Frenchy's Rant

Plans changed, and in a hurry.

Monday Night RAW, the WWE’s flagship show (and a primary sponsor of these motorcycling adventures), was scheduled to broadcast from the Pepsi Arena in Denver. This convenient venue’s close proximity to some very good roads is the reason a lot of the crew planned to fly in early and ride. However, in a move that surprised everyone, even the team owner, the Denver Nuggets remained in the playoffs against the Lakers. And game four of their series was scheduled for… Monday night of course.

Everyone knew about this schedule conflict before leaving Oklahoma City, but the agreed on alternate plan was to tape RAW in Denver on Sunday. No problem, right?

Wrong.

Just to stir the pot a little, the Lakers offered the WWE use of the vacant Staples Center in Los Angeles. The WWE, always happy to stir the pot, accepted. Now, the show, still three days away, was suddenly being held a thousand miles to the west. The bigger problem for us, Fiona was already en route, scheduled to land in Denver in a few hours.

It seemed like a big problem, but really, it wasn’t that bad, at least for us. For the WWE travel department, it was a certified nightmare, having to locate then rebook over 100 technicians, countless talent and deal with all the rest of the logistical issues that are involved with a WWE event, all in a matter of days.

Abi and I booked round trip flights from Denver to LA and back. Problem solved. The poor crew guys had to cancel their rentals, but we were already so close to Denver, Sleeping beauty was on her way in, and Mike already had his bike, so what the hell? Let’s ride, and worry about the rest when it comes!

Fiona landed, we scooped her up and raced from the airport to Mike’s house for beer and BBQ. I have to give Fiona credit, she’s gotten very good, excellent in fact, at traveling with one little side case bag and her helmet – no easy accomplishment for most women I know. And, somehow, she still manages to have lots of fashion options for evenings out on the town.

My friend Mike is a very interesting guy. He is also a freelance television production dude, and oftenworks with Abi and I on various shows. As sometimes, but not too often happens, working with people like Mike leads to a friendship outside of work. For example, Mike and I spent a day Cheating Death not too long ago.

Among other things, Mike is a pilot, an avid four wheeling enthusiast, and used to be a motorcycling nut. Mike hadn’t ridden in a few years, but when I told him about this plan, he immediately found a guy that would rent him a VStrom for the weekend, including delivery and pickup.

Aside for rekindling his riding passion, Mike’s latest ongoing adventure, along with his lovely wife Ingrid, is parenthood. A little over a year ago, Mike and Ingrid welcomed their son Lucas into the world.

Why Do These Kind Of Pictures Make Me Nervous?

Realizing the beer supply was low, we took a walk to the store to restock.

Another problem solved, and we spent the night emptying the carriage and laughing.

The next morning, after a customary breakfast of Tylenol and a group shot, we geared up and headed out once again, the mountain town of Steamboat Springs in our sights.

On the way out, Mike made a quick detour to show us the fun toys in his airplane hanger, nicknamed Mike’s Man Cave.

An unassuming looking place, Mike’s Man Cave is probably the only place in the world you can find a working experimental airplane, a ready-to-destroy Toyota 4×4, a unicycle with a flat tire and a spray booth all under one roof.

Is This Foreshadowing More Fun For Another Day?

Outside the Man Cave, we mounted up. Before climbing on the back of Rain Cloud Follows, Sleeping Beauty cracked up, saying, “Look at you three on those big bikes! You guys look like… Team Tiptoe!”

Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny!

Finally, Team Tiptoe was on its way to Steamboat.

We enjoyed swirling through some fine Colorado back roads, a welcome change after the curve-challenged straightness of the past two days. Any worries I might have had about Mike’s riding rust were quickly erased, as he led us on a fantastic tour of his home state. The relaxing mindset that can only come from tearing through sweeping corner after sweeping corner soon settled over Team Tiptoe.

And then, another tragedy struck. Who would think that on a motorcycle trip, the most grievous injury of the week would happen at, of all places, lunch?

Part III – HERE!

… must come to an end, including this long ramble of a ride that started waay back in March with The Road to Wrestlemania. What began in my adopted home of California following the least straight lines I could find to Houston, ultimately, 3140 miles later, landed in the garage of my friend Keith (a.k.a Unleaded) in Oklahoma City, as any good trip should.

