Buying honey in the land of the Hells Angels

Late last summer I packed up my dirty SUV and drove myself and my road-dog dog out to the middle of the Yucca Valley desert. Fresh into a pocket of some newfound independence, I decided that getting lost in the dust and the heat and the people who hide themselves in the desert would be a good way to celebrate. I landed myself in the middle of Pioneer Town with a mason jar filled with amber colored liquid and baked under the afternoon sunlight.
Looking forlorn, I’m sure, a pack of hairy, bearded, tattooed, leather bound 50-somethings approached me with conversations. A few hours later, mason jars emptied and new friends made, I headed back to LA.
I had spent the day with the meanest, grizzliest group of Hells Angels I’ll ever meet. What came of that encounter? A jar of homemade wildflower and lavender honey they forced me to buy for $7. Also, a very dirty car and a few crumpled phone numbers I’d never call.
On my drive back to LA, this song found it’s way to my speakers. I immediately pulled over, in front of hundreds of gigantic windmills, their white shapes contrasting the night sky blanketed in stars.
I turned my stereo up loud, and under those stars, against the windmills, I danced in the desert. This song fit so perfectly that moment. I’d have pushed repeat and danced again, however, I looked down past my cowboy boots only to realize the rattling I’d heard wasn’t my car, it was a rattlesnake.

Hells Angels, honey, rattlers and Delta Spirit: things I hope my baby sisters never experience alone.
Enjoy the song!

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3 Responses to Buying honey in the land of the Hells Angels

  1. sar says:

    This is my fave post yet. So vivid!!

  2. Bill Kielty says:

    So, I was looking through some invites in my event section, and ran across the “LAter Gator” thingamagig (not realizing that it was a going away party for you) then, somehow, I ended up on your blogaroo. I found this story to be pretty amusing, seeing as I come from the land of Hells Angels, meth…and domestic violence. Who Rides The Tiger used to play this big biker party every 4th of July for this bike club called “The Sinners”. The crowd was typically made up of Hells Angels, Vagos and Nomads. Always, and I mean this…the nicest buncha dudes. Sooo complimentary of the tunes and all smiles when we played. Just be happy you were in Yucca Valley and not Fontana. Them boys in Fontuckey aren’t too nice. Now, picture Bob Penn playing at a biker party. Anyhoo, like what you’ve got going on here. Make sure to send new posts.

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