A few years back, in the mid to late 70′s, a big group of us would occasionally ride out 25 1/2 miles to the Blackwater River, set up camp and party for days. At times there could be more than 50 bikes form the surrounding areas out there. People would bring big tents, coolers, grills, cots and a change of clothes. Others, like me, would tie beer, hot dogs and a sleeping bag to their sissy bar and go. We had this favorite secluded spot on the river with a high bank on one side and a white sandy beach on the other. The parties were more fun than I can possibly relate. Guys would fire weapons at flotsam in the water, girls would dance at 9 a.m. ( they never went to sleep the night before ), drunks would fall from the high bank into the river and the trees would rumble from the sound of drag pipes. There was an ebb and flow to the festivites but they never stopped. Occasionally it would become necessary to make a run for more “supplies”. One the second night of one of these parties, Cack decided that he needed to get to town as soon as possible to “get his bike”. I don’t know how he got out there without it. He was going to borrow Root’s 750 Honda to go back into town. He asked me to ride with him so that I could bring the honda back to Root. Mikey decided to ride along with us. Now remember that this was the second night of a very heavy party and we were a bit buzzed ( isn’t that when you make your best decisions? ). Anyway, off we go… out of the woods… onto highway 10… and finally back out onto the interstate. The night was warm and clear and the highways were near vacant. I noticed that Cack began that tell tale nod. Just a little at first until it looked as if he were nodding a giant “yes” to some invisible little gremlin on the gas tank. Then he just laid his face on the tank, dropped his arms to both sides of the bike and went to sleep. I reached over him, grabbed the handlebars and kept riding. Mikey looked over at us with no expression. He just stared for a few seconds and then looked straight ahead. A few minutes later the honda began to cough and ran out of gas. I pulled in the clutch and coasted onto the side of the road. We got Cack off of the bike, found an empty bottle, drained some gas from Mikey’s panhead and were trying to figure out how to tie Cack to the honda when he appears out of the darkness. “Let’s go”, he says. “I’m awake now”. So off we go again. Mikey and I made it back to the party early the next morning. Cack wasn’t there. I wonder if he nodded out when he finally got to that girl’s house? You know he’ll never tell!