The Rock Files: The Wack and Roll Circus Hits the Road - Part Four

Having survived a high speed blowout and a harrowing trip down a steep mountain road, The Wackers spend the night in Boise, get a new van, and continue their trip to Montreal, confident that the worst part of the journey is behind them. After driving out of Boise, Norm has pulled over and Cheryl is behind the wheel…

GU-11 and B1RD are happily sailing down the Highway with a full compliment of seasoned travelers and a cargo of precious loved ones along for the ride. With a January 17^th deadline to reach our destination, Montreal, Quebec, we have to make up for lost time, which means driving longer and further each driving shift. To that end, Cheryl, one of the precious cargo, has taken the helm for the first time, adding a driver to the roster, and taking on some of the added burden caused by the weather, and an overnight stay in Boise Idaho.

We are somewhere between Boise and Butte, Montana, when the next major hiccup occurs. It comes out of nowhere like a suckerpunch, and changes the mood from jolly and anticipatory, to pissed off and depressed. It is an accident, pure and simple, but the way things have been going, the increasingly foul weather and the Wack’s penchant for (melo)drama, gives us the feeling that either a conspiracy is in motion against us and this trip, or God has become bored with whatever he had been doing and has decided to spend a few hours playing with The Wackers to see just how much we are willing to suffer before somebody loses it and kills the rest of us with a tire iron.

From Melanie Bishop’s Journal…

Jan 13th 1972 10:00 pm
The Gull broke down with the help of Cheryl executing a down shift from 65 mph to 45 mph in fourth gear…We are desperately trying to make it to Butte Montana, to get a new valve it will cost about $100, and 2 hours. If it had happened in daylight we could have had it done on warranty but it didn’t so we will have to wait until morning so we will stay in a motel. Some unsuspecting gas station attendant and hotel clerk are about to see the Circus.

Poor Chuck, (Cheryl’s nickname). Just trying to help and now we are limping into Butte on 3 legs and a prayer.

It was 4^th gear to 1^st at 65 miles an hour that led to this latest disaster, and GU-11 responded by pooping a valve, yet valiantly continues to run on impulse power into the sleepy Montana  town, which now, instead of being a fuel stop, pee break, and nom station, had become another unwanted overnight stay, and cash drain.

It was an honest mistake anyone could have made. The new van’s transmission was tight and difficult to shift, and the Germans, still pissed off about World War’s I and II, reversed the shift pattern on the shifter just to accomplish this very kind of kerfuffle

“Vell…ve shall show zo’se Americans vhat happ’ns to zem vhen zay mess mit us, undt how!”

At least, that how it seems to me.

So here we are in Butte, which, thanks to its name, became the butt of a lot of Wacker humour.

“Where are the Buttes?”

“They’re everywhere!”

“Those are butts!”

“Well that girl’s butt is a beaut!”

“A Beaut, yes, but that butt isn’t a Butte!”.

“Bullshit, that Butt is a Beaut, Bud!”

…and so on until it became incredibly annoying…say, about 60 seconds.

From Tim Stull’s Journal…

Friday, January 13^th, 1972 – 12:00 midnight – Butte, Montana

The mission has come to a screeching halt. Cheryl shifted into 1^st at 60 mph and (as far as I can see) sucked a valve or blew a piston on the volx. We’ve looked around Butte and no one will fix it this late. FUCK! Yes, it’s going to be a long road ahead…..

I must say in all truth that a lady’s place is not on the ROAD!!!! At any rate, we can expect at least 14 to 12 hrs. here in “Butt”. I now hold the rank of electronics officer, navigator, Major Tim Stull.

There is now some tension in the air as we check into a hotel while Rand tracks down a garage that can fix GU-11, and get us back on the road.

I feel for Cheryl.

What happened could have just as easily happened to any of us, especially me. The damn thing was hard to shift in the first place, but because of the previous hassles, this one seems to be a difficult one to handle.

Paula and Mel comfort Chuck as best they can, while the Wacks and their crew grumble and moan and wonder what the hell else can go wrong.

The Wackers were the third band I was in that Cheryl suffered through, with two more to go, and she was a trooper. Always supportive, always understanding, and as beautiful and sweet as a woman can be. She was my better 4/5’s for a long time, and if I hadn’t had been such a selfish, stupid, jackass, she might have lasted longer than the almost 30 years she did, but I could never blame her years later, for leaving. I was an ass, and eventually, she finally gave up on me. After growing up a bit years after she left, I found I was amazed that she lasted as long as she did. I am pleased that she is happily remarried, and with someone that knows what a treasure she is, she deserves the good life more than anyone I know. Still, I will always regret my behavior during the time we were together.

So here we are in Butte Montana, which at one time was a bustling mining town, and a frontier cross between Vegas and a whore house. Gambling and prostitution were a big part of the town’s past, and pretty interesting if you like history.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butte,_Montana

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumas_Brothel

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venus_Alley

…come to think of it, pretty interesting even if you don’t like history. It turns out Venus Alley was still thriving when we screwed up the van, and if I had known that then, I probably would have added one more jackass moment to the long list of jackass moments I am none too proud of.

The only thing that is more interesting to me than anything else is food, and I stumbled into a place that was an institution in Butte, and may still be. Not only was the food great, (diner style, my favourite on the road), but a shot of Jack was 50 cents. Fifty cents! Gadzooks! If you ever find yourself in Butte Montana, find the Acoma, eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow, you will have gas.

