my liver is evil and it must be punished. . .

So I finally got to attend my first motorcycle rally.  Three days of no kids and a designated driver. . .hence the title to this blog post.  When am I ever going to get another chance to eat my food at a restaurant when it comes to the table rather than taking a child to the bathroom that waits until my food arrives?  When am I ever going to get a chance to not refer to myself as “Mama?”  When am I ever going to get the chance to do what I want to and not have to think of a 3-year-old and a 6-year-old?  On the back of Dustin’s motorcycle I yelled, “I want these three days to take care of the rest of the year that we don’t do anything!” 

First of all, I’ll admit, I was nervous about what to wear at the ROT Rally.  I knew my best choice for color was black, but my wardrobe to say the least is a little. . .different.  My motorcycle boots are zebra print, oh yah, I’m a hardcore biker chick.  Dustin told me it didn’t matter what I wore, we would see all different types of people there.  Some with leather chaps, some with out leather chaps, some with clothes, some without clothes.  I was totally unprepared for my first biker experience.

To show how not biker I am, I opted for flying to Austin.  I knew I would not be a happy passenger on a nine hour bike ride to Austin and so did my husband.  Apparently my cousin Diana and our friend Cindy thought a plane ride sounded a little more fun, so we set out early Thursday morning to our state’s capital.  FYI:  I’m not that great of a flyer, lots of deep breathing and holding on to the arm rest are involved when the plane drops at leat 500 feet.  Apparently I screamed a little too loud and most of the passengers thought it was funny.

What do I want to do when I get to Austin?  Eat a Chuy’s. . .and get a tattoo, but we’ll get to that later.  Ever since Jess and Aaron lived in Austin for Aaron’s internship, I was introduced to the wonderful food of Chuy’s.  Eat at Chuy’s, check.  Shoot, the trip just started and I’m halfway done with my to do list.  Thursday was lots of walking around at the rally, looking a vendors, pricing tattoos, taking pictures of ourselves in front of an inflatible penis and blow up doll, you know the normal stuff us biker people do.  Hey, when in Rome?  Friday was Luckenbach, Texas.  Dustin wanted to drink a beer in Luckenbach, Texas.  Too bad Waylon and Willie and the boys couldn’t meet them down there!  It took us a little while to find it, but a good band was playing and I got some good pictures of us there.

Friday night was 6th Street.  I have never seen so many people in one area.  Dee Snyder of Twisted Sister led the bike parade from the fairgrounds to 6th Street.  Later that night, he was walking past us and Dustin yelled, “Hey Dee!” and he yelled back, “Hey guys. . .and girls!”  The “guys” were our group and the “girls” were me and Diana!  How many times did I text Jess and Erin that Dee Snyder said hi to me?!?  I also chose this evening to bar hop.  Refer to the first paragraph of me having a designated driver.  So whiskey sours, $2 margaritas and a giant swirly drink helped me experience 6th Street in Austin.  I’m pretty sure I told a lot of people they were awesome because that is what I do when I drink. . .too much.  I also drunk dial my sister. . .a lot.  Too many funny things were awesome and the bands in all the bars were awesome. 

So after the awesome time Friday night and getting back to the hotel sometime after midnight, Saturday morning rolls around and my stomach is rolling right with it.  I vow not to drink while we float down the river, but again refer to paragraph one.  We make the drive to New Braunfels and I have had 11 hours to shake off the night before.  I was alot more still than I have been the entire time on Dustin’s bike and then he turned up his radio and said, “Don’t you love this song?”  Big mistake.  It’s like on Footloose when Sarah Jessica Parker is in that different town that has the bar and everyone is dancing but her and then an awesome song comes on and she yells that she has to dance.  Yep, I was still for 45 minutes, but after that, the music moved me.  It may have moved me ugly, but nobody knew me down there.

