Finally made it to the start of the bike ride. Took one plane from Cape Cod, another from Boston to Portland and then a 2 1/2 hour bus ride to Astoria, Oregon (right at the mouth of the Columbia River).
Everything has gone well. Fast hotel check-in and was quickly able to assemble my bike. On the bus ride I meet Terry (from Toronto) and Brian (from Perth) and at the hotel Gartner (from Rockport). So far it seems no one works (all retired) so that is a good sign. Only fear is that these guys are all "tour veterans" having ridden all over the world. I asked Brian what he did for a living and he said "bike ride" (later on I found out he owns some printing stores in Australia that his wife runs while he goes on tours (the good life).
In any case I digress.
Terry and I quickly get changed and headed out on a short 25 mile leg stretch. Beautiful country that is for sure (except for the strip lumber operations and the logging trucks that scream by you at 60 mph). The trucks will take some getting use to - as they will be our companions at least through our riding in "tree country".
Well not to bore you with stupid stuff about my bike ride; suffice to say at the end of the ride I was thirsty and decided to get a beer. Unfortunately we are staying in a Holiday Inn and no bar! No problem. The front desk clerk directs me to a small family owned pub near the hotel and across the street.
I must have turned left when I should have turned right out of the hotel (a problem we lefty's have with directions) cause I could not find the "family owned pub". But I did find a bar that I figured might be the place, and besides I was getting pretty tired walking. How could you go wrong going into a place named Mary's?
Plus I figured it must be the right place as they declared on the door - that the place was bicycle friendly....
I should have read the fine print.... seems a biker in Oregon does not use the same the kind of bike like we ride on the Bike Across America tour!!!
Well, I open the door, see the place is half full with bikers (thank god I did not have my lycra bike pants on) and decide I am now committed to buying at least one beer (the truth be known, I didn't have the balls to walk back out).
Order my first beer from "Rooni" short for Pepperoni - who I later find out is an Italian from NJ. I decided he liked Harley Davidson's by the number of HD tattoos on his arms. (Brian from Perth has a Campangelo bicycle logo tattoo on his leg - how cool is this).
Seated next to me is "Stick" a really strange dud with a ponytail and drinking straight, no-brand bar whiskey. Down the bar from Stick is Bobbi a 25 year old woman with huge breasts (more on this later) and two locals whose names I cannot reveal - clearly these two guys are on a first name basis with Whitey Bulger.
The juke box is blasting heavy metal, really, really loudly. And that is when the fun began.
All of a sudden Rooni pulls out a container of dices and starts shaking it. All the bar patrons begin throwing dollar bills down on the bar. Rooni ask if I want to play and I politely say no. I find out "no" is not an acceptable answer as Rooni takes out another dollar and "puts me in the pot". I am now committed and they suggest I pick up my money and move closer to the action.
It's a simple game really, you have five dice with five throws (I think) and you have to roll a 6,5 and a 4. If you roll the 6,5,4 you are in the game and you then add up the sum of the two remaining dice and if you get the high score - you collect the pot.
Must have been beginners luck - cause I rolled a 6,5,4 and immediately rolled a {sum of} 10 on the remaining two dice. I am the winner of the pot and with some fear pull the pot in front of me. I decide the right thing to do is throw a buck in for Rooni - repaying him for his kind deed. "Stick" meanwhile orders another whiskey and stands up excited for the next dice round (he might be ADD) - which I again win.
Two for two. Then three for three. Finally, in round four I fail to roll the required 6,5,4 and pass the dice. Thank God!!!! Unfortunately everybody else fails to roll the right numbers and the pot gets another dollar bill contribution. Now the stakes are high with a double pot and all the "local" good luck charms start to appear.
"Stick" starts rolling up his dollar bills into what looks like cigarette shapes and starts shoving them up in his really dirty baseball cap next to his not quite clean ponytail (I do believe I learned in high school that the US Mint adds some kind of bacteria prevention chemical when they mint our bills). The Mint must have done this to minimize the damage from these kinds of activities.
Bobbi starts taking dollar bills and putting them down the front of her shirt. And it appears that one of the "will go nameless" guys has a tradition of then retrieving these bills. Not a pretty sight for sure.
Bobbi gets another Margarita - tall glass, tequila, lime with the only other ingredient being ice. Another "pass round" stakes are getting high..... My "only going to order one beer" is now replaced with my third beer.
So that's when it gets exciting! Rooni it seems has another tradition. He goes to the end of the bar and rolls the dice down the bar in such a way that he then uses Bobbi's very large breasts as a backboard. The dice bounce off Bobbi (or should I say boobie) and land on the bar where Rooni promptly gets a "6".
Another roll and he gets a "good bounce" off of Bobbi and get a 5. Picks up the dice and starts his 3rd roll. The dice leave the shaker and start down the top of the bar heading toward Bobbi. All hell breaks loose as the dice hit Bobbi and fly in all directions!!!! Everybody gets up to retrieve the dice and we are missing one of the dice.
One of the "will go nameless" guys swears that the missing dice went in the bar's ice container, another guy says it bounced and went flying toward the juke box (Van Halen, yea).
I think I know where it is - but I ain't saying. And I don't think Bobbi knows because the last Margarita she ordered was clearly not her first. But in any case there is no way in hell that I am not going to suggest where the dice is - as I am not about to retrieve this from the front of Bobbi's (or again boobies) shirt.
The lost dice it seems is the indication that it is time for a cigarette break. Everybody heads out the back of the bar for a quick smoke. Except Rooni who is looking for a new dice and Bobbi who must not smoke or possibly cannot get up from her seat. And me the "bicycle dude" from Cape Cod who still is not going to suggest he knows where the dice is.
After a while, Rooni finds a replacement dice and smoke break end. Rooni decides "damn with local tradition" and starts rolling the dice without using Bobbi for support.
To make a long story short - Yup I win the round; the big round with all the money. It's getting late and I am supposed to be meeting some guys at the hotel for dinner. H'mmmmm how to pick up the money and leave - graciously.
Thankfully "Stick" declared another smoke break before the next round. I see my chance for an exit and decide that the smart (safe) thing to do is to leave the money on the bar and give it to Rooni as a tip and tell the my new buddies I'll see them tomorrow after our bike ride.
I promised to bring in the rest of my "gang" dressed in full "ride colors" in for some beers.
Should be fun!
