Chapter Sixty One:     Snowbound!

Hellova good thing we had three days to get to our concert in St Paul, the snow turned out to rilly be a hindrance. We left Des Moins by 10:30 in the morning and the roads were already white, big fat snowflakes drifting-- no, dropping down fast. Then it just had to become a whiz-blizzard, snowflakes no longer falling down but shooting at us sideways, hail sping-pinging on the metal and glass around us like buckshot. The wind was screaming, rudely nudging our poor little bus, rocking it-- rilly, it got kinda scary. By the time we got out to the freeway the snow was already pretty deep, the six lanes of road narrowed down to a tight 2-lane tunnel with no side to pull over to.

Luckily, it was Sunday, I suppose, but traffic got intense anyway; rilly slow going, bumper to bumper even tho it was slippery and dangerous. Reminded me of our trip through Mexico, except for it being through fluffy white snow instead of dust-storm and brown-baked desert. And just like in Mexico there were road blocks where the police had to regulate traffic, red lights flashing to make us worry, sending us on detours to get past big jam-ups of trucks and RVs.

It was grueling: we had to drive slow so it took a long time. A long boring time. We couldn't see anything out the windows 'cept for a mess of white streaking thru the air. We didn't read books or watch movies because we were too worried about sliding into an accident. We didn't even have sex because none of the guys was able to relax enuff to present a stiffy. I mean, this was grim. Luckily, Adam was driving: he can see better than any of us. Maybe even through a blinding blizzard, I kinda hoped. Probably not, but I rilly wanted to believe so at the time.

And then the traffic just stopped. Right in the middle of the freeway, somewhere between nowhere and West Zilchburg. We waited about 15 minutes before Adam decided to go see what the problem was, putting Masnia in charge of driving forward if the traffic started moving while he was gone. She's got squatch eyes too.

Mel and I felt that we should be solidaric and go with our lover-guy, but just hopping around outside in that wind and cold was enough to convince us that we were not made of the same stuff as a Bigfoot, so Magga went with him instead. They didn't even put on jackets or shoes, those showoffs, just marched off into the storm towards the head of the line.

They were gone almost an hour, little bit more than long enough for us to began wondering if we should worry. Although worrying about squatches being out in rough weather is kind of a waste of quality worrying time. But then the traffic started moving, and we couldn't wait there without blocking for everyone behind us, so we had to start driving too. Follow the crowd.

But no problem, Adam had taken his cell phone along and called Mel to say that he and Magga had helped to loosen up a traffic tangle and that they were about a mile ahead of us, where they'd be watching for us to come and pick them up. We began to see blinking emergency lights up ahead, came to an area scraped wider by snowplows, full of cars in clusters, obviously the scene of a major pile-up. Lots of dented cars, lights smashed, but none of them burning or upside down, so it didn't seem so bad. But there were cop cars everywhere, fire engines, ambulances, the works. Dramatic. We finally spotted Adam and Magga waving to us from the middle of all that. As they hopped aboard there were cops and firemen shouting thanks to them, waving goodbye. They'd obviously been helpful with the mess. Maybe even heroes, the crowd seemed pretty enthusiastic.

We followed the traffic going North on Hwy 35. Still horribly slow, but at least forward. By then it was almost dark, we'd spent most of the day battling the weather and were less than halfway to St Paul, which should have been a 4-hour drive under normal conditions. We were in cell-phone contact with the other vehicles in our convoy and agreed that we'd find a transport center-- one of those big gas stations with everything --and stop there for the night. We still had 2 days to get to St Paul, which was now "only" 2 hours away, so there was no reason to push on.

But it wasn't so easy to stop anywhere. There must have been thousands of vehicles trapped in this weather and everybody was getting hungry at the same time, so any restaurants along the freeway were already surrounded. We drove past 3 or 4 gas stations without seeing anywhere to put our 3 busses and one semi. We considered splitting up but waited a bit yet. At least we had our own toilet in the bus and could make dinner, we just needed somewhere off the freeway to stop for the night. We didn't want to take an off-ramp into some podunk town, the backed up traffic was a warning that it wouldn't be so easy. But then, just outside a town called Lassiter, we found our new home for the night-- although we must have grabbed the very last few cubic inches of parking lot, which was now filled up all the way.

