Monterey 2003, Part 1-The Skyrocket Conspiracy

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you may be swept off to."
Bilbo Baggins

Monterey 2003, Part 1
The Skyrocket Conspiracy

posted 07/24/03
For the past three years I've journeyed to Monterey California to watch the World SuperBike races at the Laguna Seca track. Previously, I've traveled solo on the bike with my son or other riders. This year would be different. My Fearless Wife would ride behind me and the focus of the ride will be changed. More sightseeing, less speeding! Our goal is to not just see the races but to go and meet folks and see what people were thinking. A mini Corp of Discovery! An expedition to report back to the Islands about what America was up to.

In most communities, when you leave to go on a trip, as soon as you close the car door you're on your way. Out the drive and within seconds you are among strangers. That's not the way it works in Friday Harbor. Here, we ease into a trip. My wife and I left on the 4th of July. Packed and ready, we come into town to watch the parade. At one point, I even consider jumping on to the back of the parade and waving to everyone as we wind through town. We would have turned left instead of right at the ferry line. Instead, we opt to have lunch at the Historical Society grounds.

We are immersed in our community there. Hundreds of friends surround us. Afterwards, we wait by the ferry lines, still talking to friends. Then we got on the 1:10 boat. Fewer friends now as it's the height of the tourist season. Getting off in Anacortes we see fewer and fewer familiar faces but always a last wave as we head down I-5 and we pass some local we know in a car.

We'd never traveled on the Fourth and I didn't know what to expect. The news programs were full of horror stories about this being the second biggest travel day of the year, so it was with some trepidation that we set out.

Just outside of Anacortes I find out where some of that travel was going to: the fireworks stands! There is a half-mile long conga line of cars waiting to buy Communist Chinese fireworks from the Indians. This so that they can celebrate our Independence Day illegally!

Other than that, traffic is light. People may be traveling, but not on the Interstates. We roll down to Portland in record time and arrive to see a fabulous fireworks display. No, not the official ones set off by professionals. I'm talking about the neighborhoods, every neighborhood for that matter. Portland looks like a war zone! Oregon used to be a "Safe 'n Sane" only state and it was rigorously enforced. Sparklers and small ground displays only. Not this Fourth of July.

More damaging than a ChiCom Silkworm missle!

Plastic car parts don't last next to a burning trailer!

The Geo Metro comes out second best to fireworks!

Large arial displays are going off on every block. Mortars burst and skyrockets whoosh up. Looking up the street from where we are staying I see three different groups setting off fireworks in the three blocks up to the next intersection. A walk around the neighborhood is a journey to the inner circle of hell for pets.

A couple of young girls are trying to light a fountain with a bum fuse a block away. The fuse lights and goes out. Lights and goes out. All the while it is getting shorter and shorter as the girls try to keep matches lit in the breeze. I finally convince them to at least not hover directly over the tube as they try to light it.

On the next block, an extended family has hundreds of dollars worth of boxed goodies left … and they have been shooting for most of the hour! Farther on, another group is using the traditional mix of fireworks and alcohol to celebrate. Across the street from where we are staying, two guys set off mortar after mortar. A haze of patriotism and gun smoke hang over the city.

That night we sleep in a room with the outside door open. Rural Islanders, we don't have the paranoia that city folks seem to have about unlocked doors and it's warm and stuffy in the house. Around 1:30 a.m. we wake to hear a call for help. "Help, help! Fire!"

The girl across the street is almost paralyzed with fear as flames leap out of her carport. The boyfriend who had been setting off mortars cleaned up after himself and gathered all the spent cases and put them in a plastic bucket between her car and a utility trailer before he leaving. He didn't wet them down though and they caught fire, quickly spreading to the tire of the trailer. In front of the vehicles, a half a ton of driftwood has been gathered for "art projects!"

I throw on some pants and run across to help while my Fearless Wife called 911. The trailer is burning and the girl doesn't have a hose, so she finds two buckets and starts filling them and handing them to me. We actually have the fire out using this old-fashioned bucket brigade before the fire truck arrives! Sometimes you get lucky. Her car is a little worse for the wear though. Plastic trim doesn't hold up well near a fire.

Later that night I have a dream of the Great Fireworks Conspiracy. On a grassy knoll in Dallas, a sinister representative of the Peoples Republic of China meets with tribal representatives to discuss the next year's purchase.

Mr. Lee: "These latest rockets have special displays. After firing, they will seek out dry grass and cedar-shingled roofs. The price, of course, will be the same."

Mr. Burning Sky: "Yes, but won't the authorities become suspicious?"

Mr. Lee: "No, the propaganda has worked. All Americans now think that illegal fireworks purchased on Indian reservations are the patriotic way to celebrate. Every year, we do more property damage than any other terrorist group and we've even convinced them to shoot at each other! Now neighbors vie for pyrotechnic superiority."

Mr. Burning Sky: "What do you have for the following year?"

Mr. Lee, "The ultimate blow to America. A skyrocket that seeks out and ruins automotive paint jobs!"

Of course it is only a dream. Fireworks are good for us. They provide essential minerals in sulfur-deprived adolescent males. Their sales help indigenous economies. Tomorrow we continue our Journey of Discovery to explore the Interstate West and make peace with local tribes such as the Peckerwood Rednecks and the Soccer Moms. I will report our findings in later columns.

The Old Squid

news @sanjuanislander.com

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"Road Trips" by The Old Squid

Monterey 2003, Part 1 The Skyrocket Conspiracy

Monterey 2003, Part 1
The Skyrocket Conspiracy