The Iron Horse
Warning! The following is a few days worth of happenings. I disclaim any eye strain or irritation over the length of this.Saturday afternoon, on 64, 15 miles west of Raleigh, I noticed a long burst of polished chrome. It was neatly parked in rows beside the Iron Horse, a biker bar. I continued to walk past the isolated establishment when a voice said, "turn around and go get a lemonade in this sun." I think the voice came from the spirit of one of dead possums I recently passed. I doubled back, walked into the bar and ordered a drink. I brought my drink back to my far corner table and realized the only leather in my wardrobe was one small bit on my shoe, if it is leather at all. The rest of the bar, consisting of roughly 30 patrons drank, smoked, laughed, wore leather and shot pool. They all seemed to watch me in the corners of their eyes. I felt like a ballerina at rollerdearby convention. I drank half my beverage silently, in the corner. I started to feel the day light burning away; so I threw my pack on and started to leave. The guy who people were buying the most beers for stopped me in my tracks. "Where you going? You're not walking across the country are you (laughing)?" "I sure am." I proudly responded, and turned around so he could read my sign. He read it-- loud. The entire bar stopped to listen. After he was finished everyone exploded into a belly cheer. Every patron in the bar reached into their pocket and gave me a donation. The guy who read my sign asked me about my staff and what I used it for. I told the whole bar the story of the pit bull, and the teeny boppers who hit it. They were thrilled and laughed as I said my goodbye's and walked out the door. The Iron Horse crowd, has a rough and rebellious streak. They also have fierce love of freedom and a strong national pride. And when they are out snorting their engines on the open road, they are following their hearts. And for that I respect them. After Saturday, I will stop in every biker bar I can. If anyone from the Iron Horse reads this, please send me a group picture. I am disappointed I forgot to pull out the camera.Update: I saw Charles from the Iron Horse, outside of Siler City. I am happy to hear that there is a "buzz" over the walk at the bar. Guys stay in touch and thank you again for your support!I met my first hitch hikers, Justin and Chris. Both white kids in their early 20's, and completely covered in tattoo's, face and all. They have traveled the country with bags less than half the size of mine and no money for the last two months. They hop freight trains (and were locked up in Ohio for 5 days after getting caught. A harsh punishment in my opinion) and take rides with the completely intoxicated (they just left a women who nearly ran them into a ditch). Chris and Justin subject themselves to the whims of the road and seemed completely content. They are thinking about traveling through Mexico soon. Stay in touch guys, let me know how things go. I stopped in Wilsonville to pick up some batteries. A couple and their friend, Brad was his name and I forget the name of the other two, told me about a campsite, with a shower. I jumped at the chance. It was a bit out of my way but worth it. I saw the 3 of them as I walked in the camp grounds and they invited me over to their fire for hot dogs and beer. They were returning from an Allman Brothers concert in Raleigh. We talked and cooked hot dogs over the fire. Brad is on his way to South Africa to swim with the Great White's. I shared some stories from the road and called it a very pleasant Saturday night. I, like many, felt the drop in the Stock Market today. It gnawed at me all day. It wasn't until around 2 that I finally figured out how to stop the worry. Running out of water in the middle of the blazing sun, 5 miles from the nearest town is the ultimate priority shift. Life is better when water has more value than diamonds. Finally, to all the teenage girls out there: what the heck is so funny about a guy walking with an over sized pack, a sunburn, crooked sunglasses and a cane, through a mini-mall parking lot? For some reason you can't stop laughing. Am I not as cool as the Jonas Brothers?I am camped in the middle of a Waffle House, a Baptist Cemetery, an Auto Parts store and a Mighty Dollar. It all means one thing, early wake up call.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
hey rory; did you tell all your biker pals about your moped?!
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Rory
"I will stop in every biker bar I can" is a solid strategy. You will find many brothers along the way. The first time I rode to Wash DC for Rolling Thunder-Run To the Wall I was in awe of the 250,000 bikes lined up in the Pentagon parking lot. When we made the final turn during the parade and I saw the Marine in the middle of the road in dress blues at full attention (for over 4 hrs) saluting the bikers as we split around him the tears just started to flow. I was never so proud to be a small part of something so big. I've been to 5 rallies so far and I choke up every time I pass that Marine. It all started with ONE vet asking for help to remember the POW/MIA. They are over 500,000 strong now, Memorial Day weekend every year. Rolling Thunder starts in LA and gathers momentum heading east. I don't know of any rally heading east to west except for ONE Army Ranger on foot asking for help to remember his fallen brother. Just maybe.....
Stay strong Rory!
God bless you,
Charlie
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Hey Rory! It's Erin from the camp in Raleigh, my friend Ashley and I ran met you at the convenience store. Too bad you didn't remember my name. but at least you caught the boyfriend, Brad
From you friends in Raleigh,
Erin, Brad, and Ashley
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Rory,
I was just given a copy of your blog posting today while I was at The Iron Horse. My name is Nic and I am the owner of the bar. I would like to say that the experience that you had while at the bar was unique, but I cannot. The bar attracts many types of people on many types of quests. What it attracts the most however is great people with huge hearts. I have never felt more proud to be a part of something than I do being the owner of the Iron Horse. The patrons there are one big family. When one of them is down or in need of ANYTHING, the others band together and help them out. I know that 1000 people a day drive by my rickety old roadside biker beer house and say to themselves, "Wow, that place looks rough. I don't think I would EVER go in there." If they only knew what exists inside our four walls.
About three months ago I was setting up the bar and noticed a young man riding on a fully packed up ten speed from the 1980's! He had all of his gear strapped to his back and covered in a tarp. He rode past the bar and we made eye contact. He turned around and came on in. He parked his ten speed on the front porch and came inside for a PBR. He had a full beard and looked like he hadn't seen the inside of a shower in a while. As he sat there we struck a conversation and he told me about his quest. He was riding across country to see and experience all that he could. He ordered a second beer just as some of the bar regulars arrived. They said "Hello!" to him and sat down in their usual spots. They too struck up conversations with the young man.
The rain started and the young man looked distressed. He wasn't looking forward to riding in the rain. We all saw this on his face! We took him in and bought him some beers and I ended up taking him out for a steak dinner. I let him sleep the night at my house and we collectively sent him off on his journey with new supplies and some spending money.
He wasn't on a noble journey like you, but it was noble to him. I admired him for his courage as I admire you. I wanted to thank you for stopping by our little piece of Heaven! If you are ever back on this side of the country, drop us a line. I'd be honored to buy you a beer!
By the way, look at our website for some pics of everyone!
www.ourlittlebar.com
Thanks again for all that you are doing!
Warmest regards,
Nic Baliva,
Proud and Lucky Owner of The Iron Horse
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