I THOUGHT I WOULD SHARE ONE MORE TALE ABOUT MY DAYS RIDING WITH THE BANDITOS. THIS LITTLE EPISODE BEGAN ABOUT A YEAR OR SO AFTER MY INITIATION. IT DIDN'T TAKE ME VERY LONG TO GET A REPUTATION AS THE "DRUG-DOINGEST" BANDITO IN THE CLUBHOUSE. THERE WAS NO CHEMICAL THRILL I DID NOT SEEK, NO DRUG-INDUCED STUPOR I DID NOT PURSUE WITH TOTAL ABANDON. MIGHT EXPLAIN WHY I ONLY HAVE ABOUT 17 BRAIN CELLS LEFT.
ANYWAY, ONE OF THE WAYS THE CLUB, AND ALL CLUBS FOR THAT MATTER, SUPPORTED ITSELF WAS WITH CONTRABAND ............ DRUGS, GUNS, VEHICLES, WHATEVER WOULD SELL. BEING THAT I HAD A REAL "FEEL", SO TO SPEAK, FOR THE DRUG TRADE, I WAS QUICKLY "ASSIGNED" AS IT WERE, TO DRUG RUNNING. NOW LET ME SAY RIGHT HERE, I WAS A "MULE", NOTHING MORE. I DID NOT STAND OUTSIDE SCHOOLYARDS AND "HAWK MY WARES" OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. I MADE THE BUYS THAT SUPPLIED THE FOLKS THAT DID THAT SORT OF THING. I KNOW ITS NOT MUCH OF A DISTINCTION, BUT IT'S HOW I JUSTIFIED IT TO MYSELF. HEY !!!! I TOLD YOU, OUTLAW, REMEMBER??
THE "BASIC" RUN WAS TO HOUSTON, TX AND BACK, TWICE A WEEK. HOWEVER THIS PARTICULAR RUN WAS IN NO WAY "BASIC". NOT IN ROUTE OR QUANTITY. THIS RUN WAS SPECIAL. SOME OF MY DEALINGS WERE, OF COURSE, WITH OTHER CLUBS. AND FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW IT, THE HELL'S ANGELS HAVE A CHAPTER IN SAN ANTONIO, TX, OR AT LEAST DID AT THAT TIME. AND IT WAS A DEAL WITH THIS MOST INFAMOUS OF ALL CLUBS, FROM WHICH THIS STORY IS TAKEN.
SEE, THIS RUN INVOLVED AN EXCEPTIONALLY LARGE BUY, IF YOU CONSIDER $25 GRAND (IN 1971 DOLLARS) A LARGE BUY. NOW, I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT CARRYING THAT MUCH CASH INTO HARM'S WAY, SO TO SPEAK, MADE OL' HAWG A BIT ANXIOUS. A BIT ANXIOUS ??? HELL !!! IT MADE ME DOWNRIGHT PENSIVE. I MEAN, LOSING THE MONEY OR THE MERCHANDISE WOULD ALSO MEAN LOSING SOMETHING VERY NEAR AND DEAR TO ME ................ MY LIFE !!! AND I WAS ABOUT TO DEAL WITH THE KINGS OF THE OUTLAW CLUBS. THE "MISSION", AND I DID CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT, WAS SIMPLY TO RIDE TO SAN ANTONIO, MAKE THE BUY, THEN, GIVE THE MERCHANDISE SAFE TRANSPORT BACK TO THE CLUBHOUSE. EASY, RIGHT?? HARDLY !!!!
I HAVE TO ADMIT TO BEING SOMEWHAT APPREHENSIVE AS THE CLUB PRESIDENT, JOE CARDWELL, STUFFED ALL THAT CASH IN MY SADDLEBAGS. THEN HE LOOKED ME DEAD IN THE EYES AND SAID SOMETHING TO ME THAT I CAN STILL REMEMBER, VER BATIM. HIS IMMORTAL WORDS WERE, "THERE IS NO CAVE DEEP ENOUGH, NO JUNGLE DARK ENOUGH, NO MAGIC BLACK ENOUGH TO HIDE YOU FROM ME IF YOU FOUL (BEST "F" WORD SUBSTITUTE I COULD THINK OF) THIS UP." MAN, THAT SURE HELPED MY ANXIETY ABOUT THE WHOLE THING.
WELL, AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, THE TRIP STARTED OUT BADLY AND GOT WORSE FROM THERE. FIRST, I HAD A FLAT ON THE SCOOT NOT FIVE MILES OUT. THANK GOODNESS FOR "FIX-A-FLAT". YOU KNOW, THAT CANNED TIRE INFLATOR AND SEALER. YEAH, I KNOW IT RUINS THE TIRE, BUT JOE'S WORDS WERE STILL FRESH IN MY HEAD AND I WAS NOT ABOUT TO LEAVE THE SCOOT, OR THE CASH, TO GET THE TIRE FIXED. HELL, THOSE WORDS ARE STILL FRESH IN MY HEAD TODAY, SOME 36 YEARS LATER. IN FACT, I HAVE TO ADMIT TO HAVING USED THEM, IN ONE FORM OR ANOTHER, SEVERAL TIMES WITH MY SON. BUT I DIGRESS. ANYWAY, TIRE INFLATED AND ON THE ROAD, MY COOL BEGAN TO RETURN. THE OPEN ROAD AND THAT ONE AND ONLY HARLEY SOUND ALWAYS SEEMED TO HAVE THAT EFFECT ON ME.
