Alien Run 2015

Getting rowdy at the all-bikes-welcome run to Area 51

Was I going to get probed? abducted? sacrificed?! Who knew, all I knew was that I had 7 hours of riding through terrible weather to get to the 2015 Alien Run, and I wasn't slowing down for the rain. I knew I wouldn't know anyone out there and I was riding alone but the words from my buddy Fish echoed in my head:

"Go. It's crazy. It's one of the best."

So I went.

It seemed that most people rode out from Vegas together that morning but I left SoCal around 10. The ride out was brutal. I hit sandstorms, rain, hail and an incredible amount of wind. Let's just say that by the time I got out there I was hurtin' for a beer and when I pulled up a stranger handed me one. Those were the vibes of the party. Not everyone knew each other, but everyone loves to ride and was down to talk bikes and shoot the shit while making a couple new friends.

I had never heard of a "slow race" before, but the guys had one push, then it was no throttle, no brake, just milking idle in First and trying to go in a straight line. It was really hilarious watching everyone floundering around and almost setting the bike down just to keep their feet up. Some big ole dude on a DOHC CB750 took it.

alien run 2015

Once the sun started to set we all headed into the bar at the Little A'le'inn for the raffle. It was all good rowdy fun, when a guy won a crop-top or a halter: congrats, that's your outfit for the night. A couple big bottles of whiskey from Las Vegas Distillery were up for raffle but were cracked open and passed around to everyone in the bar instead. Nobody minded.

As the night went on, the expected hooliganry ensued. Naked dudes jumping over the fire pit, a couple buddies rasslin' in the dirt, people passing around their homemade whiskeys (both of the ones I tried were delicious), burnouts and all sorts of other fun, stupid stuff you do when you're out drinking and camping. People started to taper off as the fire died down and a bunch of the guys headed out to a hangar they had rented to keep the party going, but I wasn't about to hop back on my bike as it was 2 a.m. and I'd had... more than one.

In the morning, a free breakfast of biscuits and gravy with sausage was served before we headed back out on the road. I slugged a gritty cup of coffee and hopped on the bike. I wasn't 20 miles down the road before my stomach started grumbling. Something about the combination of homemade apple whiskey, corn whiskey, beers, and whatever else I drank the night before wasn't sitting right in my stomach. Weird. Forgetting that I had just slurped that big cup of cowboy coffee, I figure I'll go ahead and trust a fart. Never trust a fart. Not after a night like that. After riding a few miles hating my life and second guessing everything I have ever done to get me to that point, I picked up some wet-wipes and took care of business. With my dignity left at the Little A'le'inn, I headed home.

For an event that required attendees to ride through a minimum of two hours of patchy rain and camp in inclement weather, it was incredibly fun. All good vibes and real people just getting out and riding their bikes. Sure, we all missed out on the trailer queens at Laughlin this weekend, but we would rather be riding.

This event is put on by Brent M Gonzales and Roy Nealy with the help of all their sponsors and supporters. Thanks for throwing an awesome event, guys.