Bike Week - Friday, February 27

This morning I headed north to Flagler Beach to drop off the March issue of DBI at Tri City Cycles and then just rode around to get the feel of what was happenin'. I was pretty surprised about the number of bikes here already. Traffic was okay along A1A (Oceanshore Blvd. or Atlantic Avenue, depending where you are), but man it was a bitch gittin' over the causeways across the Intracoastal Waterway. I was ridin' the Dixie Glide and comin' over the bridge to US Hwy 1 when the bike started suckin' air and sputterin' a bit. "Damn, what in the hell is wrong now? I wondered to myself. "Just what I need - a cranky bike on the first day of Bike Week.
I ain't a wrench so I figured I better not take any chances so I just hung a left to head south instead of headin' north on Hwy 1 as was the original plan. My local shop. Crank 'n Chrome Cycle is in Holly Hill so I figured I'd better head there. I pulled up and Bryan says, "Man, that sounds like crap. Might be exhaust intake seal of head gasket."

"Wonderful," I thought while walkin' in the shop to talk with Barry, the owner. "What bad timing. And all their lifts were fulluva bikes, and four mechanices workin' hard. Long story short ... Barry comes out listens to it and says, "I think it's the head casket, bro, but we can't check it til it cools down. That'll be a couple of hours, but if that's the problem, we'll get it fixed.
"Okay," I replied, "But I ain't gonna be able to get it til Sunday. We got our party tomorrow at Trader Jack's in DeLand. Is that okay?"
"No problem." he said. "I'll give you a call later today."
And he did - definitely a head gasket. Gonna cost me about 400 bucks. But that's what ya gotta do when you ride around on a wore-out 1990 FLH with over 200k on the odometer. Dang. Luckily, Phil had been down in New Smyrna - Edgewater delivering the magazine to advertisers so he could swing by and pick me up and take me home to pick up the Sportster to continue my day. While I waited, I figured I might as well take som pictures of traffic on Hwy 1 ...

Above - you see more 'n more Sport Bikes every year in Daytona at Bike Week. I think it's kinda cool, but lotsa ol' skool Harley riders ain't too happy about it. To me it's about Bike Week gettin' back to it's roots. After-all the original reason for Bike Week was to race on the beaches, and hang out with each other after the day's races were finished. Now there's a couple of hundred thousand motorcycles in Daytona for Bike Week, but probably only 5 or 6,000 race fans at the Speedway for the races. Anyhow, I like to see the young folks, men and women, on the sport bikes. When I was their age I had a '72 XLCH, but I also had one of those Kawasaki Ninjas. As I got older and the sport bikes got faster, I migrated to the FLH and the cruiser market. I still like the Sport bikes only I'm smart enuff to not ride 'em. I know I'd still get that "need for speed" and roll the throttle a lot more than I should. I'll just be like the gray beard below, cruise and enjoy the wind in my hair ...Below - Traffic's a bitch on US Hwy 1 and folks just keep using it as their primary way to get north to south or vice versus. That's crazy. Two blocks to the east is the continuation of Beach Street and it's relatively traffic free. The speed limit is 25 mph in Holly Hill, but it goes to 35 mph in Ormond Beach, plus it's a pretty ride along the river, is only two lanes (no semis or SUVs blastin' past you), and has only one traffic light and zero stop signs between Seabreeze Blvd. and Granada Blvd. A much better choice to get from North to South than either Hwy 1 or Hwy A1A.

After Phil picked me up, I headed home, got our subscriptions done and mailed off then loaded up the pick up truck with all our gear for our Parties at Deadwood Saloon and Trader Jack's Roadside. Boots and I went over to Deadwood Saloon for their Friday Night Kick Off party and there was a pretty good crowd already on hand when we got there around 4 o'clock ...

Lotsa vendors showin' their wares and assets ...

And, once again, a traffic nightmare on Hwy 1 - below. Deadwood Saloon is right across the street and just north of the Iron Horse Saloon. The traffic in the picture is all on that side of the street with folks tryin' to jam in to the IHS ...

... while the east side of the Highway, where I was standin' at the entrance to Deadwood for the picture below, is clear sailing (Look at the traffic behind the bikes in the southbound lanes - holy moly). Why would folks sit in traffic to pull in to the IHS (and pay higher prices for drinks and food?) instead of pullin' in here, grabbin' a cold one and scopin' out the hot barmaids or vendors? Guess I'll never be able to figure that one out.

Smiles for everyone ...

One of our awesome local bands, The Double Barrel Band, was crankin' 'em out on the backyard stage ...

and did a couple of requests from folks enjoyin' the evening.

Mid afternoon temperatures were around 70 or so, and there wasn't a threatening cloud in the sky. It was a great day to be in Florida, that's for sure.

