Date: Tue, 25 Jun 1996 11:37:14 -0400 (EDT) Reply-To: buz+@cmu.edu Original-From: "Robert L. Armitage" Subject: RCR - V Trip Report. (LONG!) Friday 11:00 AM. Could no longer focus on work as RCR is scheduled to begin in one hour and I haven't even replaced the oil in Suzi in yet. Go home. 11:20 AM. Arrive home. park bike, right in front of my Dodge raider. (Mini sport-Ute similar to Suzuki Samuri) Go inside to change clothes. 11:30 am. Walk back out front walkway towards bike with funnel. Hear strange noise. Sounds like someone splintering a 2x4. Two by four FEET! 11:30 and 7 seconds. Watch dead tree at the end of my alley fall and squish my Dodge raider. Throw funnel at tree. Say "Oh Darn" roughly 14 times. Walk over to examine damage. Dented hood. Smashed drivers fender. Bent Bumper. Broken drivers turn sig. Smashed drivers rear view mirror. Headlight washer ripped off. Broken windshield. 11:40. Wonder if this is an omen about the forthcoming trip. 11:40 and three seconds. Decide if it was to be an omen, the bike would have been crushed. (or me!) 11:42. Go tell Mrs. what happened. Stand back to drink in the full effect of the hissy-fit. :-) Noon. Send her off to the local water-park with friends so I can get on with this. Call legal dept of city, forestry dept (ask them to my truck out of that mess) Start calling local junqueyards. (Quote of the day: What's a Raider?!) 8 pm. Dealt with as much as possible with Tree sitchooation. Oil is changed in Suzi, and bike is all packed and ready to rip. Hit the road. (figuratively!) 11:30~Midnite: Arrive at camp Wet-Mar. DAMN it gets dark out in the sticks! Slowed waaaaaay down once I got to the two lane roads. Sure enough, I see Bambi on MD Rt 77E. A gracious THANK YOU to Mr.Bill for the EXCELLENT directions. I found the place in total darkness! Upon arrival, strolled on up to the building with the most ligths on and found The Beer. (Oh yeah, there were Denizens there as well, I think!) Proceeded to overindulge early and often. The rest of the evening blurs....... Saturday 4:30 AM. Hear roosters crowing while chatting (slurring?) with Melinda. Decide that it may well be time to crash (again, figuratively!) Saturday 8:30 AM. My God, some fool is revving a motorcycle at thsi UnGodly hour! Wake up, feeling like an Elephant stepped on my head. Honest to Pete, I bought one of the Yuppie-bottles-of-water but was too loaded to find it at Oh-dark-early when I went to crawl into the sack. Deeply regetting the loss now. (Thunp-thump) Oh Hallyluyah!! Ian has more different kinda of Java than you can shake a stick at! Proceed to get breakfast from all of the important food groups. (Sugar, caffiene) I must admit, I have NEVER seen so many donuts without any cops around. As the groups gathered to discuss the days rides, I wobble out to Suzi to have a look at the wear & tear from the ride in. SOmehow , my front tire which was at the wear bars when I left, is now getting pretty darned shiney in places! (Oooooh looky! I can SEE myself! Ugh, I look hungover!) MrBill sez that there is a lovely bike shop just a few miles down the road. I watch the groups leave on the respectives rides (squid & covered bridges) and then take off for the bike shop. The shop REALLY is a nice one. They make no snide comments about how hungover I look and take Suzi in immediately for new front meat. I settle on a Dunlop F11 as it's the least expensive that doesn't say 'Ching Shit' on it. Time to take a walk around the area, and investigate the quality of the local McDs. Just the very odor makes my stomach do backflips so I get a big ole O.J. and settle back while the bike shop reshods my baby. Eventually, I see the shop mechanic roll my scoot out, climb on 'er and disappear! Zoom! (He was testing to be sure that the tire was properly mounted and balanced) I wish _I_ got paid for flogging other peoples bikes! When he got back , he complimented her on her sweet exhaust note. The crossover box under the engine is rotted and leaks, it makes for a 'unigue' exhaust note! I head back to the campsite, and jump in the pool. The 'deep' end is 5 feet. Nonetheless, it is way cool, and I am refreshed. After a brief dip in the pool, I head on back to the bunk house and grab a refreshing 15 minutes of sleep before Fred Sommer arrives and he and MrBill invade the Bunkhouse with Bad Intentions. Luckily, I am a very light sleeper, and foiled their despicable plot. (Quote of the day: After I scream, "MY PIPES ARE LOUDER'N YER PIPES!" to Fred.... "With a mouth like that, who needs loud pipes?" Thanks Fred! :-P Spent the next hour or so gawking at the INCREDIBLE variety of scoots at the RCR. Much bench-racing occured. Suddenly, the cry went out... THE FOOD LINE WAS OPEN!!! Hordes of hungry vultures dressed as Denizens swooped in out of nowhere, and surrounded the helpless llama... No wait, wrong RCR... After dinner, the award were handed out, strewn out, and much heckling happened. THen the beer flowed like beer and great lies were swapped. Many stories were told, each one getting beter each time it was told. After the mornings experience I was quite restrained with the liquid libations, figuring I HAD to ride tommorrow. I would like to know which wag decided that Muffy was thirsty, and promply fed her a beer... The following morning dawned MUCH less painfully, and a slow casual jaunt home was in order. SInce I had slabbed it in the whole way, I decided on a mellower trip home. I stopped at an old train/portage museum near altoona, and at Horseshoe curve just in time to catch several trians go by. All in all, a damned good time! I had plans to stop in Ebansburg and visit an old friend, but suzi had other plans. She dropped two cylinders just as I was about to hit the exit ramp, then promptly picked them righ back up as I pulled over. Since she was still running, I figgered I'd prolly better just run for it, and see if she'd drag me home. Of course, she never missed a beat after that. Now, on to Raider rebuilding.... I understand that if I inflate the cabin to 200 PSI it'll pop out any dents!!!! I can't wait to try it! -- Buz... Rob Armitage Carnegie Mellon University buz+@cmu.edu or: ra1d@andrew.cmu.edu or: ....!{ucbvax,harvard}!andrew.cmu.edu!ra1d+ "Diplomacy: The art of saying NICE DOGGY until you can find a rock."