Much to my surprise, the motorcycle gang contingent was already awake and checking out of Bedrock City. They sat on their motorcycles outside the office of the campground located next to the bathrooms. Remembering the advice given to me by friends for my trip to New York earlier that year, I kept my gaze toward the ground as I weaved in between the impressive Harley Davidson motorcycles, mounted by their intimidating owners.
When I reached the bathroom I was surprised to find a four digit push-button combination on the door. Great! Beth checked us in the day before and had the receipt with the info on it in her purse. I didn’t want to walk all the way back to Bone 19 and wake her up just so I could take a damn shower! I stood, visibly frustrated.
My eyes eventually stopped on a woman sitting on the back of one of the mammoth cycles. She was in her late forties, but looked much older with rough, tan skin, a few missing teeth and her hair smattered with gray.
Seeing my dilemma she said, with what I can only say was the sweetest, most angelic voice I’ve ever heard, “the code is 6927.” The sweet sound of her voice was so unexpected that I stood motionless, staring at her. She smiled sweetly, exposing her bad dental work. “Give it a try!” she said.
I smiled back, turned and entered the code. The door opened. As I entered the bathroom and prepared for the shower I gave a warm and thankful wave to my cycle gang assistant.
As I undressed near the shower stall I was accosted by a sign overhead that read “Wasting water is a violation of the law. If you see anyone wasting water, please inform the management. Violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”
It goes to show you just how valuable the commodity of water is in a desert.
Intimidated, I entered the shower stall to find the shower was coin-operated. Another sign read “50 cents for 5 minutes of water.” I rifled through my pockets and put in my two quarters. The water at first trickled out, then gushed over my unclean body. Instilled with an abundance of fear and a healthy respect for the law, I was determined not to get arrested for wasting water. Having never timed myself at home, I had absolutely no idea how long my required shower activities took, so I raced through it with blazing speed.
Soap, lather, rinse. Shampoo, lather, rinse.
Time left? Four minutes, twenty seven seconds.
So, here I was in a state where they prosecute people for wasting water, standing under a shower head with nothing to do but waste water for another four minutes and twenty seven seconds. With each and every drop my rap sheet grew.Afraid someone would walk in and rat me out, I did what anyone else in my position would do… I washed myself again. And again. And again. For the last minute under the criminalizing element, I acted out washing my hair, but didn’t use any soap. The last thing I wanted was to be in mid-rinse when the timer ran out.
I would have cracked under the pressure.
As I walked out of the bathroom I was exceedingly clean. My haggle-toothed biker chick was still there, now flanked by two manly, tan behemoths, looking grumpy.
Apparently Haggle Tooth had educated them on my door opening logistic issues and they looked at me and snickered slightly. Haggle Tooth, however, gave another warm smile and said with her voice from the heavens “Have a great day!”
“You too,” I said.
Other bikers chimed in. “You headed to the Canyon?”
“Yeah! We’re hiking down it today!” I excitedly replied.
“You’ll love it! Have a great time!” a burly biker said as I moved through the group. It was odd. It was like I had suddenly become one of their clan. They all chatted with me as I walked through their myriad of bikes. They were nice and kind and friendly and scary looking, all at once.
“Drive safely!” I said as I headed back to Bone 19. “You too!” they shouted over the start of their motorcycles.
I chuckled to myself as I reached the tent. “They’ll never believe me,” I said of my sleeping companions. I kept my sudden membership into a motorcycle gang to myself as my travel mates slowly awakened from their overnight slumber.
********
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 26, (Text, Audio) Waste Not, Arrest NotGoin' Out To Cally - Part 25, (Text, Audio) Nightlife At The BC
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 24, (Text, Audio) Bedless In Bedrock
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 23, (Text, Audio) Desert Rain
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 22, (Text, Audio) Bedrock City
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 21, (Text, Audio) The Outhouse
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 20, (Text, Audio) Riding The Hump
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 19, (Text, Audio) Bob Hope, Lil’ Debbie And Restless Gods
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 18, (Text, Audio) Unlevel Headed
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 17, (Text, Audio) Starry Night, Confusing Night
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 16, (Text, Audio) Three Beds + Four People = Oh Crap
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 15, (Text, Audio) Masculinity At Stake
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 14, (Text, Audio) Texas: Latin For Shoot Me Now
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 13, (Text, Audio) Cars, Crossroads and Cosmic Convergence
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 12, (Text, Audio) Tumbleweed Dreams
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 11, (Text, Audio) Wet, Rinse, Repeat
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 10, (Text, Audio) Divine Misdirection
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 09, (Text, Audio) Getting Nowhere Fast
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 08, (Text, Audio) The Cock Crows Nine
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 07, (Text, Audio) Is Jackass A Sign?
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 06, (Text, Audio) Leftovers
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 05, (Text, Audio) The Kiss Of Friendship
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 04, (Text, Audio) Scholastic Intimacy
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 03, (Text, Audio) Space Invaders
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 02, (Text, Audio) The Fourth Wheel
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 01, (Text, Audio) The Seed Planted
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