From Melanie’s Journal…

Jan 14^th 1972
We had to stay in a motel and the Gull was Valve fixed in the morning. Adjustment costs $33.00.Motel costs $22.00. Lost ten hours of road time.
Ol’ Ladies on the road a bad idea. The circus has diminished to the three couples and two pissed off single guys and two amiable roadies.
Now freezing our way east through Montana, will probably be a power run from here on in to make up for the lost time. All the single members are in the Bird. Kootch couldn’t stand riding with us ” the couples”. Will the Bird crew be talking to us when we arrive?

“The Bigger the dick the harder the ball”  Sky Farnum

Why are we ladies blamed for all the trouble? I didn’t do anything!!!

From Tim Stull’s Journal…

Saturday, January 14^th, 1972

9:04 am – Mountain Time. Steven and Norm took the volx down to be fixed and they said it’s either a piston or a valve, but it will be at least 2 hrs. till we know which. Another 2 or 3 to fix it. So in my estimation we might make it out of Butte by 2:00 is we are very lucky. Mike and Kootch are still crashed. Steve is back wandering around the room looking around for his book so he can pit out someone on this ridiculous fucking holdup. Actually the money were paying out is the least of my worries. What I’m sweating is the lost time. Right now there’s a gargantuan snow storm in front of us, (two days ago it gave Cheyenne, Wyo. 150 mph winds and 10 ft. of snow) and another right behind us. So if we hang around this cheesy burg for much    longer, we’re going to get snowed in so bad we won’t be able to leave whether the volx is done or not. Then again if we leave just at the right time the roads will have been half ass cleared. Boy I’m telln’ you, I shoulda shot the first motherfucker that mentioned anything about circuses or rock and roll AND FURTHERMORE, blah, blah, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch dirtygodblessedmutherfuckingsomebitchingcocksuckingcuntassed….. Whew! Well now that I’ve gotten that out of my system maybe I can step back a few paces and take a more objective look at that pile of troubles that seem to have changed from an obscure molehill to Mt. McKinley in a matter of minutes. Even so, for all my cussing and hellraising etc., I have great confidence in our mission and believe that “That Ole Wack Magic” will come through in the end.

2:50 pm – Mountain Time. Going down the east side of Bozeman Pass (see picture), somewhere in the Rockies. Thank God we’re finally on the road again. See Kootch’s damage control report for details on that piece of flack the GU-11 took last night. Right now we are coming down out of the Rockies at Livingston. About 4 to 6 feet of powder snow on everything. It blows across the road in thin wispy strands. We seem to have hit the pocket between storms. Right now the sun is out and the wind is up to about 30 to 40 mph. The average is about 60 to 70 mph.

From Ernie’s Journal…

Jan 14

15:51 – Big Timber, Mont.

Randy – “Can I have a receipt?”

Attendant – “You’ll have to come inside.”

Randy – “I don’t particularly want to.”

Attendant – “Oh.”

Dialogue at gas n’ pee stop. The Colonel is really miffed about ol’ lady situation. But, there it is. 16:30 hrs. Columbus, Mont. 16:43 hrs. Stopped at highest point in Mont. – 12,791 ft. Took pictures, cold high air made everyone giddy!! Received shipment of goodies from Col. Trochim. Probably Will will have our promotions by the end of this cruise. 17:10 hrs. Passing Billings, Mont. Time for lites so far I’ve read Vandenberg, Deep is the Blue and collected Little Annie Fanni. Pete’s still at her Summerhill and Our Primitive Contemporaries. Speed almost 65-70, wind blowing, clear and cold -10? or so. 18:20 stopped for 1,000,000 candy bars, pee and 200 motels. The place was Custer, Montana. 19:05 hrs. GU-11B hit the 1000 mile mark. 19:06 Miles City, Mont. Turnoff.

Approx 19:30 hrs. Hauling ass through the night in Montana.  The windows in the GU-11B are frozen and it’s coats and gloves for all personnel even though heat’s on full. We should cross into N. Dakota any minute. Bob and Chuck are crapped out. Norm’s driving, Mel wishes he wasn’t. Grand Fucked is obnoxiously ever-present out here. Me n’ Paula keep on reading.

19:52 hrs. Entering Miles City, Mont. Fairly sizeable burg. Man, its cold. We’re on I-94.

19:57 My shift at driving.

20 till 9 depart from Miles City. Ernie dumps but takes bidder. 10:05 gas up at Glendive. It is 28 below. 11:21 North “Dacoda.” 11:55 Dickenson Randy “God I’m sweating in here.” Everyone else is freezing. We’ve been shadowed by unidentified aircraft ever since we crossed the N. Dakota border. Intentions unknown at this time.

We’re in North Dakota. The weather continues to deteriorate, and the slippery conditions and the on again, off again, limited visibility and strong winds are beginning to wear on everyone. The radio is mostly static, preachers, and the kind of country music your father used to shoot pesky strangers and varmints to. When we do get news on the radio it is always about the weather, and just how bad it is.

It couldn’t possibly get any worse.

Could it?

Continued next Wednesday in The Rock Files…

That’s enough for now. Email me at segarini@fyimusic.ca with your comments, complaints, and thoughts…and remember…don’t believe a word I say.

Bob “The Iceman” Segarini was in the bands The Family Tree, Roxy, The Wackers, The Dudes, The Segarini Band, and Cats and Dogs, and nominated for a Juno for production in 1978. He also hosted “Late Great Movies” on CITY TV, was a producer of Much Music, and an on-air personality on CHUM FM, Q107, SIRIUS Sat/Rad’s Iceberg 95, (now 85), and now provides content for radiothatdoesntsuck.com with RadioZombie, The Iceage, and PsychShack. Along with the love of his life, Jade (Pie) Dunlop, (who hosts and writes “I’ve Heard That Song Before” on RTDS), continues to write, make music, and record.