It was a welcome relief when they finally arrived at the “gate”. They parked the bug-splattered Electraglide of to the side in a patch of rough desert set up as a crowded parking lot. He shut down the engine, the overheated metal popping and cracking as it contracted, trying to cool in the bright, hot sun. They waited outside the old patched GP medium tent with three of its sides rolled up, he surveyed their surroundings as his lady chatted with a heavily tattooed woman also waiting in line. The line was long and it was hot as hell; many were sipping at bottled water and canteens. The gatekeepers were a rough looking lot….Some of them one percenters with ratty faded colors, their prospects doing most of the work. Most of them were armed; he noticed a sawed-off double barreled shotgun slung under the vest of one of the men. Knives abounded, as well as some not-so-well concealed handguns among everyone there. His own .38 was well hidden on his person but easily accessible. So was the cut down 30-30 on the bike….The weapons would mean jail time if some of them were caught.
They were both recognized by a club brother, meaning much less hassles getting in. Many being questioned as to why they were there….Being a square or a cager didn’t automatically exclude one….It just depended on what they had to offer….Some belonged and some didn’t. This wasn’t the place to be caught bullshitting. They paid the tattooed and pierced girl at the long tables, one of several, a few wearing property belts. If one had silver, it cost much less….An argument was going on as the collected their wrist bands and prepared to leave, some body was getting the boot. He shook hands and hugged his bro and got directions on where a good camp spot had been set aside for them. She hugged her new found friend and made arraignments to meet later.
They mounted their scooter, lit off the still hot engine, fishtailing a bit as the back tire broke loose in the lose rock and sand. They pulled out onto the cracked and blistered pavement accelerating though the maze of bikes and vehicles. Noticing a crude sign that said ” Leave Attitudes and Guns Outside”, he had to laugh….Entering what first appeared to be a third world refugee camp and in some ways was….