I thought I would take a little different approach than the usual talking about motorcycles, per se.
Let's talk about bikers and how some of us spend our leisure time.
Anyone who knows me knows that my motto is "life is all about making memories, and hopefully you have more good ones than bad ones, because that's all you'll have to look back on when you're sitting in your rocking chair."
I'm very blessed to have some of the most awesome friends in the world. So when Pee Wee invited me to join him and his wife Dale and a few other friends on their annual trip to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, I jumped on it.
First off, you have to know something about Pee Wee: He's one of the best storytellers I know; he should be a standup comedian. His size and personality draw a crowd wherever he goes. The ladies love him and all want to get their picture taken with him. The guys are just in awe that they are talking to this larger-than-life tattooed biker, and he makes them feel as if they've known him forever.
The rest of the crew are celebrities in their own right. George and Trea are two of the best people you'll ever want to meet. Then there was Bill and his girlfriend from Minnesota, and Brad-Pee Wee's son-a chip off the old block.
With the crew established, the next move was to Cabo, one of the major resort capitals in Mexico and a damn gorgeous place as well. A short cab ride from the airport to the beautiful hotel resort we were staying at later, I was in my room-about 30 feet from the floating bar in the pool. Pee Wee was next door. George and Thea had the Presidential Suite overlooking the ocean on one side and the pool on the other.
We all did the pool and food thing, and then it was time for the boys to head down to check out some of the local talent. Let's just say we had a good time.
The next day we kicked it around the pool. Trea's girlfriend Morgan took scuba-diving lessons. I hooked up a fishing trip for some of us and hired a boat for early the next morning.
We got to the marina and checked into our boat, met our captain and crew, and headed out to sea. For those of you who don't know, you're only going to have a good day fishing if you have a great crew who are willing to go the extra mile to make sure you catch fish.
Our crew sucked. They let one of our marlin hookeyes go under the boat three times and get away. They also failed to hook up on a half-dozen other marlin. They ran out of bait by noon, and our day was done. Word of advice: Don't waste your money fishing in Cabo-it's a ripoff.
After a day of bad memories, I hoped that things would get better. Leave it to Pee Wee-who didn't go fishing with us-to come up with a solution. I know by experience that when Pee Wee says, "Trust me, bro," we're in for something good. I couldn't wait to hear it.
He said we were all getting on a bus in the morning and going to rent four-wheeled ATVs!
We all just stood there, looking at each other. "Trust me, we're going to have fun," Pee Wee said. We all figured, what did we have to lose?
So early the next morning we got on a bus and headed out to the middle of nowhere, or about an hour's ride from civilization. We arrived at a little shop at the top of a hill, surrounded by four-wheelers and not much else. We paid our fees and headed to the line of ATVs, chose our mounts, and fired them up.
They made the mistake of giving us a tour guide who spoke broken English. He tried in vain to give us safety instructions, handing us the "follow-him-at-all-times-and-stay-in-formation" speech. Brad and Trea did sand-kicking burnouts and wheelies all over, leaving our tour guide in a cloud of dirt. I knew right then and there that we were going to have the time of our lives.
We all had grins on our faces; we felt 13 years old again, and Marylou had come over to teach us a few things. It was on.
The next few hours consisted of total mayhem and barbaric acts that could only be duplicated in hell. It was a hardcore destruction derby, smashing into one another and seeing who could take the other guy out. I went head-on into a tree, thanks to Brad. Pee Wee said he never aughed so hard in all his life.
We took off across some private property and did a Pike's Peak run. Brad and Trea gave me a lesson on cornering with a sheer wall on one side and a 100-foot drop on the other. I think I saw the gates of Hell a couple of times. In the meantime, our guide looked as if he was having a heart attack, and every time we stopped he said, "You guys are going to get-" I never heard the last part of his speech, and neither did anyone else.
We rode down a hill, only to come across a long, beautiful stretch of open beach. Our eyes glazed over with boyish anticipation of what was to come. We didn't hear until later that we were supposed to stay off the beach; something about turtle eggs and you could go to jail for violating the sacred space.
Tourists from all over the world watched in utter disbelief at what they were witnessing, some of them with their cameras rolling and hands shaking, wishing they could be with us having the time of their lives.
All good things must come to an end-the day was growing late, and our own equipment was on its last legs. We headed over the hill for our long journey back to the rental yard.
Just then, George and I saw Brad come flying over the hill. Two of our crew had crashed into one another at full speed by accident. When we got to the scene of the wreck, Pee Wee had already cleared their airways, and they were both unconscious, face down, breathing dirty.
The safety crew had already shown up as if they had been on standby alert. Their version of a safety rig was an ATV with a wooden stretcher board tied to the back of it. We loaded Bill onto the four-wheeler and tied him on with bungee ords. His girlfriend, whose entire face was black and blue, rode in another rig.
Their ATVs were totaled out. The remaining crew looked at each other and said, "At least they're not dead," as we listened to the tour guide say, "I told you guys someone was going to get hurt."
Is that what he was trying to say? We never heard that part. We should have listened.Oh, well.
So in good ol' rude American fashion, we did a burnout one last time, covering him in dirt and sand, and headed back to see how much this was going to cost us. At the same time, the ambulance showed up and took two of the crew to the hospital.
Pee Wee, George, Trea, Brad, and myself were smiling from ear to ear. You don't put a price on pleasure. Let's see: two totaled ATVs, broken-off handlebars on Brad's rig, Pee Wee's fender hanging on by a thread, and the rest pretty much in the same shape. We all said, "Oh, this is going to cost us thousands."
When they came back and said everything would be around $1,800, Trea paid them. We got on the bus for a short ride back to the hotel. George got off the bus in Cabo to check on our friends, and the doctors let them out late that night.Bill and his girlfriend could hardly move; they made the long plane ride home the next day. Bill checked himself into the hospital, where the doctors told him he was lucky to be alive. He had several broken ribs and a punctured lung.
The good news is that Bill will be back again with us next year. I can't wait.
We'll probably have to go to a different rental yard......if they don't have wantedposters up for us.
Remember, life is all about making memories, and this was one of the best ever.Love and respect to the crew,-Mondo P.S. The next time you see Pee Wee, ask the storyteller to tell you about his summer vacation.