Tuesday, June 28, 2011

A lesson on how to vacation like me.


Warning: Contains spicy language. Side effects may include indigestion and complete loss of respect for the writer.


Once again it's time for our annual vacation, just me and the Man, and many, many miles on a Harley. Now if you've been silly enough, dedicated enough or just plained bored enough to read some of my previous posts, you will see that we've done this before. We are professionals...do not try this at home.

Let me begin by talking about packing for a trip of this magnitude. Cramming enough clothes to last two people for ten days onto the back of a motorcycle is no easy task. Concessions must be made. Rain gear, sunscreen, comfortable panties...some things are just non-negotiable. Everything else is fair game. That cute summer top you bought to go with the sparkly sandals? Not gonna happen. Just go ahead now and resign yourself to comfy jeans and tank tops. Or do what I do. Take some crappy t-shirts that you don't care about and then when they are all dirty, throw them away
and buy new ones.

Everything you needs must be packed on THIS amount of space.




It will make you think twice before your order anything smothered in barbeque sauce.

Since I am assuming that most of you have never traveled extensively by motorcycle, I am going to educate you on some of the finer tips and techniques of this mode of travel. This is my public service to you. And I'm hoping my probation officer counts this as part of my community service. (It's a joke, MOM. Geesh.)

First of all, there's the biker wave. This differs greatly from the normal wave, the neighbor wave, and the pageant queen wave. Let me illustrate.




Drop hand casually, no finger movement, small head nod if you're feeling particularly friendly. Must be done while ignoring the insane person on the passenger seat that's waving like she just saw Bozo the Clown.

Road hazards are especially dangerous when traveling on two wheels. This particular trip we encountered gators, snakes and landslides. (Not to mention some of the worst roads I have ever traveled. Tax dollars for road maintenance, people!)

Lest you be confused and think that we drove through a swamp, let me 'splain.

This is a gator.



This is a road gator.



Do not confuse the two. Neither is fun to run over, but only one of the above will come flying through the air towards your head. Unless you have flying alligators alligators where you live, in which case I will not be coming to visit anytime soon.


Now we all know what snakes look like. I'm not going to google a picture of one just to post here for your illustration. If you really want to see one, go google it your damn self. But. But. This is a tar snake. It can make for slippery, weaving, jolting driving. It will also cause the Man to shout at you to "Sit Still!" when all you were really doing was spinning around 180 degrees to take a picture of a camel's butt. (True story.) These are tar snakes.




We all know what snakes look like. But these are tar snakes. They WILL cause you to get yelled at.

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