Foon
2006-09-02 04:31:29 UTC
It was a clandestine and highly secret mission. I had to lie to MrsFoon and tell
her I was going up to Rod's to help plan the GP2006. Our real destination wasn't
even revealed to me until we were under-way the next morning. Security was tight
at the Rodgers house as I got a thorough sniffing by the perimeter guard/weapons
detecting dog, "Caesar," before I was granted entrance. Sheesh, good thing I
wasn't holding. I even had to sleep in his room.
Up early and fueled with "regular" tar pit coffee we hit the Big I-95 and headed
North. In the gray drizzly morning Rodrigo negotiating the morning rush like
the real road warrior he is. 30 minutes into the trip Rodski started to twitch
badly which meant he needed his morning fix of Charbucks. We picked up a road
tar espresso for him and I what I thought was a "light" house blend until I
tasted it. Now I've had a perforated ulcer in my life and damn if the first sips
of that shit didn't remind me of my own stomach acid dripping onto my pancreas.
Fuggetaboudit. Doctors should pay Charbucks to sell that swill.
Soon our destination was revealed to me. No wonder the secrecy -the site of the
Longboard transfer was the home break of a former ASer and original GPer. Highly
classified. Through rain and mindless Jersey traffic Rodrigo surfed the
Semitruck wave of behemoths cruising at an easy 80 mph. Furtive calls to a
secret contact named "the fishpoker" brought us closer to a rendezvous at the
end of a road named..... Hold it gotta sneeze. Now where were we.
We pulled into the unnamed beachtown where we immediately noticed security was
heavy. Surveillance cameras and local beach Gestapo all seemed to be looking at
us.
Loading Image...
Suspiciously on a late August morning, conditions were not conducive for looking
like visiting beachgoers. There was nobody on the beach or in the water.
http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a358/wfover/sandbox/dba1cab8.jp
More last minute calls on a "clean" phone brought the principles within minutes
of the transfer.
Loading Image...
Finally, a conspicuous orange Honda Element came slowly down the road sans any
kind of board on the roof. "We've been duped" I thought and suggested to Rodski
we leave immediately. The Element took a a quick U turn pulled into an illegal
space and out popped our contact, "the Fishpoker."
Loading Image...
We asked for ID, and damn, didn't he have it. The "fishpoker" packs a fishpoker.
Loading Image...
The fishpoker reached into the back of his ride and produced the goods.
Loading Image...
We checked over the packaged and confirmed is was the AS Long Board
Loading Image...
Loading Image...
Transfer complete, nice frickin board.
Loading Image...
All this espionage makes a guy hungry. The fishpoker's favorite joint in the
unnamed beach town was an Irish Tavern.
Loading Image...
Where we repaired to refuel for our trip home.
Loading Image...
That fishpoker is quick with the check and our $$ had hardly cleared our pockets
when he had already paid the bill. Thanks fishpoker, you're a good man.
Later on the trip back we received a anonymous (?) call from the fishpoker. He
claimed that maybe it was him or just the crappy surf conditions, but during
the entire encounter he felt like we were being watched.
Loading Image...
Nah, couldn't be.
The AS Long board is safely stored in a high security storage facility with a
Sears remote opener.
-Foon
her I was going up to Rod's to help plan the GP2006. Our real destination wasn't
even revealed to me until we were under-way the next morning. Security was tight
at the Rodgers house as I got a thorough sniffing by the perimeter guard/weapons
detecting dog, "Caesar," before I was granted entrance. Sheesh, good thing I
wasn't holding. I even had to sleep in his room.
Up early and fueled with "regular" tar pit coffee we hit the Big I-95 and headed
North. In the gray drizzly morning Rodrigo negotiating the morning rush like
the real road warrior he is. 30 minutes into the trip Rodski started to twitch
badly which meant he needed his morning fix of Charbucks. We picked up a road
tar espresso for him and I what I thought was a "light" house blend until I
tasted it. Now I've had a perforated ulcer in my life and damn if the first sips
of that shit didn't remind me of my own stomach acid dripping onto my pancreas.
Fuggetaboudit. Doctors should pay Charbucks to sell that swill.
Soon our destination was revealed to me. No wonder the secrecy -the site of the
Longboard transfer was the home break of a former ASer and original GPer. Highly
classified. Through rain and mindless Jersey traffic Rodrigo surfed the
Semitruck wave of behemoths cruising at an easy 80 mph. Furtive calls to a
secret contact named "the fishpoker" brought us closer to a rendezvous at the
end of a road named..... Hold it gotta sneeze. Now where were we.
We pulled into the unnamed beachtown where we immediately noticed security was
heavy. Surveillance cameras and local beach Gestapo all seemed to be looking at
us.
Loading Image...
Suspiciously on a late August morning, conditions were not conducive for looking
like visiting beachgoers. There was nobody on the beach or in the water.
http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a358/wfover/sandbox/dba1cab8.jp
More last minute calls on a "clean" phone brought the principles within minutes
of the transfer.
Loading Image...
Finally, a conspicuous orange Honda Element came slowly down the road sans any
kind of board on the roof. "We've been duped" I thought and suggested to Rodski
we leave immediately. The Element took a a quick U turn pulled into an illegal
space and out popped our contact, "the Fishpoker."
Loading Image...
We asked for ID, and damn, didn't he have it. The "fishpoker" packs a fishpoker.
Loading Image...
The fishpoker reached into the back of his ride and produced the goods.
Loading Image...
We checked over the packaged and confirmed is was the AS Long Board
Loading Image...
Loading Image...
Transfer complete, nice frickin board.
Loading Image...
All this espionage makes a guy hungry. The fishpoker's favorite joint in the
unnamed beach town was an Irish Tavern.
Loading Image...
Where we repaired to refuel for our trip home.
Loading Image...
That fishpoker is quick with the check and our $$ had hardly cleared our pockets
when he had already paid the bill. Thanks fishpoker, you're a good man.
Later on the trip back we received a anonymous (?) call from the fishpoker. He
claimed that maybe it was him or just the crappy surf conditions, but during
the entire encounter he felt like we were being watched.
Loading Image...
Nah, couldn't be.
The AS Long board is safely stored in a high security storage facility with a
Sears remote opener.
-Foon
