Truck Dead Got a Bicycle

 

There I am at the Tennessee Motorcycles & Music Revival (TMMR) at about 2 o’clock in the morning.  I am awakened in my slumber by a pull-behind RV backing into the campsite next to me.  I am nice and comfy in my hammock.  The hammock is hung off the back of my jeep at a 45-degree angle and partially in the path of the reversing camper trailer.  I see the red tail lights getting closer to me.  The trailer safely halts several feet from me and moves forward.  I am grateful the driver has some good backing skills and sees my hammock in the darkness.  The driver readjusts his reverse approach and positions his trainer with plenty of space between us.  I feel safe and it turns out there is plenty of room for his dirt bikes to be lined up between his camper and my Jeep.  

I admit I was a little bummed having someone camping next to me.  After all, when I am not motorcycling, I am camping somewhere remote and usually alone.  The crisp night air was pitch black.  I had to pee, so I exited my hammock and made my way to the nearest porta-john. I pass two figures in the darkness and proclaim “welcome” as I walked swiftly to the porta-john.  I was happy that our figures were outlined in the darkness and it was too dark to make eye contact.  I was on the verge of doing the pee-pee dance and was avoiding conversation.  I take care of watering the horse and return to my comfy hammock in hopes to get some sleep before sunrise. 

Less than an hour passes, and I need to pee again! It must be an old man symptom. I tried to ignore the urge to pee and go back to sleep.  That didn’t work.  I had to go!  I know my new neighbors had recently finished setting up their trailer.  I hurried down the familiar route to the porta-john. I pulled on the porta-john door while simultaneously getting the urge to do the pee-pee dance.  The door to the porta-john wouldn’t open.  I was confused.  There were not many tents in this area.  It was around 4 o’clock in the morning.  The late-night parties had stopped hours ago.  I thought to myself, could there really be someone else using this porta-john? I think I have been the only person using this particular facility for the last three days.  Could the door be stuck?  So I lightly tapped my finger three times on the plastic door.  Tap, Tap, Tap.  I heard a response echoing my same soft tap and rhythm. Tap, tap, Tap.  It confirmed to me that someone was inside. I quickly turned and made a beeline directly to the next closest porta-john as I could not wait. 

The next closest porta-john was less than a minute of walking fast.  It wasn’t a big deal - just me running around in the dark.  I returned to the shelter of my hammock to get some sleep.  As I lay relaxing, I heard a soft female voice in the darkness.  The voice confirmed she was my new neighbor and wanted to apologize for arriving in the middle of the night, making noise.  She shared that she and her husband had been traveling from Ohio when their truck broke down.  So they purchased a new truck to make the journey.  I learned my new friends were named Jo and Jason.  Jason went to sleep after the long day and drive.  Jo and I shared stories while watching the moon set and the sun rise. We moved from my hammock area and drank our morning coffee while sitting in the river, watching the sunrise.  Jason joined us shortly after sunrise then continued setting up there camp.

This couple made a major purchase of a brand-new truck to complete their journey to TMMR.  It was that important to them to attend.  Jo and Jason are small business owners and work hard all year long, so this event was a true revival for them.  Jo posted her and Jason’s truck broke down story on the social media app Instagram.  The TMMR officials learned about their story of determination to attend the revival despite their truck breaking down.  The TMMR officials text messaged Jo and wanted to meet her.  Jo and Jason returned from the meeting and were excited to report that the staff was to honor them during opening ceremonies on the main stage for the bands.  Jason was preparing what to say during the ceremony.

On the evening of the ceremony, Brad and I arrived early to get close to the stage.  Each evening, the Pledge of Allegiance and the National Anthem were played before the bands performed.  This was a neat experience to feel the positive patriotic energy of the performers and of the crowd.  Jo and Jason were introduced by Loretta Lynn’s daughter or granddaughter. She spoke a little about Jo and Jason.  She was holding the microphone in front of Jason so he could tell his story.  Jason took hold of the microphone and began walking around the stage as he told his story.  I could tell that the organizers didn’t plan on that.  Maybe they were trying to keep to a schedule, and Jason was going to keep talking!  I had a flash of amusement as I thought the organizer was discretely trying to take the microphone back from Jason.  The story was told.  It was then announced that TMMR sponsor, Budweiser, had a gift for Jo and Jason.  The gift could help out if their truck broke down again.  Brad immediately thought Budweiser was donating a pickup truck to them.  As the spotlight moved to the side of the stage, a red and white Budweiser-themed bicycle rolled out.  Jo and Jason were presented with a Budweiser beach cruiser-type bicycle.  Cool gift!