This landing was a temporary one, as all landings in Oklahoma City should be. Work, life, and other various side projects interrupted Le Grand Tour du Fromage as such things inevitably do. My girlfriend Fiona (a.k.a. Sleeping Beauty) and I escaped for a week of riding in Australia, my riding buddy Abi (a.k.a Dark Meat Snack) caught up on sleep, baseball and sleep; while, to help us keep things on track, Unleaded graciously flew to Houston to helpfully retrieve Abi’s Concours and return it to Oklahoma City for him.

In a personal, soft-n-mushy aside; during this interim period, I became the proud godfather of Keith’s beautiful daughter Danica. It was a special and important occasion; so important I even dug out my one good tie and, after a few unsuccessful attempts, remembered how to tie it.

My Goddaughter Danica

Six weeks later, that same old burning itch had returned. Fortunately the pills the doctor prescribed cleared that little condition up quickly! After a week spent broadcasting WWE TV shows concluded somewhere or other, Dark Meat and I scratched that itch by returning to Okey Dokey Hokey Pokey City, turned ourselves around, ready to take our ride full circle, back to California. That’s what it’s all about!

The Godfather with Godchild, Neighbor Ron, Unleaded and Dark Meat Snack, ready to run for the border.

While I didn’t have a Map-kin drawn up for this half of the ride, plenty of planning went into the return journey. Fiona had two separate flights booked to join the ride on two separate occasions. Abi and I had to be in Denver by Friday for the WWE extravaganza the following week. Since the show was in Denver, a bunch of the crew that ride motorcycles were planning to fly in early, rent some bikes, and ride the Rocky Mountains with us.

I never knew what the word ‘awry’ meant until I started making ambitious plans like these.

Our little motorcycle gang rolled out of OKC heading for the hills of Colorado. Unfortunately, Keith and Ron had to turn around after a few hours and return home, but it was nice to be accompanied out of the city.

On The Road Again!

Oklahoma reminded me of Dark Meat’s home state of Florida, except with less curves. Florida boasts 11 curves in 318 miles, which, thanks to the Daytona International Speedway, beats western Oklahoma by exactly four.

At Ron and Keith’s turn-around time, Abi and I had a decision to make. Press on, or start looking for a place to stay for the night. I found a place called the Pit Stop that looked like it’d be pretty cheap, but, for some reason, Abi wanted to press on.

Yeah, maybe not.

After fond farewells, we drove in a straight line straight through the very straight Oklahoma Panhandle, turning exactly twice to avoid a farmer’s field. Boise City became our home for the night, and, at $59 a room, I’m able to say the motel was an ever-so-slight improvement over the Pit Stop.

The next morning we turned north on a direct heading for Denver, cautiously watching for large animals lumbering across the remainder of Oklahoma’s flat expanses.

A few hours later, hours filled with more straight, flat roads and wandering minds, we saw the best thing there is to see in Western Oklahoma.

Sleeping Beauty’s flight was scheduled to land in Denver at five. My friend Mike, who lives in Colorado already had picked up his rental and was waiting for us to arrive at his house for ‘beer and BBQ.’ The rest of the WWE motorcycle ‘gang’ had staggered arrivals throughout the night, ready to pick up their rentals and ride the Rockies for a few fun days. Since we were in a little bit of a time crunch, naturally we got stuck in construction traffic. Never fails.

Dark Meat Nap did what he does best in these situations, or to be honest, what he does in most situations, shut down to conserve his energy.

While sitting still, stopped in traffic, my phone started ringing. I checked it, and had three texts, two voicemails and five missed calls. Normally, that’s the amount of phone traffic I have in a month, so I knew something – something big – was up…. and I also knew that somehow, the best laid plans were about to go awry.

Part II – HERE!

Yes, SPOT didn’t work in Australia, not at all. Disappointing, but for a change, it wasn’t something that I did wrong. The good people at SPOT assure me they fucked up, and they further assure me that it’s fixed.

So, to track the continuation of the Road Away From Wrestlemania, from Oklahoma City to Denver and beyond, click the link below:

Working SPOT Tracker link

I assured the good people at SPOT that if it doesn’t work this time, their little orange tracking toy will be getting a new name.