Boozefighters
MC 6
Boozefighters
MC 6
Grass Valley
Born in Los Gatos, California and raised in Barstow. Fubar raced off road motorcycles and played around with old cars as a hobby.
Some have said he was a hell raiser and he did get in a little trouble now and again. On one occasion as he was standing before a Judge he was offered jail time or Army time. He picked the Army and wound up in Viet Nam. He reached the rank of Specialist 4 and was discharged as a disabled Veteran. Fubar never said much about that time in his life.
He was a carpenter by trade and could pound nails with the best of them. Given a choice though, he would rather play then work. He did both hard.
We called him Fubar ( f---ed up beyond all repair). A name given to him by my fiancée. I sponsored him into the Boozefighters and he passed his prospectorship with flying colors, taking the oath on February 23, 2001.
Yes, Fubar was a Boozefighter alright, he wasn't afraid of anything but had a good attitude about everything. He liked to hang out at Big Daddys motorcycle shop. One day we were all sitting around Big Daddys swimming pool, (he was a prospect then) and Streak asked for a beer from another prospect, who choose to ignore the request. (that prospect never did become a Boozefighter). So Fubar jumped up to get the beer for Streak and someone said "You need to be barefoot", Didn't faze him, he just kicked his boots off, ran over and got the beer. That was our brother. If it needed to be done, however it needed to be done, he was going to do it. ( a lot of us were glad it was just bare footed and not bare naked).
About 16 of us met in Auburn and took a ride to Las Vegas. What a ride that was. We get to Vegas, rolling down Main Street and we spot a couple of ladies, who it seems spotted us and one of them in a mini skirt bent over ever so nicely. Well, Fubar saw that butt and like a moth to a flame he was heading for it. He ended up spending a large chunk of change on them in the Hard Rock Cafe and followed them all over Vegas until he got lost. He said he was never lost, just didn't quite know where he was at. He called a friend in Colfax and explained his situation only to get laughter as a response. While he was waiting for his friend to get a grip, he fumbled around in his pocket and found his motel key, had an address and everything. He may not have known where he was at, but at least now he knew where he needed to go. He hung up the phone, he had a destination now. He showed up in the wee hours of the morning mumbling something about "this is one big assed town".
Fubar was also known as one of the three "Amigos" of the Boozefighters. We were always goofing off. Fubar, Egor and Lead Foot. What times we had.
Fubar my brother, you will always ride with us in spirit.
Your Brother
Lead Foot
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