Well, the divorce was finalized. All things considered, I did pretty good. She got the house and a bunch of money but no alimony and she didn't get my pension. I'll be paying for the lawyer for a while, but I was just glad it was over.
Most importantly, I still had my bike. If it wasn't for that motorcycle, I don't know how I would have survived. Therapy on wheels!! A couple months back I had met a few guys at a bar when I stopped to piss. Local guys, nice bikes, friendly.
We had gone out on a few cruises together. Nothing crazy. Down to the beach for seafood. Across the state for hot wings. Down to the state line for ice cream. It really didn't matter where, I was glad to be on my bike and appreciated the company.
We all agreed to take a ride out to Franky's cabin up in the mountains. No wives. No kids. Just us and a bunch of beer, weed, and bad food.
Well, most of us agreed to it. Some had previous plans. And as the days passed, the group got smaller and smaller. Wives said no, jobs interfered. You know the bullshit lines you get. About 2 weeks before the trip, it was down to just me and Frank.
I was ready to cancel. I could celebrate on my own at home, but Franky would have none of it.
"Absolutely not! We'll get drunk, we'll get high, we'll eat until we puke! You've been through hell. You need to blow off some steam. Worst case scenario, we hang out on the dock and dont catch no fucking fish."
Ah yes, the lake. I had forgotten about that. I had seen pictures of this little hideout but hadn't been there yet. It really did look peaceful. Set in the mountains off a lake, surrounded by thick woods. He was right. It was just what I needed.
"Yeah, alright. Let me know what I need to bring and when we are leaving."
The pictures really didn't do the place justice. The cabin looked like it had been there for 100 years. And if you didn't know where it was, you'd never find it. Heavy cruising motorcycles weren't ideal for the dirt roads that took us on the final leg of the journey but it was all worth it when the cabin came into view.
It wasn't much, maybe a 25x50 foot building with a wrap around porch. When we parked under an awning next to the cabin, I could see the lake. It was like a mirror, probably about an acre or so with a rowboat tied to a dock. Like a fucking Norman Rockwell painting.
I could feel the stress leaving my body.
Inside the cabin was just as stunning. It had a wide open floorplan with one side of the cabin housing a small bedroom and a bathroom. The giant main room had a big leather couch with a big, poofy, leather recliner on either side. If front of them was a big TV, maybe 65 inches or so. Off to the side was a small kitchenette with a oven/stove, microwave, sink and a refrigerator.
And that's where Franky was, grabbing a couple of beers.
"I had a buddy bring up enough food and beer for 4 or 5 guys so dont be shy! The fridge is full of beer, the freezer is full of meat, there's a ton of snacks, and (opening a drawer in the kitchen and holding up a freezer bag full of pot) enough weed to keep us stoned out of our minds for the foreseeable future!"
"Just what the doctor ordered", I said as I tossed back my first beer.
I admired the lake and tossed back a few as Frank grilled us up a few steaks. We chit chatted about the ride, the view, and the guys that had backed out on us.
"Those guys all talk tough and make big plans until their wives find out and squash their dreams. We'd be better off checking with the bitches before running it past those fucking guys. It's their loss though. They gotta sit there and listen to their wives bitch and we get to hang out here without a care in the world."
Frank was right. I already felt significantly better just breathing fresh air and leaving the troubles of the world behind me.
Frank was an interesting guy. I know he came from money but I never figured out what he did for a living. He's that guy that always has someone that owes him a favor. He was about my age, mid 40s, divorced- twice, no kids. He mostly took decent care of himself with the exception of our biker outings, and even then he didn't usually go overboard.
The beer really started hitting me as I ate the steak. Man was it good. I just sat back and relaxed and enjoyed the stress free feeling of a full belly and moderate intoxication.
Frank interrupted my peace. "I'm going to hop in the shower. I don't know about you but I'm a sweaty mess."
I hadn't thought of it but it was kinda hot out and we still had our heavy jeans and leathers on. Well, damn it, now I was uncomfortable too!
Before long I noticed Frank walking around the cabin wearing socks, a T-shirt, and boxers and it looked like the most comfortable outfit I'd ever seen. And within 20 minutes, I was dressed the same as we lit up the first bowl of weed.
And that's really when we started having fun. Frank was mixing drinks, we were telling stories, telling jokes! I was having the absolute time of my life.
By the time we fired up another bowl, there was porn on the TV, liquor bottles on the table, and empty beer bottles everywhere.
Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was the weed. But this bowl hit different. All my senses were magnified. I could see sound. I could smell light. My entire body tingled. I had reached a eutopian high.
