The PNWNS gathering at the Alki Tavern was contravened by the worst weather we've had since the end of last winter. Last minute problems and health kept a couple guys out and in the end, it was me, Jordan, Heekster, and Madman who were sucking up brews and swapping lies. It was decided that between the weather and our light turnout, the Slug Run would be postponed. None the less, it was a fine time yakking it up over beers, Madman got his dash console from Heek and was mighty happy at that, and overall, it was a good time had. 

The following morning I was grousing around the house wishing I was on my way to Pendleton and cursing the weather. I'd already taken a day off work and I didn't have a plan B for a failed Slug Run. I finally said screwit, put the T-bag on the bike along with essentials needed for nasty weather riding, gave my bride a cya-bye kiss, and headed off east on I-90 to Snoqualmie Pass. It was light drizzle most of the way but the temperature was easily tolerable. It being a work day for most folks, the traffic was more business-like than what one would encounter on a weekend. The result of that was, everyone was on pretty good behavior. 

I stopped at the summit to buy a cappuccino and doughnut and yakked it up with a couple Goldwinger's heading the other way. They reported the weather off to the east was actually very dry and sunny with temps in the high 60's. Now this was sounding better already. Feeling the kick from the cappuccino and the good news about the weather I pushed on. About 30 miles later I had to get rid of the coffee so pulled into a rest stop at the eastern edge of the summit area. What happened from here on was most unusual. Standing at the urinal next to me was none other than Billy Gibbons from ZZ Top. We completed our business about the same time and got to the parking lot side by side, exchanging a couple words. 

He stopped to check out my bike and said he too liked to get out onto the pavement when time permitted. He invited me to take a look at his ride but on looking around all I saw was a hotel-sized 5-th wheel pulled by a 3/4 sized diesel tractor. He walked over to the back of it and hit a button. The entire back end opened up like a clam on edge and a wide ramp popped out of the flooring and settled onto the ground. Inside were *5* immaculate Harley customs like I've never seen. He pulled one out - a bright red and yellow beauty, pulled out some leather and grabbed a helmet and while he was suiting up asked "How far you going?" 

I explained that I, as the sole functioning member of the PNWNS (explanation was given) Slug Run, was on my way to the Blue Mountains in Oregon and he about shit his britches. He was meeting with the rest of the band in Pendleton and said he'd be pleased to ride along. "Shit yeah!", I said. Then he pulled out a cell phone and made a short call and off we went and I'm thinking that this is just too far f*cking out and it can't get too much cooler than this -- little did I know. 

We rolled into Ellensburg under a bright blue sky - a look off to the west showed the nasty weather from the previous day was snagged on the western slopes of the Cascades and looked to be sliding north and east and out of the area. Billy, in the lead, pulled off at the first E-Burg off ramp and headed south like he was on a mission. He waved for me to follow and after 5 or so miles we turned up a road that wound about another 1/4 mile to a weathered ranch house. This time it was my turn to crap my pants -- out of the door stepped Frank Beard (The ZZ Top guy without a beard) and he's carrying a couple drum sticks. This whole building is nearly all sound stage! Frank was laying down the drum tracks to a new ZZ Top tune they were working on. About this time the Harley garage on wheels pulled up out front so Frank grabbed his coat, hit a big red breaker button that shut off everything but one overhead light and we all headed out the door. 

Frank climbed into the tractor cab, Billy and I got onto our bikes and we turned north back to I-90. We veered south at I-82 and set up a steady speed of 70 mph. About 45 minutes later we were joined by a couple more H-D riders, and again, the bikes were showpieces. I didn't recognize either of the newcomers but at the gas stop in Yakima Billy introduced me to Pat Simmons from the Doobie Brothers band. It turns out, Pat hails from Aberdeen, WA (same place as Kurt Cobain), and still spends a lot of his time here. The second biker was a mutual friend of theirs who, as I recall, built custom guitars. I know him only as Woody - I didn't catch his last name. It being hungry out, Woody suggested we get lunch at a good Mexican restaurant he knew of in Yakima so off we go. Sitting in a MexTex taco bar with this crowd is cool, but nobody in the place knows who they are. It's like, I have this big secret and I can't yell "you freaking people! This is ZZ Top and Doobie Bros. sitting here!". Instead I slurped up a chalupa and XX beer and wished the rest of the PNWNS was here to see this shit happening. 

Back on the road after gassing up (Billy had to borrow a couple bux to fill his ride - he owes me!), Pat takes the lead, then me, then Woody, then Billy. We're riding staggered and these guys know the drill. Hand signals, lane changing in-line, pointing and laughing just like people. We crossed the Washington/Oregon border at the Columbia river in Umatilla and rode the rest of the way to Pendleton still holding a steady 70 mph. Pat and Woody took the 395 highway south while Billy and I pulled into Pendleton. I had to stop here to make some phone calls and try to reach Chuck Lanter and Billy said he was going on to La Grande and said "They gotta couple nice girls down there uhow how how how". I busted my gut and reminded him that was in La Grange, not La Grande. 

At that point, just like that movie where a blacked out truck chases a guy all over the place, the motor hotel/garage pulled into the parking lot (Billy spends a lot of time on the cell phone, I decided), the back opened up, Billy rode the red and yellow wet dream inside and tied it down. 

I thanked him for his company and for introducing me to Pat, Woody, and Frank, he then thanked me for letting him be a part of the Slug Run. We shook hands and said the usual cya later stuff. He climbed into the cab, hopped into the driver's seat, waved, and off they went. It was like a dream had just ended. 

So, PNW NetScum, how'd ya like what you missed? Don't fret, I made the whole thing up - all of it. I never left home. I developed a case of diarrhea and stayed close to the bathroom all day. But it did sound like a good ride, didn't it? 

dp - ducking and running like hell...