THEN, JUST AS I BEGAN TO SETTLE INTO THE GROOVE (RIDERS WILL UNDERSTAND THAT PHRASE) THE SKY BEGAN TO CLOUD UP AND BEFORE I KNEW IT, IT WAS COMING DOWN IN SHEETS. I MEAN A REAL FROG STRANGLER. LET ME SAY HERE, THAT I WAS ON A SCHEDULE AND HAD ALREADY LOST VALUABLE TIME TO THE FLAT SO STOPPING JUST WASN'T IN THE CARDS. IT WAS PROBABLY THE ONLY TIME THAT I WAS HAPPY TO BE WEARING A HELMET. NOW NORMALLY, SUMMER RAINS IN THIS PART OF THE COUNTRY COME AND GO LIKE A $2 DOLLAR HOOKER, BUT NOT THIS TIME, OH NO !!!!! TWO HOURS LATER IT WAS STILL POURING AND FOR THE FIRST AND ONLY TIME I MIGHT ADD, I WAS MISERABLE IN THE SADDLE.
THEN, IN THE DISTANCE I SAW A CAR APPROACHING. IT WAS BOBBING AND WEAVING LIKE ALI WHEN HE WAS CASSIUS CLAY. I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, DAMN, WHAT ELSE??? WRONG QUESTION .......... SURE ENOUGH, AS WE BEGAN TO PASS EACH OTHER, THIS DRUNK SWERVED AGAIN AND I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO TAKE TO THE DITCH ............... THE RAINWATER FILLED DITCH. THE TIRES DISAPPEARED, THE SEAT DISAPPEARED, THE HANDLEBARS DISAPPEARED ....................
MY LEGS DISAPPEARED, THEN MY CHEST. WHEN THE WATER LINE HIT MY CHIN I JUST HAD TO LET GO AND TRY TO SWIM. THE BIKE, AND THE SADDLEBAGS HOLDING THE CASH, WERE GONE !!!!! SUBMERGED IN THE DARK, MURKY DITCH WATER AND MUD. FUNNY, BUT I BET YOU CAN GUESS WHAT I WAS THINKING RIGHT ABOUT THEN ...................... "NO CAVE DEEP ENOUGH, NO JUNGLE DARK ENOUGH, NO MAGIC BLACK ENOUGH." SURE, IT WASN'T MY FAULT, BUT AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, JOE WAS A "NO EXCUSES" KINDA GUY. AND HOW WAS I GONNA EXPLAIN THIS ONE ANYWAY?? HELL, I WAS HAVING TROUBLE BELIEVING IT HAPPENED AND I WAS THERE !!! THE ONLY COURSE OF ACTION LEFT TO ME NOW, WAS TO SIT ON THE ROADSIDE, WAIT FOR THE RAIN TO LET UP, THEN WAIT FOR THE DITCH WATER TO RECEED SO I COULD FIND THAT POOR, DROWNED MOTORCYCLE AND THE SADDLEBAGS THAT HELD MY VERY LIFE IN THEM. THEN ANOTHER HORRIBLE THOUGHT CROSSED MY MIND
WHAT IF THE CURRENT WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO DRAG THE BIKE ALONG WITH IT. THE NEXT TIME I SAW IT, IT MIGHT BE AS THEY PULLED IT OUT OF THE RIO GRANDE. YOU KNOW, THIS WAS A DEFINING MOMENT IN MY LIFE. IT WAS TIME TO TAKE ACTION, NOT JUST SIT AND WAIT. SO I DOVE OFF INTO THAT DARK, NASTY DITCH WATER AND BEGAN MY SEARCH FOR THE BIKE. I WAS ONLY ABOUT AN HOURS RIDE FROM SAN ANTONIO, SO IF I COULD JUST GET THOSE SADDLEBAGS, I COULD CONTINUE ON MY "QUEST". THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID "QUEST !!!" WE WERE WAY BEYOND A MISSION NOW AND I HAD BEGUN TO SEE THIS THING AS A TEST, ME AGAINST THE UNIVERSE.
