MISSION REPORT:
Red Bulls "A" Company 2-135 INF

Report from the escorts:

Thursday, July 10th, 2008 it was a good day to be from West St Paul. It started out with much trepidation and anticipation. Will my VTX make the 150 mile trip to Dresbach, MN on a single tank of gas? Or more to the point will it make it back to West St Paul as an escort for our returning troops on a single tank of gas? As a lifelong resident of West St. Paul I specifically looked forward to this mission. When I entered the IGH Petrol Pumper I could see the PGR laughing as they watched me ride in to greet them. Ron asked, "You're here for the West St. Paul ride?" "Yep." I answered. They all smiled and said, "Well you're about six hours early!" Seems the military in their infinite wisdom decided at the last minute to change the itinerary and I in my infinite laziness had decided to sleep a little longer instead of going to the office and check my e-mail. Oh, well it was a great morning and the Petrol Pumper station clerk was nice enough to give us a free cup of coffee for our troubles.

At around noon a heck of a storm blew though the south east metro area and the motorcycle escort mission was in doubt. I hated the thought of caging it as I know our troops like to see us ride the bikes, almost as much as we like to ride. But the good Lord saw fit to break the clouds and let the sun shine on the troops. The State Trooper was kind enough to let me suggest a route that would keep the escort together with little or no problems from the knuckleheads, read cagers, that wanted to break in line. Not that we didn't have our moments with a couple of cell phone users that didn't comprehend the flashing red lights and loud sirens. But I believe a couple of well placed hand gestures and a few verbal commands from Ron helped them understand. They complied willingly of course.

When we entered West St Paul's southern tip of South Robert Street the trooper peeled off the road and sprayed us with mud, but aside from that he was great and the troops were less than 10 minutes from home. Four of WSTP'S finest picked us up and headed north. At the first stop light two of the largest fire trucks I've ever seen joined the escort and we had all the flashing lights and blaring sirens a proper parade could accommodate. Strobe lights insured green lights as we crawled along the middle of state highway 52, aka South Robert Street. Ride Captain Tim and I flanked the fire trucks, the rest of the PGR in line, and two Motor Coaches full of troops in tow. Several of the cages had no idea how to pull over with such a large entourage coming at them so they just stopped in their tracks. This made the escort swerve, sway, and shimmer like a belly dancer at a Lake Minnetonka bachelor party. It was a good day to be from West St. Paul.

Minnesota Mark