While I was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, I got out and did lots of different things in my time off. On quite a few occasions, I went with some of my friends. One such occasion that I posted about was when I went to Providence Canyon State Park. On that occasion, I went with my friends Robert, a local guy from Macon, Georgia, and two other imports Jim and Mark. We had a blast on that trip. And after we realized that we weren’t in trouble, we decided to organize another trip. Our next adventure was to be a trip to Six Flags over Georgia. On the appointed weekend we headed up to Six Flags over Georgia, which was just outside of Atlanta. We were going to make a whole day of it. To get the most bang for our buck, we decided to use the overhead trams that crisscrossed the park to get from one side of the park to the other without having to fight the crowds. That worked out pretty well and it allowed us to take occasional alcohol breaks. As when we went to Providence Canyon state Park, my friend Robert once again drove because he was most familiar with the roads. About five in the afternoon, we found ourselves in a strange predicament. We were running from the park rent-a-cops. We weren’t exactly sure why we were running from them. We just knew that we were. Somebody had fingered us for something. We knew that much. We didn’t know what, we just knew that we were running. We decided to split up and get out of the park. I made it to an exit gate first and got out unnoticed. I headed toward my friend Bob’s car. I waited there for the others to show up. A little while later, Bob came running over all out of breath and asked if I had seen Mark and Jim. Well, of course, I hadn’t. Not since we were all together in the park and we had decided to split up. Bob is one of those guys who panics easily. Of course, so am I. It doesn’t take much to get me into panic mode. We were imagining the worst. What if they got caught? What in the hell did we even do? Did we do something wrong? The only thing I could think of was the alcohol. But that really couldn’t be construed as doing something wrong, could it? While we were standing in the parking lot in panic mode, our old friends from the motorcycle gang rode by. I flagged them down. I actually felt kind of excited and kind of glad to see them. I’m not sure how Bob felt, and I can honestly say I didn’t really care. I know that seems kinda harsh, but that’s the way it was. I think Chains was happy to see me too. At least, she sure seemed happy to see me. She was hugging me and kissing me and basically making an embarrassing public scene right there in the parking lot. I asked where they were going and Chains told me, “We’re riding down through Macon. Then, we will continue on South on Interstate 75 to Valdosta. Then, we will swing back north on Interstate 75 to Tifton. At Tifton, we’ll head west on Highway 520 up through Albany to Columbus. We are on a three-day ride. Do you have enough time off to ride with us?” I replied, “I do. We are on a four-day training holiday. The whole post is on a four-day holiday. So, I could ride with you.” While we were talking, Mark and Jim came walking over to the car. They started talking to Bob. I told Chains that I wanted to listen in on the conversation. Jim was explaining, “Mark and I had to hide for a while because the rent-a-cops almost caught us.” I asked, “Did you ever find out why they were chasing us?” “Yeah. Some punk kids said we beat them up and took their money and jumped in front of them in one of the concession lines.” “We did what? What proof did they have?” “They just said it was four guys in T-shirts and jeans that kinda looked like us.” “Four guys in T-shirts and jeans that kinda looked like us? Hell, that describes half of the people in this goddamn park. That is such bullshit. Goddamn rent-a-cops. They ain’t worth a shit.” “You damn straight. So, I see your friends are here. Are you coming with us, or are you going with them?” “I think I’ll be riding with them.” “Yeah. I figured. When I saw them sitting here, while we were walking across the parking lot, I figured they were just waiting for us to show up so you could ride off with them.” “Well, it’s cool, right? Bob, are you okay with it?” Everyone was okay with me taking off with Chains and the gang, so it was settled. I was going to earn my riding colors. Bob mentioned that he and the other guys were going to drive to Macon and stay overnight at his house. So, we told them we would ride along with them, as far as Macon. Bob looked at me and asked, “Yo man, I know how you met Chains and everything. After all, I was there too. What I want to know is, do you really like her?” I looked at him and said, “Bob, I can honestly say I’ll probably never marry her, but I really do like her.” “Do you love her?” “Love is such a strong word. I don’t think I would use that word to describe how I feel about her.” “I think I understand. Have fun.” “And this from the guy who threw me to the wolves.” “Hey. I didn’t throw you to the wolves. I was just trying to save my own ass.” “Yeah. I know. I was just giving you a hard time. I don’t know why nobody picked you to be their bitch. You might have liked it. Look at me. I’m enjoying life.” “Like I said man, have fun.” So, I rode off with Chains and the gang, while Bob, Jim, and Mark headed to Macon. We had beat the rent-a-cops at Six Flags with the help of Chains and the gang. Then, I rode off with Chains and the gang to “terrorize” Macon, Valdosta, Tipton, and other points in South Georgia. I hadn’t been on a truly long-distance ride with the gang before. I was finally earning my colors. While it was true that the trip to Six Flags had turned out to be an exercise in futility, events that transpired after that really set the bar for that weekend.
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