Spyke and Mike MOTOFEST MADNESS
Whoa Nellie! If you missed it, you missed a whole lot of beautiful steel horses in one place. If you were there, you know that no words can totally convey what went down the stretch. I’m squawking about the Great American Motofest that ran at the Boss Hogg ranch.
Mike, Cherry and I were so busy treating the fans to one hell of a mechanical equestrian event that we totally lost track of time. Before we knew it, most of our friends were beating the dusty trail home in front of the inevitable rain that was en route. All day long at the ranch Mother Nature was leading the pack with no precipitation in sight. There was a decent gallop from cloud cover and a fairly nice breeze blowing up from behind.
Mike interrupts, “Rein it in, Spyke. Mother Nature? No precipitation? Cloud cover? Fairly nice breeze? You sound like you’re calling the fifth race at Churchill Downs. I know we were at a ranch but there were no four-legged steeds named after weather conditions to be found. I think your birdbrain got a little fried from the lack of rain and smelling all the unburnt hydrocarbons coming from the awesome iron ponies at the event. You’re the only biker bird that would’ve wanted to see some rain. The rest of the crowd would’ve scattered.”
“Topping off the event was some hilarious outhouse drag racing and awesome music with the Tommy Roxxs band inviting me on stage posing as a ‘Freebird’ on his monitor during the finale. Rubenstein Law had their beautiful red white and blue stallion bagger on display for everyone to see and chopper alley was filled with wild Nellie’s.”
Mike cuts me off, saying, “Hey featherhead, I don’t think there was one chopper named Nellie and you’re not a free bird, you’re rather expensive. For our avid fans that didn’t make it to the epic experience, y’all can get the full feed sack by checking out the pictures here between these covers, on BTR’s Facebook page, the upcoming episodes of BTR TV, in next month’s issue and on the John and Heather show. I believe there were more Kodak moments taken of the wild mechanical horses than of you, and that’s a rarity.”
“I was running around like a headless horseman and didn’t get a chance to snap any pics of you hanging with your friends,” Mike goes on. “But, someone did get a shot of us tapping a beer for Cherry after running down the home stretch, ending the day.”
I screech, “Maybe in your mind you were running, but your left leg said you were a Tennessee Walker. At least you didn’t fall because I don’t think you’d giddy-up without feeling some embarrassment. Now you’re starting to look like the good ol’ Mike who used to saddle us up on the Fat Bird, ride to every event possible, tether me to anyone’s shoulder and gallop off for a cold one or something from a feed bag.”
Mike bellows loudly, “Hey Spyke, that’s the start of horse shit! On the other hand, that’s just what you and I do. People don’t call us the Spyke and Mike show for no reason.”
I cluck, “Well dude, at least we both look pretty fit in our travels. That’s ‘cuz we’re on a stable diet just like trotters.”
Mike babbles, “You’ve got to tighten up the reins, Spyke. It’s pasture bedtime and I’d hate for you to have nightmares. Tomorrow Ron wants us to saddle up early. I’ll need to get my knees under the keys, your wings out the window and the four wheels of the mechanical workhorse cantering down the road to the BTR barn.”
— SPYKE