It was a travel center rather than just a gas station, almost like a mall, with shops, restaurants, supermarket, motel, etc. Adam and the squatchettes didn't want to go in there and cause a fuss, but I was bored and hungry so Mel and Mike and I went with some of the roadies to see what we could find. It was quite a scene: rows and rows of the big trucks, all being buried under a ever-thickening carpet of snow, lots of people wading to and fro through the fluff, but nobody leaving. The motel sign read "No Vacancy" so lots of those lots of people would probably have to spend the night in their cars. It was pretty cold for that, we hoped they had sleeping bags. At least they could buy some gas if they needed to keep the motor running all night.

We checked out the diner. Classic cornbelt, food looked all right but there were too many people eating and many more waiting in line, so we gave up for the moment. Some of us went to the bar, which wasn't easy either, took a long time to get a beer (I could only get away with that because Pokey and Maki had given up and gone back to the bus). The staff looked to be understaffed, running all they could and somehow still managing to seem friendly. Having been a (terrible) waitress once myself, I had to sympathize.

But while I was at the bar I saw the local news on TV. Biggest local news being the blizzard itself, the worst May snowstorm in 40 years, etc. Roads plugged, cars in ditches, the usual stuff plus more. But then came a spectacular video-clip which had just arrived to the TV station: two Sasquatches helping police and firemen with a clump of cars in the snow, many of them wedged and stacked together into a big pile of metal. Adam and Magga, natch.

Several someones had taken cell-phone videos of our favorite Bigfoots wading into that mess of cars, so pressed together that doors couldn't open and people were trapped inside, some hurt in the chain-reaction accidents that had just happened. It was when Adam and Magga began lifting cars between them to unstack them that someone noticed "some kinda supermen" were helping them out. There was some confusion about who these supermen were, because both were wearing clothes and at first just looked more like rilly BIG people than Sasquatches. No one was expecting a Bigfoot sighting just then and visibility was pretty poor in that blizzard anyway. But Adam introduced himself to the cops and soon everyone knew who he was. One of the cops was a S&F fan and within minutes everyone on site was aware that they were being rescued by Adam Leroy Forest and his Bigfoot girl friend, who were on their way with their band to play a concert in St Paul. They both smiled and waved. Caught on camera, what else could they do?

It seems everyone was wowed when Adam and Magga moved a car that was lying on top of another, they each took hold of an end, lifted it up and over to about six feet away so that they could open the car underneath and get some people out. The car they lifted was just a little compact car and there was nobody in it, so between them they probably outweighed it, but it sure LOOKED impressive. Okay, I'm saying that like I could have done it myself, which I couldn't, it's just that we see Freakfoot doing stuff like that all the time. He puts Mell's big & heavy upright piano across his shoulders and goes for a stroll.

So they did whatever "supermen" could to help out the emergency teams, until they were done. Feats of strength, cars being lifted and carried away, metal being bent and so on. Genuine Super Hero stuff. Then we came along in our bus and took them away. So I got to see myself on TV: from far away and through sweaty windows, but hey, I recognized me, which was kinda cool.

So we drove away to this bar, where we were now watching all this on TV. We saw and heard the reaction around us: folk getting excited about real live Bigfoot Heroes in the vicinity, asking about whatever concert they going to play in St Paul? Etc.

We decided to remain anonymous. Pretty much all agreeing not to mention anything that would cause a horde of fans swarming out to our bus for autographs and souvenirs. We also hoped no one in that crowd would recognize us, or follow us back to the busses. But how likely was that in IOWA? Besides, we were all packed into polar jackets against the cold, hoods, hats. Anyway, after one beer we decided to sneak out of there.

We'd been warned not to use the rest rooms, but checked it out on the way by anyway and had to agree that we'd rather not. A lot of traffic had gone through and the staff was understaffed. But at least we got to see some cool graffitti-- I think. Somebody had written "Except Christ Today!" So we got to amuse ourselves by discussing whether they'd been so dumb as to misspell "accept"... or clever enough to put a new twist on a cliché? We ended up having company anyway. Later that night Adam heard some children crying and went out into the blizzard to find a family, 2 parents 4 kids, trying to sleep in their car. Just about freezing with no sleeping bags, only one thin blanket for all 6 of them. So, as not to scare the shit out of them-- Bigfoot looming out of the storm, and all -- he had Maki go invite them to spend the night in our bus. And warn them that they were about to meet 3 sasquatches, but the kids all knew who Adam was-- more S&Ffans --and they had a good time. Adam gave up his wall-to-wall bed in the back for the whole family and he slept on the floor.

