bungrot's blog: "Motorsport Debauchery"

This weekend was our annual scooter rally, which means a ton of riding, many beers, and a sore back and taint for a week. I'm sure all you prison bitches can relate. Friday night we had a ghetto ass ride in Oakland (AKA "the hood"). We did the same ride a few years back and my buddy John dumped his 1968 Lambretta. He said he saw a dead body and it freaked him. Turned out it was a bag of garbage, but in Oakland, I'm sure it could have been a body. This year we had no such mishap. What we did have was a fucking freezing ride home at 2AM. Temp dropped to high 30s. My hand was stuck on the throttle in a sort of C-shape, like when I beat off too much. Of course the throttle was much smaller in diameter. It was so cold that I thought of just sticking my face against the engine while it was running.

Saturday morning we met early and prepared for the Iron Butt ride - 125 Miles of canyons and hills and mountains. I'm sure you motorcyle riders don't think that is much, but those little 2 stroke motors at RPM feel like a 10HP vibrator hooked up to a Sears Die Hard car battery. We bombed the Oakland hills with a full view of the bay and San Francisco, including all 4 north bay bridges (Bay, Golden Gate, Richmond, and San Mateo). It was an epic view. Backroads led us into Castro Valley where we played "spot the mullet". 5 points for a mullet dude. 10 points for a mullet chick. 15 point for a mullet kid. 50 points for a mullet family. I think we all racked up at least 500 points. Billy Ray Cyrus would have been proud. Miley Cyrus would have been impregnated. We jumped into the canyons of the Livermore wine country without seeing a car for 20 miles. Lots of twisty two lane road. Up into Pleasanton and we had a really shitty lunch. Man, food out that way sucks ass. Actually, sucking ass would have tasted better. After Pleasanton we headed into the Livermore back canyons and into Morgan Territory. Morgan Territory is where all the bicyclist in tight spandex climb to the top of the mountain, then coast at 50 to the bottom. I wanted to kick some of them to the curb. This place is in the middle of nowhere and on one side of the mountain are all million dollar homes and ranches. Then you cross the county line and end up with the Dukes of Hazard. The road narrows to a single lane on both sides of the mountain and you get to dodge assholes in cars up and down. At least there is a cliff on one side to soften the blow if you wipe out. Right as we hit the bottom, Syd from SF yelled, "I hate this road. It is the worst, scarriest road I have ever been on". Then Montery Pete flew by at breakneck speed yelling, "this is the best road ever". So what is the moral? How the fuck would I know, I'm immoral. After the fun stuff, we headed down death highway where every fuckwit in Walnut Creek drives 80 MPH as if Starbucks will run out of double whip super crapachino latte express fat-fuck-asswipe drinks. Slow down, you horse-face wolly mammoth, there's plenty left to help you keep your girlish figure. And by girl, I mean female hippo. Walnut creek led us into the backroads of Lafayette where we said goodbye to RobertSF and Jimmy, then into the back section of Canyon and the Oakland hills, where most other people bailed out. 8 of us made the trek back to the starting point in Berkeley. Only 3 breakdowns all day. Not back for 120+ miles at speed.

Sunday was a quick breakfast in Berkeley, then the backroads to a biker bar called the Warehouse Cafe in Port Costa. This is where all the real bikers go. No sport bikes and lots of vintage American. And lots of Hells Angels colors. And 30 of us pulling up on old Vespas and Lambrettas. The old bikers laugh their asses off at the little 2 strokes, but they are cool and come talk to us, since many of them started off on the same. The young Harley guys with the shaved heads and the personality they bought with the Harley usually just give us dirty looks. It must really be tough to hide the fact they are gay. We drank much beer and consumed much grub. We made it back. Don't ask how. I don't remember much of the ride, other than we were doing 70 through the hills. Oh yeah, kids, don't drink and drive! So, if you are into old scooters and want to have some fun in the NorCal area, search out the Oakland clubs at some of the events. And if you are a tool, then don't.