Aztec Treasure

Maria Meztli’s POV

Ashland, Wisconsin

The Lake Superior shoreline took us south until we reached the harbor town of Ashland. The Apostle Island tour had taken up a big chunk of the day, so we were stopping here for the night. In the Superior Tour, this would be where we would decide to go home or see the Apostles.

Our group pulled into the parking lot of the Deepwater Grille and South Shore Brewery. It was on my list of stops, and it smelled wonderful as we got off our bikes. We went inside, and Roadkill led everyone over to the brewpub side. “We’re here!”

“My brother!” I recognized Bear and Howler, leaders of the Manchester Steel Brotherhood chapter, from their visit to Arrowhead. Both of them hugged me, with Howler telling me how good I looked in my cut. I got introduced to Vice-President Throttle and his old lady, Nutcracker, and finally Prospect Tim.

“What are you guys doing here,” I asked as we sat down at the long table with them.

Howler was so excited to see us. “Possum said you were on a road trip, and we wanted in. We loaded up our sleds and rode here as quick as we could.”

“You didn’t ride?”

“It’s almost a 24-hour drive. The guys did tanks, and I relaxed. I’d rather sleep in the third row of the Excursion than on the back of his Harley,” Howler said.

“We’re taking their truck and trailer back to New Hampshire, Maria,” Rick said. “The Feds raided Arrowhead looking for Spider, and they are bound to look for us too. We’re staying at Bear’s place until things calm down. Since we aren’t in the Club, no one will be looking for us there.”

“So, we figured we could ride with you until you get to Sault Ste. Marie and head home from there,” Bear finished. “We heard you aren’t in any hurry, and that sounds good to us. Take the time and enjoy life.”

“What about the Prospect,” Lance asked.

“He gets to drive the minivan,” Bear said. The poor prospect just rolled his eyes; getting into a biker club required all kinds of distasteful tasks. “You can put him on a plane when you get home.”

The waitress came by to take drink orders; since I was the youngster in the group, I had a Coke while everyone else was sampling the South Shore Brewery beers. Bear ordered three kinds of chicken wings, stuffed mushrooms, cheese curds, and onion rings for appetizers. His appetite fit right in with the Pack.

“I have to ask,” I said as I looked across at Nutcracker, the curvy blonde with ice-blue eyes.

“My road name?” I nodded. “I was on a charity ride in the White Mountains twelve years ago, me and some girlfriends, and we stopped at a bar.” Throttle started rolling his eyes, so I knew this was good. “I was heading to the bathroom when someone bumped into me, almost knocking me down. Someone grabbed me just in time, but he grabbed my tits instead of my waist. I stood up, turned to the guy, and kneed him in the balls so hard it lifted him off his feet. He dropped to the floor and threw up on my legs. I screamed that he was a ‘fucking pervert’ and ran for the bathroom. It took me ten minutes to get my boots and jeans cleaned up. I get outside, and Throttle is there with Howler. He apologizes for grabbing my tits, and I learned he wasn’t the asshole who knocked me over. I forgave him, he bought me dinner, we went up to his room, and he’s been grabbing my tits ever since.”

I was laughing hard. “After that shot, he could still get it up?”

“Hell, no. Throttle could barely ride back. He was stuffing bags of frozen peas into his jeans at the Clubhouse, but the rest of him still worked.” She started laughing to herself. "It worked REALLY well."

Maritza loved the cheese curds and the kid’s pizza while I tried the Lake Superior Whitefish dinner. The food was excellent, but the kid was falling asleep, and it was time for us to go. “Stay with them if you want,” I told Lance. “I’ll see you at the motel.”

“We’re going too,” Rick said. “It’s a good twenty-four hours of driving if you don’t go into Canada, and I’ve got the first shift.”

We said our goodnights, and the Betas made sure we made it into our rooms before they got back on the road. It was a short ride back to the family-owned motel, and it only took a minute to get our keys. We parked right outside the doors.

Brenda’s room was next to ours, with a connecting door in between. “I can keep her with me if you want some private time,” she told me.

“No, you should go have some fun, maybe meet some people,” I told her. She just laughed at me. “I’ll watch you guys until Lance is back, then I’m going to bed. All that greasy food is going to go right through me!”

Maritza didn’t even wake up as I put her in her jammies and tucked her into the second bed in our room. I saw Brenda set a pistol on the bedside table; I didn’t even know she had one. “All the nannies have their permits,” she told me. “We protect the children, after all.”

