Wind Dancers Pacific Rally: September 24 - 26, 2004
When we got back to the campground, many of the Wind Dancers were back from their afternoon rides. I changed out of my bike gear and then mingled with folks, trading ride stories and just catching up in general. Peter and I made a Very Important beer run, and were thrilled that the KOA store sold Actual Real Microbrews in addition to Budweiser and Coors. Stephanie, for her part, went with the ever-classy mini bottle of wine and authentic KOA wine glasses. Tony was ecstatic to hear that, once again, he'd be bringing home glassware in his saddlebags.
Peter and I quickly realized the error of only bringing three bottles of beer down to the rec area from our tent. After plowing through those bottles with somewhat alarming speed, I volunteered to stumble back to the tent for more beer. There, I bumped into Karen and Laura, who were just arriving back after their 200-mile afternoon ride, and were also wondering how to transport their beer down to the BBQ. Fortunately, Barb's husband Brian appeared, as Brian is a human beer transport device. He single-handedly managed to bring eight bottles down to us thirsty womenfolk.
The dinner itself was spectacular: burgers, bratwurst, potato salad, cheese lasagne, mixed green salad, baked beans... I ate pretty much all of the above. It's just so darn easy to pig out at BBQs, especially when mixed with copious amounts of beer. Naturally, we were all perfect ladies at dinner, and behaved ourselves impeccably.
After dinner came the arm wrestling competition. Petaluma is, apparently, the arm wrestling capital of the world, so the rally organizers convinced us (the beer helped) to wrassle a bit. I made it to round three, though I'm still convinced that Peter let me win our round.
The heart-pounding finale came down to Steph and me. The tension was high! The pressure was on! We were pretty evenly matched, but she eventually whupped my butt. I'm sure we looked ridiculous, trying to arm wrestle while laughing uncontrollably.
The raffle was next, and we kept up the tradition of having more raffle prizes than rallygoers, so everyone got a prize. I ended up with a way-too-large Corbin T-shirt and a gift certificate for Fremont Cycle Salvage. Other prizes included gift certificates to San Jose BMW, Just Leathers, and Cruiser Customizing, as well as various books, sundries, and a pair of Helimot Buffalo 365 gloves.
After the raffle, we retired to the hospitality cabin for a nice campfire. I ate too many S'mores, and tried to drink enough water to fend off all that damn beer. It was a gorgeous night: cool enough to sit around the fire, and warm enough to stay out chatting for quite a while.
Unfortunately, we soon had to go to bed, which began my true camping adventure. We managed to set up the tent on a slope, so every time I tried to get comfortable, I just ended up rolling away. Peter and I also spent all night stealing the top sleeping bag "blanket" away from one another, and just generally not getting any sleep at all. Sometime in the middle of the night, it occurred to my body that I'd had like five hundred fluid ounces of beer, but there was no way on god's green earth that I was coming out from under that warm sleeping bag, not even for the bathroom. Eventually, I dozed off enough to have really messed up dreams about being on a spaceship with someone trying to kill me.