Here are Hoosier Daddy Pictures from Scoot.net, and Jedi Chad’s report, he has a better perspective on the weekend, since Vina and I never left the Lazy River:
Jen and I get to Jedi Matt’s house, and wait for him to finish packing everything he needs for the weekend on his P2. The bike had been ridden once, for a few blocks, in the last six months after getting hit by a car while parked outside his place. We wonder if its even going to start. Jedi Patrick is there to see us off, and we all get moving, stopping to fill up before we hit Lake Shore Drive. Of course this is Matt and Jen’s first trip on LSD (HA!) so I’m a bit worried, but they do fine. We wrangle ourselves down to Dyer and Jen’s bike starts backfiring and acting weird. We pull into a Harley shop lot and Jen resets her points and we’re back on the road. After a few construction detours, we hit open road on US 41 and I promptly got a flat. We were conveniently across from a shop, and I replaced the tube on the tire, and we quickly went on our way. 20 minutes later, I got another flat (the tire was shit, i found out later) and i had to slap my Snowmaster on the back. Snowmaster on the back and Sava Kran racer on the front, we finished the last 50 miles or so without incident, but the trip took us 5 hours to go 106 miles.
We pulled up and the Secret Agents from Indianapolis were already there, so we set up camp and had a few beers. Amanda pulled in with the Aerostar with her 150 Super/PX hybrid, and we decide to take a ride to Monticello to get supplies from Wal-Mart and the liquor store. We quickly discover that the 7-mile journey back to the campsite is a lot different in pitch black with weak headlights, no street lights whatsoever and windy country backroads that have a lake on either side, and no guardrails.
We make it back without incident though, and commence to drinking Hamm’s Golden Draft, Busch, Beam Black, Purple Passion, Bloody Marys and Wild Turkey. Kathy shows up in her pickup with Jeni’s Lammie and some Schaefer beer, and Hodge pulls up with his racer in the trunk of his Caprice, ’cause his shocks were too weak for the Scooterworks single-scooter rack that he was planning to borrow.
Drinking ensued, and the bugs came out to feast, but the citronella and two bug coils seemed to keep them at bay, when finally around midnight, Rye showed up on his Suzuki crotchrocket with no changes of clothes, no tent, no nothing.
Matt passed out and got tea bagged for the camera, a few people run off to Lafayette for 15 minutes at a titty bar, and we all retire sometime in the wee hours.
Morning brought us scorching heat and I got to teach Amanda how to ride her scoot again… after not having ridden in over six months, and even then having only limited practice time. She picked it up again no problem, and we took off for the park, meeting the Bedells at John’s Beach Bakery outside the park for donuts and biscuits and gravy. and we got to watch two birds humping in the rafters.
We got to the park and most of us stayed together, but the Bedells headed straight for the lazy river and stayed there for 5 hours.
The two big wooden coasters were pretty cool, the Cornball Express being all curvy and rough, and the Hoosier Hurricane speeding up and down the length of the park… Mullets and homemade tattoos were everywhere, since people who cant afford Disney World go to the Wisconsin Dells, and those that can’t afford the dells go to Indiana Beach.
After burning our asses off on some rides, we hit the water park and floated with the Bedells for a while on the lazy river while Hodge wandered the river’s murky waters looking for his glasses.
We hit the water slides and opted NOT to swim at the “filtered well water” beach, and went instead to the beach bar for some beers while waiting for Jen and Amanda, who had split off when we hit the water park.
We then hit a local bar which apparently had not heard of air conditioning, but did serve food and $1 Stroh’s and $1 Honey Brown, and had both David Allen Coe and Eminem on the jukebox. After emptying the bar of Honey Brown, we headed back to the campsite to find long lost Screw City boy Chris Winters (manager of HOT TOPIC!) drinkin’ beer and waiting for us to show. Most of the crew then prompty hopped into the Indy guys’ Land Rover to go to what they say was the worst titty bar ever, and Matt, Mike from Indy and I scooted to Monon for some more beer and came across 4 packs of aluminum cans of real Jim Beam and coke (5%? we passed on that one).
Got back and had a few beers and waited for the titty bar tour to return. I napped for a few hours and woke up and hung with Screw City Chris for a while and then we all hit the sack.
Sunday morning, everyone got up and we held the “raffle.” Big Rye won an EFL gearbox (cause he was the only one who wanted it) and since only 10 people who weren’t club members even showed up, everyone went home with a nice prize or two. Since Matt, Amanda and I were all club members, Jen won the shitbox award for her Lammy that didn’t go anywhere, and she also won the furthest ridden award. Mike from Indy won the best Lammy award and Quentin from Indy won the best Vespa award. Chris Winters won the useless award (a gold gear with missing teeth) for showing up late on saturday night and being able to do absolutely nothing.
We all cleaned up the site (ten minutesOe good kids!) and headed off home. The three bikes riding home, Jen, Matt and mine, made it back with no further trouble, and we made pit stops at Steak and Shake in Michigan City and Rainbow Cone at 92nd and Western, before heading home to sleep off the weekend.