We knew it was bound to happen.

Choppers in the air, FBI with 12» telephoto lenses cleverly concealed in black sedans and tall grass plus more State Police than flies at a July picnic. They were poised, ready, alert and on-guard en masse.

For weeks they have been working with local law enforcement in surrounding states, going over list after list of known trouble makers: Other gangs. Other gang wannabees. Renegade bad boys.

They were ready...or so they thought.

Then, amid the security, in the hot mid-afternoon sun, a local gang took to the pavement and walked proudly up Hwy 62 to the Hells Angels command post--led, of course, by Ms. Margie, founder of the local chapter of the notorious Red Hat Ladies.

Behind her, the gang wore their colors and gave the matriarch of muster backup as they marched high heeled, hatted and proud into the young whipper-snapper's compound.

While we are well aware of Sonny Barger's patriarchal position and respect his living legend, you have to realize that Sonny was, well, dare we say «Sonny Boy?»

Back in 1938 when he was born, Ms Margie was 24 and, while her daddy thought she was an angel, she was raising hell and lots of it while Sonny was still in diapers.

Some things don't change. Some things are predictable.

Making her way through the tattooed, muscled crowd, Ms. Margie finally came to meet one of whom we assume is one of the big dogs.

Next thing we know, he has fired up the Hog and Ms Margie is crawling up on the back. We guess she wanted to see just how bad this mere child of around 60 really was.

Of course, this was not before the FBI started snapping hastily with their telephotos from across the street. Some Gov Geek was probably running the red and purple gang photos through the computer.

(Note to self: Contact FBI and see if they need close ups. Being across street and shooting pictures through the Christian Family traffic jam may not have produced clear shots.)

In a roar of loud pipes, Ms. don't-fuck-with-me-fellas took off east on 62--purple skirt and red hat blazing. Her gang waited patiently and made sure all was going to be nice and quiet. They didn't come looking for trouble; they brought peace offerings of Cheetos and bottled bad ass water.

A short while later, the two gang riders...uh, excuse me, one motorcycle club member and one gang member returned to cheers from all.

The Red Hatters were doing the photo ops and some of the out of town ladies came over to meet the «bitch that didn't fall off.» They liked her garters around those purple hosed thighs.

By this time the ever scary Game, Fish, Wildlife posse had shown up to give some backup in case the impending rumble over the Cheeto- (not Bandito you goofballs. It's Cheetos!) carrying local rowdies were to ensue.

About this time, another one of the youngsters in leather showed up and wanted to put the matriarch on HIS Harley. So off they went hand in hand through two parking lots, across the highway to another motel to grab his ride.

The next we see is they are wailing down the highway all cuddled up like young lovers out for a Saturday drive. We're getting worried now.

This buff bad boy is young enough to be her grandson and while we know the HA's have some pretty stringent initiations, we fear that this older woman may just lead him astray and teach him things he may not be ready for.

Sorry fellas if she plumb ruined him.

Meanwhile in the concession trailer, two helpful sales clerks found just the right patch for the rival gang leader to sport. Yes, Ms. Margie now has a «Support 81 Forever» patch to wear proudly when flying her colors.

Her other gang members did a fine job of occupying the time of the HA's and the FBI. Good job girls!

After Ms. Margie's second return trip there were more photos and stories swapped and our local girl gang assured the visiting team they wouldn't have any trouble from from the Red Hat Ladies while crusing red & purple turf.

All ended well and the last we saw the Hells Angels, Ms. Margie and her gang, they were at the ice cream joint down the street--young tattooed boys enjoying a double dip cone with a bunch of seasoned warriors sipping lemonade.

Welcome to Eureka boys.

Negotiations declared to be a success by RH gang and HA MC members

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