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big-pappas-world · 6 years

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The Origin Story

It reminded me of one of the fireworks that were around when I was a kid.

The kind you would nail to the telephone pole.Light it on fire and it would spin, giving off colorful sparks, or maybe not. About half the time it would get hung up, stop spinning and threaten to start the creosote soaked pole on fire.

This time it just happened to be a lit cigarette that some asshole threw out their car window and now it was headed straight for me.

I’m going about 70 mph, on I-5, in the left lane, on a sunny summer afternoon, with my future Bride and camping gear. We are heading out on day 1 of our first road trip together.

I watched helplessly as the cigarette butt tumbled thru the air, and with some fluke of aerodynamics went straight down my shirt.

I’ve been stung by yellow jackets before while riding and that is painful enough, but the burning embers of a cigarette inside your clothing, stuck to your bare skin is next level.

Somehow I managed to cross all four lanes and take the immediate exit, skidding to a stop while simultaneously hitting the Kill switch and kickstand. I hopped off the bike and stripped of my clothes. Remember that my future Bride is on the back of the bike and has absolutely no idea what the hell is going on until she sees the cigarette butt still stuck to my belly. I don’t know how she kept a straight face. It must have been a helluva sight.

The rest of the trip was just flat out fun. Some misty rain on the Oregon coast caused us to get a room for a night or two but in those days we were “tent campers”, and my burn healed up in no time.

Then there is the Origin Story for TMF CLUB

Back in the early 80′s we were just a bunch of hooligans with new Motorcycles. We adopted the phrase “Of all the things I’ve ever done, I’ve never had TOO MUCH FUN!” and we said it often.

There was a local Suzuki dealer that we all got to know, who would make it very easy for gainfully employed 20 somethings to get financing for new bikes. I sold my 1975 GT380 and bought a 1980 GS550 that I was riding in the story above. Then I traded that in for a 1983 GS750E. At the same time, a friend bought a 1983 GS750ES, and a plan was formed.

We were going to Laguna Seca!

It just so happened that Motorcycle Racing Legend “King” Kenny Roberts was retiring and it would be his last race.

I can confidently say, that in retrospect, this was a TERRIBLE plan.

I had a six month old daughter at home, but hey, I had a credit card. So off we went.

The plan was to take 3 days to get there, camping along the way. We only got pulled over once, by the Oregon State Patrol, who was actually going the other direction at first but somehow decided we were worth pulling over.

When we arrived at the racetrack we were some of the first people there. We grabbed a prime camping spot at the bottom of “The Corkscrew”, one of the most iconic series of turns in motorsports. We set up our little 2 man tent and settled in. Our lack of preparation was astonishing.

The next morning we woke up to find ourselves surrounded by two large motorhomes and their occupants. On the right we had Don and Dawn and on the left, John and Jane. Both Don and John were Snap-on Tool dealers and motorcycle fanatics. Don had the battle scars from an accident that nearly took his leg during the Barstow to Vegas race as proof.

It turned out that we were in the spot they came to every year, and while they could have been dicks about it, they took pity on us instead. They shared their food, booze and friendship with us.

At some point during an afternoon of Kamikazes, Don said the magic words, TOO MUCH FUN. It turned out that they were seasoned veterans in the pursuit of TMF and they called themselves the TOO MUCH FUN Club. We had another pair of friends that drove from Seattle (pussies) and joined the party for the weekend. We ate , drank ,watched races, hung out in the pits, and all of us Seattle boys and our pasty white skin got some epic sunburns.

By Sunday the races were over and we had all packed up to start the second half of our trip, but this would be completely different from the ride down. We rode to Stockton and got a room at the motel 6 for much needed showers and real beds.My forehead and tops of my ears were so burned that even the water in the shower was painful but, after a week on the road, worth it. Finding ourselves in dire need of cold brewskies, we decided to walk down the street and across the highway to a little market we could see from the room.

There were a couple guys sitting outside the store and they stood up as we crossed the street and stared at us as we went inside. That is when I noticed the bars on the windows and door. I grabbed a six pack and headed towards the front where an older gentleman was standing in a raised cage. As I put the beer on the counter he said “You boys ain’t from around here, are ya?”, No Sir. We are staying the night at the Motel 6, heading home tomorrow. “Well you be careful crossing the Highway”

I didn’t really think anything about it until we walked out the door. The two guys had now become six, and when we turned to walk down to the corner and cross the highway they followed. I heard someone say “Hey Boy, where you goin?” and saw a couple other guys round the corner in front of us, heading our way. We were very quickly going to be boxed in and it was not gonna be good for us. So with the words of the man at the store suddenly clear in their meaning, I looked at my buddy and we dashed across the highway thru the traffic. When we got to the other side I looked back to see eight pissed off guys shouting.

We left Stockton early the next morning and made the decision to ride straight thru to Seattle, stopping only for food and gas. At the first gas stop I realized that my ears were stuck to the inside of my helmet and it was extremely painful to take it off. I only took it off one more time on the entire ride home, at a diner near the Oregon /Washington border. We got home near midnight after 15 hrs and 800 miles.

Within a week or two we had shirts made up, and began to hold weekly “meetings” at a Bar that was owned by another member.

That was 34 years ago. I still haven’t had TOO MUCH FUN!

#tmfclub #lagunaseca #kingkenny #kennyroberts #roadtrip #suzuki

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