'07 3-Day recap

We had pulled into camp after working intersections all day for day one of the Atlanta 3-day walk. I immediately got off my bike, went to get my bag off the truck and set up my tent. The sooner I could get it set up the sooner I could get a shower and dinner and relax.

Crew chief: “You all have to put pink flies over your tents so you look like everyone else.”

WTF? So, now we have to undo and pack up two tents just so we look like everyone else. Not used to being ordered around I was a little torqued.

Sidebar: The moto-crew always brings their own tents for the 3-day because we all like to camp together next to our bikes and some of us do not want to sleep with anyone. If you signed up for a 3-day tent then you must share with someone and camp in the general population.
(motorcycles and tents wrapped in PINK)

Tent covered in pink I walked over to the bike to organize stuff when-
Crew chief: “We’re all going to dinner RIGHT NOW!”

I turned to my buddy K and said, “Damn, what’s up her ass? I wasn’t aware we were signing up for the Army!”

Sidebar: K was very instrumental this weekend in keeping me from burying our crew chief up to her neck in the sand of the volleyball court next to our campsite.

And, this continued the rest of the weekend. Up at 4 and “Get on your bikes NOWWWW and set up!” and “Get off your bikes NOWWWW and go there!”

Me to K: “This is bs! I don’t think I’m signing up next year”

Crew moral seemed a little low this year because of tension with the crew chief. Supposedly, the 3-day was thinking of getting rid of the moto-crew, had to fight hard to keep it this year and we were under the microscope to look good which equaled our crew chief ordering us around like minions.

However, once out on the route all that bs just melted away once you glimpsed that first smiling face of a walker coming over the hill towards you. Turning up the disco music on the boom box and putting your hands in the air you see 20 other people responding. By the time they get to your intersection you have them clapping and singing as you stop traffic to allow them to cross safely.

Yeah, that’s what it’s all about!

At six the next morning I gulp two slugs of coffee before running to my bike and hopping on because 28 running motorcycles are waiting for me to get my shit together. I know I’m pushing it with the chief. We had all been up at 4:30 trying to figure out how to pack (2) tents in the dark and find the gear truck to load our bags. It’s the last day of the walk and several walkers are tired, hurting and have low morale. They have been sleeping in tents, too, eating the same food as us but also walking 20 miles a day so they are even more tired than us.

As the last group of women hobble toward my intersection that morning I reach over and turn up the music, adjust my pink cowboy hat and start dancing. I see smiles, their steps pick up a little. One is walking with a cane and a shaved head. I am not sure she is going to make it all the way to Piedmont Park but right now I’m sure as hell going to try to make her smile.

As the last of the walkers pass I hop on my bike and ride to lunch and then to work my afternoon intersection until closing ceremony. I’m at 14th and Peachtree – one of the busiest intersections in Midtown. I’m blowing my whistle (hard) and stopping drivers who are very angry that I did so to let women and men who had walked 59+ miles and almost to their destination cross the intersection. They were cheering, singing, dancing, hobbling, limping, skipping, and dragging.

Anything to get there.

It was almost time to meet up for closing ceremony and as I picked up my stuff to take to my bike I looked up and there was my walker with the cane from this morning. She had made it! I went to give her a personal escort accross the street.

Once at the park we are lined up waiting for the walkers to come through. Again, we see their smiling faces coming up the hill – only this time more of them condensed together. There were 2700 of them this year in Atlanta who had raised 1.6 million dollars.

Today my hands are sore from clapping, I am horse from yelling “Whoooo!” and my knees hurt from standing. But, do I mind?

Hellllllllllllll no! Bring it (the-f) on! I am still glowing from remembering all those smiling faces.

Oh, and what crew bs? Guess I’m signing up for next year again. (and bringing my shovel for the volleyball pit ;-)