Well Shiver Me Timbers and Blow Me Down
As I sat here Saturday night listening to the strongest winds I have ever personally experienced, I knew something was gonna go. I lay here on the couch and prayed it wouldn’t be my trailer. I mean come on, I haven’t even had the damn thing for a year yet. Well something went alright, and went hard. Apparently the wind has a harder suck-tion then I could ever dream of having.
I finally fell asleep around 4 am after listening to the winds for hours. Just when I was hitting that deep you-better-damn-well-be-dying-if-you-wake-me mode when someone came banging on my door. As I rolled off the couch, looking at the clock and grumbling because it was only a little after 5 am, I remember thinking it better not be that fucking crackhead again or I’m letting Jigger have him this time. It wasn’t a crackhead, it was the park manager yelling that my shed was blowing away, straight for the parks main gas lines. Oh Joy. I headed outside and sure enough, there was my shed. Gone. Well, not gone, but blown the fuck over. Apparently my outside hot water tank door had blown off, headed straight for the shed doors, and the wind hit the inside of the shed. It picked the shed up, folded the back wall to the ground, and over. Did I mention TH had two of his most expensive dirt bike projects in there? Plus my kids bikes, and over a couple grand in tools and bike/trike/quad parts? Oh yeah.
So there we were in the dark. Me, my crackhead neighbor, the two park managers, and a neighbor couple who I have no idea who they are. It took 5 of us to hold it down long enough to tie with ropes. Luckily the back corner got stuck on a metal fence pole, so once the ropes were in place, a few heavy tires tossed on the sides, it wasn’t going anywhere else in the 70-92 mile an hour wind gusts. I never went back to sleep by the way. I stayed up to make sure my shed wasn’t going to pull another Dorothy Gale on me. Every noise, every slam had me running outside to check. I waited for hours for the wind to die down just so I could get a better look at the damage and start picking up crap. I went out twice and tried to move the sides, twice I about had my arms yanked out of their sockets with the wind.
By 11 am I said screw it and headed out anyways. Miracle of all miracles, all the bikes were still in their original places. His two project dirt bikes hadn’t even fallen off the egg crates they were sitting on. Unfortunately when the shed came up and over it did rip the back plastic on the Hamaya (he combined a Honda motor on a Yamaha frame, hence our new name) and broke off the brake light. The heavy shelves in the back that had 4 other motors and all our parts and tools had folded better than my kids fold their clothes and literally covered everything. We picked up all the pieces parts and tools, made piles of what was broke and where we were putting things, and checked to see if we could save the shed.
It was a no go. Lost. Dammit. Surprisingly enough, the crackhead neighbor came out, and literally helped me tear the shed in pieces small enough to drag into a pile for removal. The man is a maniac with a hammer though, which definitely had me looking at him in a frightening new way. But thank you anyways Mr. Crackhead, I did appreciate the help. No way would I have been able to move that by myself, my hammer was somewhere under the pile. So all in the bikes were all saved for the most part, no one was injured (except maybe my pride), the main gas lines were never hit, I barely damaged my neighbors place, and we scraped by with little loss in tools and parts.
I do regret losing the shed though. I now no longer have a secret dungeon, it was a work in progress. I no longer get to help TH work on the bikes because he’ll be working on them elsewhere from now on and I can’t. And I no longer have a reason to get my own bike because I have nowhere to put it or work on it. Which is a shame to say the least. I will miss working on those bikes and feeling at least semi-useful.