I damned near blew off this ride - I damned near blow off Myrtle Beach every year, actually. Problem is, it's so close and the beer is so cold. I knew my old friend Tom who owned Bullfeathers had sold it a while back, but I was promised, last time I heard anyway, that Carm and Josh were still there so the place would be about the same, except now Tom could enjoy the party and come on the other side of the bar and bullshit a little.

So, Wednesday I make up my mind to scoot down real fast - nothing new there - and visit for one night, get my pin and get home before my old lady counts it as a road trip. Hell, if I'm lucky and I cut the grass before I go, she may not notice I'm gone, either. Tom tells me to come on down and stay at his place, but he's got some shitty news - my old friends have been canned at the bar, and the new owner has become somewhat of a $#%@!.. So come Thursday at noon, I close up the office, lock the door, leave a note for my wife on the keyboard and head south once again. The plan was to meet up at Beach Monkeys on 707 in Murrells Inlet and he'd tell me the whole story.

It only took 4-1/2 hours, going my favorite standby route, (haul-ass on the interstate to Lumberton, NC, then do Hwy 41 south into South Carolina where the helmet goes in the sidebag, Hwy 9 to 401, south into Conway and 544/707 to Murrells Inlet). I can do it with my eyes closed by now. I'm in town a bit early, so I pop over to his place and listen to the story on how sour things went at Bullfeathers lately.

Shari was heading off to work a midnight shift at the hospital, so Tom and I, along with cousin Paul, headed out to J. Michaels in Garden City to visit Josh at his new gig. Carm works across the street at Gregs, and came over at 6 to visit. I had plans to meet up with some friends at 7:30 at Bullfeathers, and it was too late to change the meeting place - I really didn't wanna go back down there anymore after hearing what kinda crap she was dishing out. Didn't wanna bail out on the guy, coming from Alabama and all, so I hopped the scooter and drove the 10 minutes to Bullfeathers. (Pic #2) I put another last pic of the sign out front as a reminder to anyone NOT to bother going there anymore. May just have to go through the whole site now and delete all references to it! Anyway - so there I was waiting for Dave to tap me on the shoulder - I had no clue what he looked like - and I make a little pit stop in the bathroom...(Pic #03) Now, I ask you - faced with being really pissed off (pun intended) that my favorite bar is no longer, and standing in the men's room with these two options...what would YOU do? I refuse to go any further with this train of thought on the grounds it may tend to incriminate me.

I spent about 15 minutes bullshitting with Dave from Birmingham, Alabama - he rode over with his wife, daughter, her friend and a few other friends for Bike Week, and we had a beer together (pics #04 & 05). Warned him to avoid ever coming here again and headed back to J. Michaels to finish hanging with Tom and the Weasels from Pennsylvania (pics #06 & 09). The Weasels are a bunch I've met up with a few times before at bullfeathers - they also decided to hang out somewhere else from now on. The group is self-described as a drinking club with a motorcycle problem. Kinda like these guys! Pics #07 & 08 are the parking lot band they had set up at J. Michaels, the lil brunette is one of the weaselettes.

 
We hung out here for a bit, heeaded over to Friday's for a Jack Daniel's Steak with crumbled blue cheese on it, and had a few more beers. By now my 'two-beer buzz" was being stretched way past it's illegal limit, so I follow Tom back over to his place, stopping off at the Scotchman's for another 12-pack and some munchies, and catch up with old friends watching late night TV. No I didn't spend the evening at Suck, Bang, Blow, or close (fill-in-the-blank) bar while in Myrtle Beach for bike rally. I go to rally to see old friends and prefer to shoot the shit with 'em instead. Not-to-early the next morning, after coffee with the just off-work Shari, I pack up the bike (#10), drag Tom's ass outta bed for a picture (#11) and head off to Waffle House for Breakfast - gotta have one Waffle House Omelette on each trip ya know. By 9am...early by any bike week standards... I pull up to the old SBB (#12) and wait for the vendor booths to open - I'm looking for a replacement for my old denim signature hat - this one's gonna have to retire this year I think. While walking around, I bump into one of the riders from the "Get outta town" ride I did the first of May - seems he recognized my hat...sheeeesh - may ought not to change it! (See pic #04)

I got a solid black one this time, and after a soaking and a chance to form to my head, I'll start wearing it after I get home...can't give up this one too damned soon ya know. I needed to run back over to J. Michaels to pick up the cell phone I dropped the night before - it pays to know the bartender at the places you drink at - and headed up to HD-Spokes in North Myrtle Beach... I was dreading the ride through North Myrtle Beach, but found Hwy 31 to be an excellent bypass around all that mess. Pick it up right where 17Bus and 17Byp merge again north of Myrtle Beach - takes you all the way around North Myrtle Beach. Before I got off the bike, I hear someone hollaring at me - turning around, I find a guy I recall shooting a picture of up on the outer banks a month or two ago... epitome of a biker dude, too - I think it's the only shot like it on that ride if ya wanna go check it out. We talked for a few minutes after I found a place to park (#19) - tough to do hauling a trailer at HD-Spokes. Pics #13-16 are just random shots around HD-Spokes.

Pics #18 & 19 are of the brother of a good friend, Bart. He's the bass player in the patio band playing this afternoon. I knew he played here often, but it was just luck that I caught him here this trip. Lastly, Pic #20 is a familiar stop for me...both heading south and back north - the traditional helmet shuffle. Good news is the yahoo's in the state capital actually are considering, seriously this time, permitting us to make our own minds up about wearing helmets.

Not much else happened - was a fast 28 hour round-trip. Qualifies for the Myrtle Beach 2004 pin, don't it?

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