I'd seen this ol' panhead chopper while wanderin' around the back yard at Deadwood Saloon and then was lucky enugg to catch the dude as he rode out later on. Nice ride. And loooong.

During Double Barrel's next band break, I wandered around front to check on Boots at the bar and to see what was happenin when I hear, "Yo, Monk! Over here!" I turned around and met John and Jock, a couple of readers from Jacksonville. I snapped a picture, wandered over shook their hands and we shot the shit for awhile. "Y'all gonna be at the Party on the 21st at the Smokin' Beaver," I asked as I put my camera away?

"Hell, yeah! That's gonna be a parttttttttttttty!"

"I'll see ya there, then. Thanks for readin'."

I rounded up Boots and headed back to the car parking area since we were in the pick up truck, and folks were hangin' doin' what we do ....

But Boots was hurtin' since she didn't listen to me and bring her wheel chair. "I'll be fine with the walker," she insisted. "I don't wanna stop you from doin' your picture thing by havin' to push me around in a wheel chair all day"

Well, it was probably too much too soon and she wasn't a very happy camper, that's for sure, as we headed to the next stop on our Bike Week adventures ...

Tomorrow, Saturday, February 28th is our tradional Bike Week Kick Off Party at Trader Jack's Roadside in DeLand. And if the past is any indication, we'll have our huge crowds. We're excited, forecast is for copious sunshine and temps near 80 degrees. Yeee haw!

I hope to have some stuff posted for you on Sunday about how that went.

Bike Week 2009 Blog - The Day Before

For those that don't know us, we're a lil ol' magazine named Dixie Biker Illustrated covering what bikers do in the northern half of Florida. The word Illustrated is in our name for a reason, namely cuz we take lotsa pictures. Since we be po' white scooter trash from the Southland, our spelling and grammer may not be up to some 'elitest' standards, but pictures don't lie. And we take lotsa pictures.
Welcome to our Bike Week Blog. I'm gonna try and do it every morning before we head out for the day or evening, but who knows if I'll be able to maintain the schedule. Shit happens, ya know? A couple six or seven ABs (adult beverages), a little late night-early mornin' carousin' and who knows what y'all might get for the day. Plus I may be sleepin' in and forget all about the blog post for the day. Oh well. We'll do our best.

Wedensday, February 25 was two days before Bike Week, we'd gotter our two magazines to print, bills paid, bus cleaned up and parked at Deadwood Saloon and all our party supplies ere loaded up for our parties next week. I had a 'free' day to just kinda chill. Right. Turned out I didn't get a 'free' day to goof off and relax. I hadda take Boots to Mt. Dora from Daytona Beach so her girlfriend, CheezeStyx, could work her magic on her hair for Bike Week. Boot's still can't drive due to her broken left leg (She's got one of 'em little Mitsubishi Spyders with a manual tranny), so I had to do the drivin' chores. An hour and a half over there, two or three hours gettin' 'color' in her hair and an hour and a half ride back so she can get her hair done for Bike Week. Man! Plus, she's gonna be ridin' two up on our DixieGlide, she doesn't wear a helmet, we haul ass on lotsa back roads, but she's gotta git her friggin' hair "Hot for Bike Week?!!?" Man, gimme a break. But y'all know women and I reckon that's 'bout 'nuff said. Jeez. Hair hot for Bike Week when she's gonna be ridin' all the time. With no helmet. Holy moly,
So the trip's goin' fine til we hit the little town of Pine Lakes on Hwy 44 just west of the St. Johhn's River. Traffic's at a standstill. After about fifteen or twenty minutes of waitin' an ol' boy pulls up in a pickup and told us two dump trucks, a semin fullla fuel and a pickup truck hadda nasty accident. "You're gonna hafta go back to Hwy 42 and go around, man. Cops say it's gonna be three hours."
Man. We called CheezStyx, told her we were gonna be a little late and headed back east, hooked a left and headed to Paisley on Hwy 42. Pretty road for ridin' if you're lookin' for some twisties and some nice countryside. (and there's a great place to cool your engine just on the west end of town - The Pirate's Pub - year round biker friendly hangout. Anyhow, we're just cruisin' down Hwy 42 when I slam on the brakes and do a u-ey in the middle of the road. "What the hell are you doin', Boots explained, spillin' a little natty light in her lap. "Damn, Monk!"
You didn't see that house back there," I asked. "Dude's got penises growin' in his front yard and I gotta git a picture for next month's Nuts an' Bolts section of the magazine."
She was kinda speecless, but after nine years on the magazine, she's used to this kinda thing. "Well, next time warn me, asshole!"
So I went back and took a picture of the penises growin' in this guys front yard. Guess some folks got lots of time on their hands . . .

