For the last few years I have headed down to the spring rally in Myrtle Beach and it’s been the same old, same old. Hanging out with the same crowd, staying at the same dumpy motel, and going to the same places. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not putting it down. I have thoroughly enjoyed those times, but I needed a change, and this year the opportunity for a different Myrtle Beach experience came in the form of one of my oldest and best friends Karen (Murf) Murphy. She normally comes down from New York with her boy toy of the month, but this year she had no toys to play with so instead she brought her friend Mickey (Mom) and her daughter Amy (The Protégé). Mickey is the bartender at Karen’s favorite pub, and Amy, who can hang with mom drink for drinks were going to make for interesting roommates for the week. That’s right buckos, just little old me and three lovely ladies in a three bedroom, three bath (I’m no fool), oceanfront condo. The girls were primed and ready to party. As for me, I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

The first day in Myrtle went pretty smooth. Murf got to ride her Shovelhead from Wilmington alongside me, as Mickey and Amy followed us with the van. After arriving at the condo and unloading (all the way up to the eighth floor, mind you) enough supplies to support a Marine battalion for a Myrtle Beach takeover and occupation for a month, we all piled back into the van and I gave the girls the short tour of motorcycle venues in North Myrtle Beach and Myrtle Beach proper. Barefoot Landing, Colonial Mall, The Dog House N&S, The Convention Center, and finally ending up at Broadway at the Beach.   The next morning, with rain in sight we took the van and started off to the Harley shop. Before we even crossed the road from where we parked, we had to stop in the bar because ¾ surprise surprise ¾ the girls had to pee. The only reason I am bringing up this pit stop is that while waiting for everyone to take their turns, Mickey and I discovered we both like chilled Sambuca shots. Well what are we waiting for? So here we are drinking shots at 11AM before we’ve even crossed the street. This is the point where the week started to get a little fuzzy so I will condense the rest of the week as such: Iron Horse (much more Sambuca), Broken Spoke (getting fuzzier), Suck Bang Blow (I seem to recall something about cages and dancing), next day wtf happened last night, ride around sites taking photos and making new friends, Broadway at the Beach again, close Murphy’s Pub (again more Sambuca), etc. etc. etc. I think you get the picture. As for the rest of the week, it was more of the same but I can tell you this: What happens in Myrtle Beach stays in Myrtle Beach.