THEN, WHAT I CAN STILL ONLY EXPLAIN AS "DIVINE INTERVENTION" TOOK OVER. FORTUNATELY, THE BIKE HAD SUNK IN THE MUD AND I FOUND IT QUICKLY. THE SADDLEBAGS WERE FLOATING OUT TO THE SIDES, MEANING THEY WERE HOLDING BOTH DRY CLOTHES AND DRY MONEY. NOW HAVING RESECURED MY LIFE, I NOTICED THE RAIN HAD FINALLY STOPPED. "HALLELLULAH !!!", I SAID TO MYSELF. THEN, THE FIRST VEHICLE TO COME ALONG, OF ALL THINGS, WAS A TOW TRUCK, OUT OF SAN ANTONIO. SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT "DIVINE INTERVENTION??"
THE DRIVER STOPPED AND BY THE TIME I TOLD HIM WHAT HAD HAPPENED, THE DITCH HAD DRAINED ENOUGH THAT THE HANDLEBARS WERE STICKING UP OUT OF THE WATER. HE PULLED MY HOG OUT AND TOOK US BOTH TO SAN ANTONIO. HE DROPPED US AT THE LOCAL HARLEY SHOP, AND BELIEVE IT OR NOT, IT IS CALLED DAVIDSON'S HARLEY, OR AT LEAST, IT WAS THEN. SOMEHOW, I TOOK A STRANGE COMFORT IN THAT. JUST MADE ME FEEL LIKE THEY WOULD REALLY KNOW WHAT THEY WERE DOING. SURE ENOUGH, THEY WERE GREAT !!!! HAD MY SCOOT OPERATIONAL IN ABOUT 2 HOURS. I WAS ELATED, UNTIL I REALIZED I WAS MORE THAN 5 HOURS LATE FOR MY "MEETING." I PAID THE MAN, MR. DAVIDSON HIMSELF, BY THE WAY, AND ROARED AWAY.
I FINALLY ARRIVED AT THEIR CLUBHOUSE SOME 6 HOURS LATE. CONSIDERING ALL THAT HAD HAPPENED, I THOUGHT I HAD DONE WELL. BUT IT WAS STILL A VERY TENSE MOMENT AS I PULLED UP TO THE HEAVILY REINFORCED AND GUARDED GATE OF THE COMPOUND. AFTER EXCHANGING PLEASANTRIES (PASSWORDS), THE GATE SLID ASIDE AND I RUMBLED IN. I WAS MET IN THE COMPOUND BY 3 OF THE ABSOLUTE SALTIEST DUDES I HAD EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. NOW, FOR THE RECORD, I FEAR NO MAN, BUT THAT CONVICTION WAS SERIOUSLY TESTED BY THIS TRIO.
"YOU'RE LATE !!!!!!" THE SALTIEST OF THE 3 GROWLED. SHOWING NO FEAR I GROWLED BACK, "I'M HERE, AIN'T I ??" "ARE WE GONNA DANCE, OR DO BUSINESS??" THEN HE SMILED, AND SAID, "I THINK WE'LL DANCE." “IN THE PIT", HE CONTINUED. NOW FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW IT, THE PIT WAS THE PLACE WHERE MANHOOD WAS TESTED. IT WAS BASICALLY A BARE KNUCKLES, ANYTHING GOES FIGHT, NOT NECESSARILY TO THE DEATH, BUT IT HAD HAPPENED. AND HERE I WAS, BEING CHALLENGED TO THE PIT BY WHOM I LATER FOUND OUT WAS THE CHAPTER PRESIDENT, ROBERT SHELTON. "LOOK", I SAID, AND I BEGAN TO RANT AND RAVE ABOUT MY EXPERIENCES ON THE TRIP DOWN, BASICALLY HAVING A "FLAPPIN-ARM" FIT.
ROBERT GOT TO LAUGHING SO HARD AT MY STORY, THAT HE SAID, "SOUNDS TO ME LIKE YOU BEEN IN THE PIT ALL DAY," "I THINK WE'LL JUST LET THIS ONE PASS." "NOW, LET'S DO SOME BUSINESS." WELL, AFTER HAVING A VERY LENGTHY SAMPLING SESSION OF THE PRODUCT (AND ONE OF THE HOUSE MAMAS) I LOADED UP MY MERCHANDISE AND BEGAN THE TREK BACK HOME. "DAMN", I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, "I SHOULD WRITE A BOOK."
OH YEAH, ONE INTERESTING LITTLE SIDEBAR TO THE STORY. DOES THE NAME "ROBERT SHELTON" MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?? HE WAS QUITE FAMOUS, OR SHOULD I SAY INFAMOUS. NO, NOT FOR ANYTHING HE DID AS A HELL'S ANGEL CHAPTER PRESIDENT. NOPE, ROBERT SHELTON WAS, JUST A YEAR OR TWO LATER, THE IMPERIAL DRAGON OF THE UNITED KLANS OF AMERICA. THAT'S RIGHT, THE HEAD TURD-KNOCKER OF THE KU KLUX KLAN. WHY, HE EVEN HAD AN INTERVIEW IN PLAYBOY. JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT TRUTH IS ALWAYS STRANGER THAN FICTION.