So after I got the picture it was back on the road to Blow Hair Salon in Mt. Dora. I dropped Boots off, her and Cheezestyx were jabberin' away about highlights and low lights and wispy and sassy and all kindsa shit I know nuthin' about so I hauled ass to hook up with our Lake County writer, Hark, and grab some lunch at The Frosty Mug in Mt. Dora. We discussed some plans for the Leesburg Bike Fest next month then he hadda haul ass and I still had a couple of hours to kill.
"What the hell," I thought, "I'll run over to Gator Harley-Davidson, say "Hey" to the Mailiks and see what.s happening." I had a couple of hundred of our Bike Week Guides in the trunk and figured I'd dropp some off for our readers.
Well I'm wanderin' around the store and there's a whole lotta folks buyin' stuff, lookin' at this an' that and fillin' the Harley Shop. We spent twelve years in Germany while I was in the Army, plus we have German friends that visit every year (many of y'all have met Bobby and Biggy), and this large group definitely looked European to me. I wandered up to a fellow wearin' a shirt with this on the front and said, "Y'all ain't from 'round heah, now ar' ya?"

Dude looked at me with a stange expression and said, "Please. I didn't understand."
So I gave him a break and asked seriously, "You have a pretty big group. Are you from Europe?"
"Yes, we're from Norway and Sweden. A minute. I get the chief." And he was off.

A few minutes later a tall, lanky dude in shorts, leather zip up boots, unzipped, a leather jacket on and big ol' video camera hangin' off his shoulder walks up, hand extended and says, as I shake his hand, "Hi. My name is Arve Stallvik (only reason I know that is cuz he wrote his name and info down in my book. I sure could pronouce it!) and I'm the Tour Director of our crew of Harley riders. We've just ridden in from Los Angeles."

"Holy shit! LA. Wow. No kiddin'!"

He went on to explain he operated the World's Largest Route 66 Tour Company, and they were Eagle Rider's biggest customers every year. How 'bout that. I ended up gettin' this group shot:

Last summer he brought over 1,000 bikers from Sweden and Norway. They fly into Chicago, pick up Harleys, then ride Route 66 to LA. The entire route. How cool is that? Wonder how many American bikers have done that.

They stay very busy from May to September, obviuosly, and they they have a couple of other tours each year. This one was flying into LA, picking up bikes from Eagle Rider and ridin' from LA to Orlando along a southern route, Ten days, 3,0000 miles. Wow. I reckon Eagle Rider needs the rental bikes in Central Florida for Bike Week so they probably got a pretty good rate. Anyhow, we chit chatted and then I got a couple of shots of them pullin' out to head to Orlando to turn in the bikes. They were staying through Bike Week, only in cars, and said they'd drop by our party at Trader Jack's on Saturday, Feb, 28th. I'll let y'all know if they show up. The coolest things happen and you meet the coolest folks when you least expect it. THis is why I could never stop ridin' (even though that day I was in Boots' car.) Ya never know who you'll meet or what you'll see around the next curve or at the end of the day's ride.

From Gator Harley I dropped by and shot the shit with one of my bros, Doug, Cheezestyx's husband, since I figured I still hadda an hour to kill. When I pulled up to his shop he was changin' fluids in his Road Glide gettin' ready for Bike Week. "Wassup?" I said as strolled in the shop.

"Waitin' on gears and other parts for these two jobs," he said as he pointed out some busted up gears and a chevy van. Doug makes gears, tranny's, struts, shocks and all kinds a shit I don' know nuthin' about for four wheelers, mudders, boggers, bikes, choppers and even for those pimped up, blinged out Escalades and shit with 24" wheels on 'em. "This dude's got these 28" wheels and tore out the whole rear end," he said as he showed me a buncha gears with chewed out teeth. "And of course he has to have tomorrow."

"Well, ya gotta make the money when ya can," I said. "What's it cost to have you machine new gears and shit like that?"

"Depends" he said, "On how much machinin' I gotta do and buncha of other stuff. But it's no problem for this guy. Those wheels and tires ... $14,000." Doug musta seen my jaw drop cuz he said, "Yeah, man. Those wheels and tires alone cost almost as much as my Road Glide."

"Damn, man. We ain't doin' something right. I sure can't afford that shit!" I said, shakin' my head. Wow."

My cell rang as I was still tryin' to sort out 14 grand for a set of wheels, I answered and Boots asked, "Where ya at?" That's what she said, but ya gotta be able to read between the lines and what she was really askin' was, "Where in the hell are you?! I'm done and you better get yer ass over here." I did.

