The Legend of RB Continues

So it's near the end of Bike Week and traffic snarls up and down the main streets in town. I was with Ranger Buddy, going to lunch after working on a leak.

Some bikers were in the lane he wanted to turn into. It was very hard to get out of one lane into another because all the vehicles--cars and bikes--were bottlenecking to get into the freeway.

Suddenly, RB heard this gruff voice. "Hey, hey, mister!"

He turned and it was one of the bikers. "Yeah?"

"Do you live around here?"

RB rolled his eyes. "I'm in a work truck, sitting in traffic on a Saturday. Of course I live around here." (At that moment, I was thinking that he was going to say something rude, like "your week's up" or something like that, LOL)

"Do you know of any other way to International Drive without going on the freeway?"

RB nodded. "If you let me get in front of you, you can follow me down the back way on a scenic route," he told them wryly.

The biker said, "Great!" He signaled to the others and Ranger Buddy drove his truck in front of them. There were about ten bikers. He leaned out the window and roared, "Follow me, gang!" and started to puttputt down toward the country roads.

We went down the side streets and at one point I looked back. Holy smokes. There must have been fifty bikers following our beat-up old Toyota! Lord knows what the homeowners that live back there thought if they'd looked out of their windows!

Ranger Buddy took a look at the rearview mirror and started singing, "Leader of the pack! Vrroooooom! Vrrrrrroooom! Vrrrrrrrroooom!" all the way to International Drive. I joined in. It was quite a sight. We had a convoy!

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