If you ever go near Austin or really New Braunfels, you have to go float down the river.  You have to.  Four and half hours floating in a tube, drinking and soaking up the sun became one of my top four moments.  Three way tie for first is marrying Dustin and the birth of both my girls.  And this floating phenomenon beat out the day Dish Network hooked up my DVR (that was a life changing moment right there).  Maybe you could go without the solid drinking for four and half hours and somehow reapply sunscreen, but I wouldn’t trade that day for anything.  Not even all the moments after the floating of the river such as:  (1) The needing Chuck to help me and Diana walk up the path to the shuttle.  (2) The falling off the bike when Dustin hit the chunk of concrete.  (3) The losing my dinner from the night before (because I skipped breakfast and lunch) at the bbq place after we were done floating.  (4) That really nice fellow biker chick who told me from the next stall that “you get that all out Honey and you will feel so much better.”  And then she found me at the table later and gave me all of her tums.  (5) That hour long ride where I swore if Dustin hit another bump I was going to lose my Chuy’s from the day before.  Nope, that day was awesome.

We headed back up to the rally that evening after I took a much needed nap.  That worrying about what bikers wear at rallies went right out the window.  I managed a longsleeve t-shirt, stretch shorts, croc sandals and a bandana with my sunglasses.  Ohh yah, I’m a biker chick. . .with a serious headache that even the sun is hurting my poor head.  I kept thinking of the song “I wear my sunglasses at night.”  That was me.  I managed to hold down a hot dog and half a Sprite, so the evening was looking up.  (I know Mom is shaking her head while reading this and I’m sure Dad has done this before at some point in his life.)  Bret Michaels was the final concert and it again was awesome.  The other half of my to do list didn’t happen because we floated down the river for over four hours.  And at some point on the river I declared that I wanted a battleship tattooed across my chest.  If drinking and bad decisions ever went hand in hand, it was at that moment.  All the vendors packed up at 8:00 p.m. so my ROT Rally souvenir tattoo would have to wait.

Sunday was a little sad because our trip had come to an end and my liver had declared me an unfit owner.  I was however ready to see my girls and get back to my old life.  This trip was, for lack of better words, awesome.  It was nice to just be Steph for three days and get to hang out with adults.  But in the end, I’m glad it was just for three days. . .being a biker is a lot of work. . .and you throw up alot!

There were thousands of bikers coming through Luckenback this weekend and apparently the family of five that included the pregnant mom pushing her 2-year-old in the stroller didn’t get the memo.

Diana’s in the red shirt at the bar saying, “You want one?”  I had so much fun with her!

“Hey Louie,” Dustin, “Cousin Chuck” and “Nancy” enjoying their beer.

Apparently this is what the future holds for my husband if we go to too many of these rallies. . .

I don’t know why people always take this type of picture?!?  It never turns out right.  It’s like I’m saying, “I was here and so were my nose hairs that I’m trying to show everyone!”

Me the Biker Mama

This is our group that ran around during the rally.

Louie and Cindy

Doug and Katie

Chuck and Diana

Dustin and me. . .he takes a lot of pictures like this because I’m always behind the camera.

I’ve got an awesome zoom lens on my camera, so I was swiveling around taking pictures of randomness. . .people, flowers, cows, you name it, I was taking a picture of it.  I later found out that Dustin doesn’t like me as a passenger on his motorcycle.  My dancing to my MP3 player and constant moving is a little distracting for him as well as difficult for him to drive.  I’m still trying to get him to buy those walkie talkie radios for our helmets so we can talk to each other the entire time.  He says no. . .okay, he says hell no.

Chuck never smiles for the camera.  I finally got one of him.

Crap, he saw me.

This is one of the many shirts Louie wore during the rally.  I should have taken a picture of each one each day, they were awesome!

This is us up on the highway. . .still taking pictures, still dancing to my MP3 player.  If we had those radios, he could tell me to be still. . .

Yep, we are pretty high up and I am just snapping away.  Snap, snap, snap.

When we finally went to the Capital, I din’t have my camera, so I was trying to get a few shots of Austin as we flew down the highway.

I already miss home.  Dustin can’t go to Wal-Mart because of all the people.   Four o’clock traffic was not fun with it being 90+ degrees outside.  By this time I had rolled up my pant legs, again, I’m such a biker.

This is the semi right next to us.

Dustin was in the bathroom with me getting ready while Chuck and Diana were in the bedroom.  Dustin put my sandals on and came out of the bathroom and he ran into Chuck wearing my motorcycle boots.  They had a good laugh over it, but I thought my shoes were going to smell if they didn’t take them off soon.