Aqua Banjo Man

There we are, under two blue pop-up shelters that are usually seen around the fields at youth sporting events.  It is a dark and chilly night.  We were sharing stories with Kevin and Donna’s family when rain began to fall in sheets. Water was pouring off the edges of the pop-up shelters and splashing the backs of people seated in their camp chairs.  People stood and scooted their chairs towards the center to escape the range of the splashing cold rain.  Then, all the lights went out in the campground.  Kevin turned on his generator, which turned on the outdoor lights strung under the canopy of his two pop-up shelters.  The camping area immediately around us was pitch black.  The only lights were the lights under the shelter we were in.

There are about 8 of us under the two shelters.  We were engaged in stories, resulting in smiles and laughs as we shared some drinks.  Kevin and Donna shared some unique and awesome experiences raising a family abroad.  All their children are now adults and have impressive accomplishments.  Brad and I were telling stories from our Nowhere Rides.  

As the rain began to fall in sheets, a man and woman came running from the darkness.  The man had a banjo on his back.  The woman had dreadlocked hair that hung to her waist.  Their energy screamed minimalist, carefree nomads.  They asked if they could seek shelter from the rain under the canopy.  The couple stated they were on their way back to their tent when the heavy rain hit.  Brad offered the man with the banjo a can of beer.  The man gladly accepted the beer.  Instead of opening the beer, the man immediately placed the beer in his back pocket.  Yes, he hurriedly slid the beer can in his back pocket! I saw the man’s eyes light up when he spotted the bottle of bourbon on the table.  He asked if he could have a shot of bourbon.  I grabbed the bottle and a disposable shot glass and poured a shot for him.  He took the cup from my hand and poured the shot down his throat in one quick, fluid motion.  He obviously had experience with this motion of drinking shots. Without voicing any words, the guy smiled and then showed me the empty cup.  It was as if he was silently asking for another second shot.  After the second shot was gone, he silently held the empty cup to me.  He was asking for another.  Three shots of good bourbon in a row!  I usually sip and enjoy good bourbon.   

After the third shot of bourbon, the man started playing his banjo.  The group under the canopy gave attention to the first couple of songs.  Then we returned to their conversations, which were previously interrupted by these two carefree nomads.  I spoke with the banjo player’s girlfriend.  I learned that the man plays with one of the bands playing on stage at the rally.  As conversations continued, I heard the banjo player singing a chorus over and over.  The tuned words chanted something like this: “Would you pour me some more bourbon, please? I know you want to. I want you to.  Pour me a little more bourbon, please.”  He sang these words a few times as I saw his girlfriend smiling ear to ear at my discovery of the chorus.  I obliged and poured a shot. I extending the shot to the banjo player.  One fluid motion, and it was gone, the cup returned and extended towards me for another.  I poured another.  He extended the empty cup to me again.  I grimaced.  He spoke this time.  He told me this one was for his girlfriend.  Well, okay, I poured another shot, acknowledging this girlfriend on the opposite side of the shelter. The banjo man quickly drank it and formed a big smile.  Moments later, he thanked us for the hospitality.  He and his girlfriend departed the shelter, running into the rain and darkness.  Brad snapped this picture of us.  He said I reluctantly poured the bourbon.  The rain-soaked banjo bourbon drinker will be forever known to us as the Aqua Banjo Man.  This banjo-strapped stranger appeared from the dark rain.  Pocketed our beer.  Drank our bourbon.  Shared some songs.  Drank more bourbon.  Disappeared into the dark rain shower.  Cheers to you, Aqua Banjo Man, and your girlfriend.