But those kids said it was a shame that Adam had to sleep on the floor so they laid down beside him, but ended up sitting on him. Actually, they just wanted contact to be sure he was real and not fake like Santa Claus. So he told them Bigfoot stories for a while, until they fell asleep. It was just so cute. Mel and I fantasized about what a good father he would be. For the first time EVER I actually felt it was too bad we can't have Freakfoot's kids.

But don't worry, I got over that rilly quick! Just had to think about a half-Squatch baby --if it were even possible-- wayyy too big and heavy for my poor little human womb. Would I explode? Let Magga do Squatch kids, she's built for it, I'm sure not.

The next day the blizzard was done. That thankful family invited us to stay with them in Minneapolis some time, then got back into their car and continued on home. We'd discovered that the parents were deeply religious fundamentalist Christians, but luckily they had behaved themselves and caused no real trouble, except that none of us could politely get away with having sex while they were our guests.

We talked it over with our convoy buddies and decided to stay where we were for another day rather than deal with snowy roads. We still had a day before we needed to be in St Paul and figured that by then the freeway should be clear again.

The weather did get nice again, sun came out, snow began to melt. The travel center got less crowded as people resumed their trips, so we could get food in the supermarket or in restaurants, and the roadies hit the 3 bars. The musicians-- well, all the guys --started jamming in the Chrome Pie bus, and somehow all us girls had a ladies' day in the S&F bus. Marcie and Sunny, the two female roadies joined us, since there was no work for them to do and it seemed like fun. Maki was the only one not drinking, even Magga and Masnia tried a beer each. We even jammed a little music ourselves, Mel on piano, me on bass, finding that Marcie could strum some nice chords on a guitar. Then we had more beer.

Mel got philosophical: "As we trundle along on our little cosmic journey, state to state, town to town, scene to scene, bar to bar, 20 people sharing a fate for a while, inherent dramas and comedies are revealed. It's like watching a soap opera, or a Big Brother TV show, just without the bother of an audience." Rilly deep stuff, even more beer, please.

We'd figured out that our sweet innocent 19-year-old Sunny is hot for Mike. But she's already figured out that he's too obsessed by both Liss and me, so she might have to settle for Don, one of her fellow roadies. But Don, like all the other guys on the crew, was only interested in groupies, a new girl after every concert and not about to settle for just one girl friend for the whole tour. Then we learned that our other female roadie, Marcie at 22, was also interested in groupies-- that is, female groupies --being quite gay. And that we all had to watch out for Benny Joe.

Of course those two girls just had to wonder about the situation over in OUR bus: was anybody getting any? Especially interested in Addy's sex-life: assuming he had something going on with either Magga or Masnia-- or maybe even both --but they were pretty sure none of us human chicks would EVER DARE to get too intimate with him. Not that he was unattractive, but being so Big and Hairy, and a buck Bigfoot just had to have a monster cock. So just how big? Frilly girly stuff, you know. Oh and by the way, just WHO was Mike rilly after, Mell or me?

We definitely weren't about to tell them about our scanda-loose sex lives, that had to stay secret-- at least until we knew them a lot better and were sure we could trust them not to blab at the next press conference. They were young and prone to getting loose at after-parties. We liked them, so it was a shame to lock them out of our "inner circle", but we knew it had to be that way. We could just imagine what would happen if --actually, WHEN the media start their pre-concert interviews with: "is it true that your degenerate band is practicing a libidinous lifestyle of promiscuity and ritual orgies?" "And that all Nokhons go berserk for sex every full moon?" None of us like lying, even tho we can if we have to, but Freakfoot can't lie at all. We'd probably never be able to finish our tour if the truth was revealed. Sent home in disgrace, etc.

Or we might be celebrated as TRUE rock heroes, who can say? Chrome Pie have been getting away with degenerate behavior for years. What about the Rolling Stones? At some point the truth will probably come out, but best not in the middle of this concert tour. We need to earn some money.

Which reminds me, Si called this morning to tell us that we have now been rescheduled for 2 concerts in St Paul, both Tuesday and Wednesday evenings. Because of those videos on St Paul's local TV, of Adam and Magga rescuing cars in the snow storm. "You can't BUY publicity like that," Si said.

Now it's Tuesday morning. The freeway is clear of snow, we are free! The sun is shining, sky blue-blue, what an amazing difference. Must be the merry month of May once again. We should be in St Paul, Minnesota in a couple of hours.

Hey, according to Google, St Paul should be "the most liveable city in America". But when you ask why it's blizzarding and snowing in May, the best answer you can get is "because it's Minnesota". So. Guess we'll see.