Finally everything about something went right for us. Our beautiful bike was in top shape, the weather couldn’t have been better, and we were prepared for a Saturday full of riding around Middle Georgia as participants in the 2004 Charity Poker Run to benefit the local Sheriff’s Departmental Children’s Home.

After receiving an invitation to ride with a group of fellow motorcyclists a few days earlier, we decided to take advantage of the beautiful post-hurricane Ivan weather and accept. Around noon on Saturday, September 18th, we donned our matching BMW riding apparel, downed a bottle of water for hydration, pooled our small bills to cover the entry fee, and hit the road. Our first stop was a mere mile from my place, to meet up with two of the other bikes in our party –- both happened to be Harley lovers, very amiable ones at that. We proceeded to pick up the rest of our riding company nearby, and were joined by a couple of Hondas — a Goldwing and a Shadow, as well as a Valkyrie. Quite the diverse caravan, we made our way to the Agricultural Center and National Fairgrounds in Perry, GA to register and formally begin our journey.

Shortly after our registration was complete, and the first hand drawn for our poker card, we were on the road again, along with 190 other bikes, heading for our first stop, none other than Hooters, located in Warner Robins, GA. After drawing another poker hand, Jerry and I entered the house of hooters for the first and most likely last time — perhaps it was inevitable, though I like to think it wasn’t. It was just as tacky as I might have imagined, and accurate to what the proud advertisements declare. Some bikers looked much too at home there…good thing my Honda-riding-honey isn’t one to be impressed by the site of ample skin and orange spandex. He is so unique.

We survived the Hooters exposure, and made our way to destination number two: a new courthouse in Crawford County. There wasn’t much to this place, despite a nice oak tree that offered sweet moments of shade. After blindly choosing our third poker card, I was assured that our hand was no better than a fistful of go to jail cards in monopoly. Prior to this remark, I was oblivious to the rules of the game and assumed we were playing something similar to Bingo — too bad we weren’t, or we might have had a chance.

With the sun beaming down in full force, we strapped on our helmets and motored to our third stop, the Butler, GA fire station. While in route we were entertained by several miles of small towns and tall, tall evergreens. Upon arrival, we eagerly stretched our legs, and stamped our nearly complete poker hand sheet. With only an hour left in our suggested time allotment, we quickly geared up again to return to our fourth and final destination, the same place where we began hours ago in Perry, GA.

By the time we reached Perry, our bottoms were just beginning to threaten the dreaded state of numb, but it was only a threat –- this was not a bad amount of miles for a passenger, nor a primary rider as I was assured by my own driver. Here we were greeted by grilled hotdogs and beefy hamburgers with slaw…what else? I took no part in this, but enjoyed watching Jerry scarf down a dog. A couple of people in our party won several raffle prizes and money, but nothing for us –- disappointing, though not surprising. After an incredibly long thank you from the head of the Sheriff’s Department, we said our goodbyes and made our way home. After a quick time of rest and yummy Manhattans, we rewarded ourselves at Outback Steakhouse, icing a great day of riding together with a greasy treat of Bloomin’ Onion. Only a day of 145 miles and over four hours of riding deserves an end like that.