“Thank you.” I took a shower, pulled on a sleep shirt, and was out like a light as soon as I put my head down. I didn’t even wake when Lance came in.

I woke up to Maritza calling for me. I was in Lance’s arms, and it was six in the morning. Brenda and I took Maritza out to play on the lawn as we watched the sun coming up. It was cold out but no wind yet, and we enjoyed the view of the lake right across the road from us. We crossed over to do some exploring along the lakeshore trail, then picked up some coffees at the Kwik Trip across the street. Lance woke up when we got back.

By eight, everyone was up. We had a big breakfast before the next leg, exploring a side trip to Copper Harbor. About a four-hour ride to the northeast, the round-trip around a long point sticking out into Lake Superior would be another optional destination. The detour promised good riding, a spa, and a potential place to stop for the night before heading home.

Our biker group was bigger by two now, and since the Manchester leadership outranked us, they led the way, single file. We took our time, enjoying the ride through the hills and small mountains. It led away from the lake, but there were plenty of smaller lakes that we passed. Lake Superior came back into view in the last hour of the ride, appearing through the trees to our left.

There wasn’t a continuous road along Lake Superior, but some left and rejoined the main drag. We took one of these at Houghton, a fun ride that ended in Osceola. We stopped for lunch at the Michigan House Café and Brewpub. (Yes, there is a pattern here.) It was fun having no time pressure on our adventure, and we stayed there for almost two hours.

Farther to the northeast, we headed for Five Mile Point Road and ended up along a stretch of deserted lakeshore. We found a place to park and took some time to explore. Maritza was happy because we shifted, along with all the wolves in the group. The bikers watched us play and explore along the dunes and driftwood until Maritza was ready for her nap. The road took us past Eagle Harbor Lighthouse before reaching Copper Harbor. We could see the lighthouse across the water, but it was on private land.

We stopped for the night at the Mariner North Lodge, eating dinner at the restaurant. It was a little tight since they didn’t have enough rooms, so Brenda stayed with us in our room with two queen beds. It didn’t matter; we were so tired after the day we all slept hard.

The next day we continued the loop but on the south side of the point. It was a cold but scenic ride to the bottom of Keweenaw Bay. The road then led away from the lake through hardwood forests, so we made good time until we got to the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Finally, we stopped for lunch at the Dunes Saloon & Lakeside Brewing Company in Grand Marais. Everyone was having a great time; other than the cold winds, the route was a blast to ride.

We stopped at the Point Iroquois Lighthouse and took the tour, which was fun. We kept going south, stopping for the night at the Bay Mills Resort and Casino. Lance had explained that the Native Casinos had plenty of hotel rooms but weren’t subject to State laws and didn’t exchange registration information with the Feds. Maritza didn’t care because our suite had a whirlpool tub and a fireplace.

Our last group activity was to tour the Locks on the St. Mary’s River that separated Lake Superior from Lake Huron. Maritza was fascinated by the big ships going through. We said our goodbyes to the Manchester group; they were a lot of fun, but we’d see them soon and do the whole tour. I promised we'd visit Manchester as soon as Lance had his Steel Brotherhood cut. The prospect stayed to drive the minivan, and the rest of us headed out on our Harleys to Interstate 75.

Lance and I had talked about it; we couldn’t go north, as the Alphas didn’t want a record of us crossing the border. We hadn’t gotten the all-clear to come home either. I didn’t want to repeat the same path, so we decided to head south towards Traverse Bay on Lake Michigan.

We spent three days riding exploring the tourist towns on the eastern side of Lake Michigan before Brenda got a call saying we were safe to return. We were eating breakfast at the Little River Casino Resort near Manistee, about halfway down the east side of the lake. To get home, we’d either continue south through Chicago or backtrack to Sault Ste. Marie.

That was when the Prospect caught the line heading across the lake on the map. “What about the ferry?”

It was one of the best ideas of the whole trip. We made it to Ludington in time to take the SS Badger, a big passenger ferry, for the four-hour cruise across the lake. Maritza loved it, the boat had shopping, food, and drink, and it was a beautiful day to be out on the water. We braved the cold and ate our lunches on the ferry’s top deck at the end of our ride. It left us in Manitowac (south of Green Bay) in Wisconsin.

We all wanted to get home, so we only stopped for gas and dinner. We arrived just before sundown, the gate opened for us to head in. I didn’t miss the FBI agents parked by the entrance. “What is going on with the Feds?”

Chase answered. “Unload and get Maritza to bed. Then we can talk in my office.”

I didn’t miss that Spider Monkey’s home was dark, with crime scene tape over the door.