE) SOMETHING THAT CROSSED STATE LINES SO THE FBI WOULD BE CALLED IN. WELL, I COOKED UP A SCHEME TO STEAL A STATE TROOPER'S CAR AND DRIVE IT ACROSS A STATE LINE. NEEDLESS TO SAY, MY SPONSOR, AND THE CHARTER PRESIDENT THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST TOO FUNNY AND SANCTIONED THE DEED.
NOW, I MUST TELL YOU HERE, I DID HAVE AN "ACE IN THE HOLE", SO TO SPEAK. SEE, MY BROTHER WAS A STATE TROOPER, AND IF I COULD GET HIM TO GO ALONG, I COULD EAT MY CAKE AND HAVE IT TOO. I COULD GET INITIATED, AND NOT REALLY HAVE A FEDERAL WARRANT OUT FOR ME. WELL, AFTER MUCH DISCUSSION, AND A VERY LARGE PAYOFF, MY BROTHER AGREED TO HELP ME WITH MY PLAN. THE PLAN WAS SHEER GENIUS, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF. I WOULD BE CRUISING NEAR THE LA / TEX BORDER AND HE WOULD BE CRUISING THE SAME STRETCH OF ROAD. I WOULD COMMIT AN INFRACTION; HE WOULD STOP ME; I WOULD KNOCK HIM DOWN, JUMP IN THE CAR AND DRIVE AWAY. MY CLUB BROTHERS, (AND WITNESSES) WOULD THEN RETRIEVE MY SCOOT AND RETURN IT SAFELY TO THE CLUBHOUSE, WHILE ANOTHER CLUB BROTHER PICKED ME UP AT THE DESIGNATED SITE.
GREAT PLAN, HUH?? WELL, THE NIGHT CAME AND I PUT MY PLAN INTO ACTION. I WAS CRUISING THE SPECIFIED STRETCH OF ROAD WHEN I SPOTTED THE CRUISER IN FRONT OF ME. I GASSED THE HOG AND SHOT PAST HIM AT ABOUT 100 MILES PER. WELL, THE LIGHTS CAME ON, THE SIREN SOUNDED AND THE CHASE WAS ON. I RAN FOR A WHILE JUST TO MAKE IT LOOK GOOD, THEN PULLED OVER. I GOT OFF MY SCOOT AND STARTED WALKING TOWARD THE POLICE CRUISER, ALL COCKY AND BADASS. THE DOOR OPENED AND MY HEART STOPPED !! THE TROOPER WAS NOT MY BROTHER !! I HAD NEVER SEEN THIS GUY BEFORE.
NOW, THE THING YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER IS THAT THERE WERE THREE OF MY POTENTIAL CLUB BROTHERS, HIDING IN THE WEEDS, WATCHING ME. IF I DIDN'T GO THROUGH WITH IT, I WOULD BE DEAD BEFORE THE INK WAS DRY ON THE TICKET. SO I WALKED ON TO THE CRUISER AND WAITED MY CHANCE. MY HEART WAS RACING AND I WAS SWEATING LIKE A PROSTITUTE IN CHURCH, BUT I HAD NO CHOICE, I HAD TO GO THROUGH WITH IT. THEN, MY CHANCE CAME. THE TROOPER DROPPED HIS PEN. AS HE BENT OVER TO PICK IT UP, I KICKED HIM SQUARE IN THE HEAD AND HE WENT DOWN IN A LUMP. I JUMPED IN THE CRUISER AND SPED AWAY, MY HEART NOW POUNDING SO HARD I COULD HEAR IT IN MY EARS. I HAD DONE IT AND IT HAD BEEN WITNESSED. I WAS IN.......... BUT I WAS A FEDERAL FELON, AS WELL.
I CROSSED THE STATE LINE AND PULLED INTO THE REST AREA ON THE OTHER SIDE. MY CLUB BROTHER WAS WAITING THERE, JUST AS PLANNED AND WE KEPT TO THE BACKROADS GOING BACK TO THE CLUBHOUSE. I GOT A STRANGE SENSE OF COMFORT WHEN WE PULLED IN AT THE CLUBHOUSE AND I SAW MY SCOOT, SAFE AND SOUND, THERE. VERY LITTLE COMFORT THOUGH................. UNTIL I WENT INSIDE. I WAS "KING OF THE CLUBHOUSE" FOR THE NIGHT. WHAT IS "KING OF THE CLUBHOUSE", YOU ASK?? WELL LADIES, SUFFICE IT TO SAY, IF YOU WERE THERE THAT NIGHT, THEN WE KNOW EACH OTHER VERY, VERY WELL. AND GUYS, LET'S JUST SAY IT'S GOOD TO BE THE KING.
THE NIGHT'S DEBAUCHERY TURNED INTO THE NEXT DAY, HOWEVER, AND COLD HARD REALITY GRIPPED ME AGAIN. I HAD ASSAULTED A STATE TROOPER AND STOLEN HIS CAR. IT WAS NOT A HAPPY DAY. I LAID LOW FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS AT THE CLUBHOUSE, AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, THEN CABIN FEVER BEGAN TO SET IN. THAT, AND THE REALIZATION THAT I HAD BEEN SET UP BY MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD BROTHER. YEAH......... I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE REALIZED IT SOONER, BUT HEY, GIVE ME A BREAK HERE, I WAS ONLY 15 AT THE TIME AND YOU PUT YOURSELF IN THAT SITUATION AND LET'S SEE HOW CLEARLY YOU THINK. ANYWAY, I DECIDED TO COME OUT OF HIDING AND GO FIND THAT ^&$$#@*&@#$%^%$ BROTHER OF MINE.
I WENT TO HIS HOUSE AND WAITED DOWN THE BLOCK. I WAS SO MAD, IT IS A GOOD THING HE WASN'T HOME, CAUSE I TRULY BELIEVE I WOULD HAVE KILLED HIM. WHEN I SAW HIS CRUISER MAKE THE TURN ONTO THE STREET, I FIRED UP THE HOG AND MET HIM IN THE DRIVEWAY. HE GOT OUT OF HIS CAR L-H-A-O AT ME. "YES," HE SAID, "I DID SET YOU UP, BUT TOM, THE TROOPER YOU KICKED IN THE HEAD, WAS IN ON IT TOO." "BY THE WAY," HE CONTINUED, "TOM IS GONNA BE FINE." MY BROTHER SAID HE WAS JUST TRYING TO KEEP ME FROM GOING THROUGH WITH IT, AND THAT THIS WAS THE ONLY “PASS” I WAS EVER GOING TO GET. HE SAID HE THOUGHT THAT IF I SAW SOMEONE ELSE GET OUT OF THE CAR, I WOULDN'T GO THROUGH WITH IT, BUT AS I DID, IF THERE EVER WAS ANY TROUBLE, I WOULD BE HIS FIRST STOP. WELL, AS IT TURNED OUT, I FOOLED HIM AND THE CLUB, BECAUSE THERE WAS NO WARRANT OUT FOR MY ARREST, AND, I WAS A FULL-FLEDGED, COLORS BEARING, BANDITO, THE YOUNGEST EVER, TO THAT POINT ANYWAY. HARD TO BELIEVE IT’S BEEN NEARLY 37 YEARS SINCE THEN BECAUSE THE MEMORIES MAKE IT SEEM LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY.