Fish Fry! Part 1 of 2 Invasion of the Old People!

Part 1 of 2 Invasion of the Old People 

Brad and I have very few rules while underway on our motorcycle adventures.  We agree upon a general direction.  I take the role of navigator.  Brad has the ideas to keep us moving and not sitting idle too often.   It works well.  Breakfast.  Breakfast is an unspoken rule.  We do not eat breakfast before a long ride.  We ride long to breakfast but we don’t eat and ride long.  Why? Why because Brad will fall asleep.  Yes, he falls asleep or zones out on the motorcycle.  One of the first instances was riding through the Wind River Range in Wyoming.  The road was smooth.  Temperatures warm.  Sun glistening off the river that meandered along the road.  Beautiful part of the country.  I am taking in the views, learning around the curves, enjoying an awesome morning ride.  Brad is right behind me in my side view mirror.  We stop at a diner and I ask about how his eyes and glasses adjusted in the tunnels.  He replied, “what tunnel?” There were tunnels!  I asked if he saw the slow moving train riding along with us as we went through a tunnel?  Brad replied, “what train?”  I was puzzled, I watched his headlamp in my side view mirror.  He was behind me on the same route at the same time.  How could he miss these scenes?  He was sleeping! Zoned out!  Brad admitted it happens quite a bit when we ride together after breakfast.  So no more breakfast before long rides!

Oh, the fish fry.  Brad is a creature of habit.  He enjoys a good fish fry once a week.  While on the road we uphold his desire for a fish fry.  So we ask for recommendations for a fish fry from anyone we speak with.  Brad learns of two promising locations.  The American Legion and a bar called The Rock.  We stop by the American Legion and learned that their fish fry was later in the week or is cancelled for some reason.  We get directions to The Rock.  I remember most of the directions and put on my navigator helmet and we ride on a recon mission finding the location of the fish fry.  I check the map, estimate the mileage and we ride down the road.  As we get close to where I think the place should be, I see many side roads are gravel.  I have to slow down to negotiate a gravel turn from fast. I see the turn but the sign read something about a Golf Course.  I was looking for a bar, The Rock.  I slowed to be ready to turn when around the curve there was a bar on the opposite side of the road. I turned in to check the phone map.  We were at Rocky Top Sports Bar and Grill. It wasn’t the place we were looking for.  We decided to go inside anyway.  The bartender was just opening up but wasn’t ready to serve anyone.  We declared that we just wanted iced tea and refuge from the heat.  So she allowed us to sit at the bar and gave us some iced tea.  She returned to prepare the bar for customers.  Once she is finished, she assumes her position behind the bar, tops off our iced tea and participates in small talk with us.  We learn there is a place called the Rock Bar and Grill at the Golf Course.  So her information confirmed that we know where to turn when we return for the scheduled fish fry.  

Brad and I finished up our drinks and was about to leave the bar.  Several customers one after another begin to enter the back door.  It was like a bus just parked and customers were in single file line exiting the bus and into the bar.  The first few folks were just a little older than us.  They sat at the right side of the U-shaped bar.  Some other folks sat on the left side of the bar.  Brad and I were at the bottom of the U-shape and closer to the left side.  We chat with both groups.  Everyone seemed friendly.  There was a group of women hosting an out of town guest. They stopped in Rocky Top before heading off to visit a winery.  Not sure what the folks at the other end of the bar were doing.  A man, a little older than Brad and I, was buying beer for his group.  That group was not responsive to small talk.  Brad and I decided to close out our ice tea tab when the door opened again and a line of silver haired old folks walk through the door.  They might have been twenty years or more older than us.  Their silver hair was kept neatly.  All walked in with purpose.  Their presence was known. Their eyes had lasers burning holes in my and Brad’s head.  Three sets of laser eyes were fixed upon our heads as the group walked the length of the right end of the bar.  The unwelcoming group turned walking towards us.  Their eyes fixed and burning holes in us.  They turn and find tables behind us.  Despite the laser eyes burning holes in my head, I felt a chill.  What had happened?  Curiosity caused us to ask the bartender who was busy serving another round to the wine tour crowd.  The bartender told us to pay them never mind.  She said the ladies are regulars and we are sitting in their seats.  Whoa!  With those looks we didn’t want them behind us.  So we finished cashing out and left.  This place was for locals and some didn’t like tourist sitting in their seats! 

Hailing Port Quantico spotted in Lake of the Ozarks! Part 2 of 2

 Part 2 of 2 The Yellow Brick Road

From last week, Brad and I are at Tap and Grill Lakeside Brew Haus talking to the bartender. We noticed the fit young woman in the pool with an older couple.  They are about to join us at the bar…

After our second iced tea, the trio from the pool joined us at the bar. The older woman introduced herself and her husband. The young woman was on the heels of the older woman and inserted herself too. I think she was from Indiana or somewhere in that general area. The more the young woman spoke, the more we realized she had a couple of drinks too. She was entertaining with her knowledge of the government, listening to our phones.  She declared the Faraday cases were essential to public privacy.  This woman was a hoot!  Although off duty, she was making sure everyone had fresh drinks.  I think she almost had a stroke when Brad told her we were drinking iced teas.  I saved her from an ER visit by convincing her our drinks were Long Island Iced Teas.  My white lie worked, and the woman refocused on the older woman’s drink.  By this time, we had three voices at once.  The man was talking about his boat.  The wife was asking Brad questions about our travels.  The young woman had just informed me about how the government is listening and watching.  I couldn’t resist telling her about George Orwell and 1984!  With all the voices filling the space, I heard the older woman say loudly, “Get that thing out of my face!” That got my attention.  It was a straw.  The young woman was insisting that the older woman try her mixed drink.  Perhaps the older lady released a little frustration that was building from their time in the pool? Who knows. The bartender made things right and called his other roommates to give the woman a ride home. 

The man from the pool owned the boat that hailed from Quantico!  He said he used to work on Quantico and he decided to designate that his boat came from Quantico.  He told us stories from when he worked with the FBI and Marines at Quantico.  Brad and I only spoke about our motorcycle adventures over the years.  Consider that Brad and I met while training at Quantico maybe twenty-three years prior; this guy’s stories were getting our close attention.  One story of particular interest is when this guy worked with the FBI and trained with the Marines on the “Yellow Brick Road.”  He proudly stated that he completed the grueling course through the woods with the Marines.  At the end, a Marine dug up a yellow brick and presented it to him.  Brad and I ran the course through the woods.  So we are looking at each other like this guy’s details make his story less credible.    

Brad breaks the news.  He tells the man that we have been to Quantico and that I spent the most time there, so I knew the area very well.  The man couldn’t answer the basic questions about the surrounding area despite declaring that he lived just outside the gate for a few years.  We kinda sorta agreed that the area has grown since he was there.  This man didn’t know the names of the surrounding towns.  So who knows?  Perhaps he was focused on academics and didn’t venture out too far.  The details that a Marine dug up a yellow brick and presented it to this guy as a finisher didn’t sound correct.  There is no real yellow brick road as he described with detail.  There are rocks on the course that are painted yellow to guide runners through the woods.  The FBI National Academy has leadership and management classes for employees.  It does award freshly painted yellow brick mementos to student finishers who elect to run the physical course, but they don’t dig anything up!