Bad weather ahead

July 31, 2008

Debbie Ingram

This is what we see through our windshield as we approach Huntsville.

Day 1 to Sturgis not going well

Debbie Ingram

What you gotta love about traveling is the unexpected.
There are always those “traditional” unexpecteds that you kinda look to happen. I mean like the oversleeping or the surpising limit on the amount of cash per day that can be withdrawn from the ATM. There’s the forgotten items or the kids waking up in a foul mood, unable to find some necessary thing like cleats for soccer camp, or their favorite flip-flops that they told Dulanni they were gonna wear today, so mom, they have to find them. They just have to!
Then there’s “road trouble.“
No flats. No breakdowns. Horror upon horrors—it is much worse. The bike fell over.
The 2008 Harley Davidson Street Glide layed over on its side, pulled out a hook and tie-down. Damage very, very minimal, but this is serious to a biker man, so we have been at I-65 Exit 299 for probably more than an hour. Help showed up from Troy, just as the husband was satisfied the bike was secure in the toy hauler.
Richard Barbaree, William Dunn, and his granddaughter Marlee Reed, offered moral support which seemed to make the husand feel better. Geez. You woulda thought he broke a nail.
The bad news is it makes Kansas City seem like a nearly impossible goal for the night. This trip is more than 1,500 miles, folks. And we haven’t even made it out of Bama yet.
OK, it’s just after 3 and we are getting back on the road.

Sturgis Bound: That’s one road trip extraordinaire

July 30, 2008

Debbie Ingram

Towels, shampoo and soap. Check. Helmet. Check. Chaps. Check.

Clothes for hot weather. Clothes for cold weather. Rain gear. Check.

Sleazy biker wear that comes nowhere close to meeting the Dothan Eagle dress code. Plenty of checks.

It’s been a short, hot summer, and now comes the time that we eagerly await. No, it’s not back to school, it’s summer vacation. Tomorrow begins the first of my 10-day vacation to Sturgis, South Dakota, for Sturgis Bike Week.

It is not the most perfect time of the year to leave town because the children do start back to school next week and the oldest is in the midst of soccer practice for the fall travel season. But, some things can’t be helped and it’s not exactly like Sturgis can be moved to benefit me.

So, the husband and I will spend the rest of tonight loading up the camper and getting the gear packed as we prepare for our 27-hour ride north by northwest to the Black Hills of South Dakota. Two days on the road and six days in a campground.

It is a first-time Sturgis trip for me, though the husband has been once before. I can’t wait to experience what is the largest biker rally in the world.

While there, we will mark our first wedding anniversary with tickets to Larry the Cable Guy. That’s telling, I know.

Anyhow, here’s hoping if you can’t pack your gear and hit the open road, you will choose to come along with us on-line, as I post daily updates, anecdotes and nudie pictures from this year’s 68th annual event. OK, that was a joke about nudie pictures. (Ask me to show you those when I get back.)

There’s lots left to do, so be back in about 11 hours and 59 minutes ....58….57….

Who’s excited?!

Debbie Ingram on the road to Sturgis

Debbie Ingram

How come I feel like I am doing all the work here

June 08, 2008

Debbie Ingram

Back in the office on Sunday afternoon I am going through BamaJam withdrawals but am glad to be clean and free of those grasshoppers. The husband, the lucky guy, is in his big, green recliner in front of the TV. It’s some big, big chair that seats one mom and two kids or a 6-foot, 6-inch man. The chair has some honking name like “Big Daddy” chair or something. It is “recommended” by some famous NFL players. It is about as wide as the end zone uprights.

Anyway ... You know how when you go on a camping trip, there is always something you forget. And when you get back, there is always something you have lost.

Second day into the BamaJam camping adventure and the husband realizes he has no socks. We get Max O, the photographer at the paper, to make a swing by the house on the way. MY coworker goes out to our house to get MY husband’s socks.

Anything to keep the husband happy. And he is.

When we get back home about mid-day, and after unpacking, mowing, doing a load of wash and getting ready to come into work, I realize I have lost my brush.

I search the camper, the bags, the kitchen. I backtrack my steps and try a few more places in the RV.

“I have lost my round hairbrush,“ I tell the husband. “Have you seen it?“

Heavy, heavy with sarcasm comes the response.

“No, baby, I am sooo sorry, but I have not seen your round hair brush. Did you look in the camper?“

“Of course I looked in the camper. I looked twice in the camper. I looked on the ground to and from the camper. I looked in the dirty clothes, in the bathroom, in the garage. I looked everywhere I have been since I last saw it. I looked places I haven’t been. I looked everywhere. Yes, I looked in the camper.“

Let me point out my aggravation. When HE forgot HIS socks, I made a call to MY co-worker and we got HIM some socks, by george. But my round hairbrush comes up lost and it is not quite so important. It is laughable, he thinks, how seriously I am searching.

“Maybe you left it at BamaJam,“ he says from the recliner, the remote in hand and the air blowing 68 cold degrees in his face.

“I’m going to work,“ I say.

“Bye, baby.“ There is still some laughter in his voice.

“Oh, baby,“ he adds. “Are you gonna put up the lawn mower?“

“I thought you were gonna finish the yard?“ I ask.

“It’s just too hot,“ he says, yawning as I head out the door. “Would you bring me something to eat?“