I picked her up and on the way back to Daytona stopped in at the Oasis Saloon on Hwy 46 in downtown Sorrento to say "Hey" to Jeff, the owner, and drop off some of our Bike Week Guides. Great little local waterin' hole on the country by-ways. As I'm walkin' back out to the car, I hear a shout, "Hey, Monk!" I turn around and the dude says, "Yeah, it really is you!!" He points to his buddy and says, "See I told you that was Monk! Told ya, told ya, told ya ... you owe me a beer. Ha ha."

Then he turns back to me and says, "This is too cool. I know I'd see you at the Bike Week Kick Off party at Trader Jack's on Saturday, but to see you today is awesome. Love the magazine, man, and one of these days I'm gonna get my picture in there."

"What's wrong with right now?" I asked. "Lemme get my camera outta the car." I came back and snapped a couple of shots. That's FMP Bobby on the left and his bro, Chris. And then, after I take the picture, Bobby's complainin' "Damn! I'm finally gonna have my picture in DBI and I ain't even got my biker clothes on."

"What's your point?" I asked. "Clothes don't make a biker. It's in your heart, man. Who gives a rats ass what you're wearin'?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right,"

As I headed back out the the car I thanked 'em for readin' and told 'em, "Get my attention on Saturday when you're in your "Biker gear" and I'll get another picture. We appreciate the support. Thanks for readin'"

Then it was on into DeLand and we're gettin' hungry so we stopped for a 'quick' burger, fries and cold one at Trader jack's Roadside where we're havin' our party on Saturday, and after finishin' the chow and just as we're leavin' Lisa, the owner, comes around the corner, hugs our necks, orders another round and yada yada yada .... Three hours later we were finally headin' back to the coast. But y'all know that's a good thing. Hangin' with good folks at a good place with no time contraints. Gotta enjoy it and take it while you can.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

On Thursaday, February 26th, my son Phillip and I began distribution of the March issue of Dixie Biker ... to be continued after I fill my belly!

Phil delivered the magazines to our South Central and West moto-journalist while I headed to Palatka, Jacksonville and points in between. Whew - what a long day in traffic, especially in Jacksonville. Had to head all the way over to the beach in Mayport to visit Jax Biker Gear to pick up some of our give-aways, shirts, hats, toboggens and more. Than it was to Tim and Christy's house to drop off mags, invoices and money for them. Then it was on to I-95 to head back south. There were lotsa trailers haulin' bikes and I think there's gonna be a good turn out for Bike Week. The weather's been so crappy up north this winter and even though the economy sucks, I think folks have save up and are on their way ...

I stopped the White Eagle (above) on the way home to drop off the March issue of Dixie Biker and a couple of bundles of the Bike Week Guide, and they already had quite a crowd. Remember, the official start of Bike Week is Friday and this was Thursday night. But the White Eagle Lounge is an always happenin' place and one of our favorite hangouts, not only during Bike Week but throughout the year.

After a cold one and a walk around to check out the vendor set ups, I headed south on US Hwy 1 towards Ormond Beach. The traffic mess at Destination Daytona was already in play, but the full brunt of this bottlwneck won't be felt til the weekend, and doubly choked the weekend of March 6 - 8. The bikes below are coming out of Destination Daytona to head south.

Above - On US Hwy 1 between Destination Daytona and the Ormond Strip. Below - I dropped off mags at Finnegan's Tavern and Deadwood Saloon and then headed home It'd been along day and tomorrow is the start of Bike Week -- gotta get geared up for that.

Dixie Biker Bike Week Events

Folks have been askin', so we're gonna post our events here. And we'll blog after each one of 'em and include lotsa pictures.

February 28, 2009 (Saturday)
DeLand. Dixie Biker Illustrated's Bike Week Kick Off Party at Trader Jack's Roadside, 4425 N Hwy 17. (After the Downtown DeLand Bike Rally) Kick off your Bike Week with a Bike Week tradition! Free bikes only parking, no rip off prices, a great ride in the country, live music, vendors, bike games, wet t-shirt contest, best chaps contests (Male & Female), vibrator races, give aways and more. 4 pm til the wee hours.

March 3, 2009 (Tuesday)
Ormond Beach. Dixie Biker's Free Back Roads Poker Run. Meet at Deadwood Saloon, 1080 N US Hwy 1 at 9:30 am for free biscuits and gravy. Free Run registration 10 - 11 am. Kickstands up at 11 am. Bring a full tank of gas! Ride about a hundred miles, traffic free, on the Loop to Flagler Beach, then south along the ocean and back on the Loop to White Eagle in Korona. About an hour pause then saddle up for more traffic free back roads to Trader Jack's Roadside in DeLand. Then back to the Ormond Strip on traffic free insider's roads for awards, raffles and giveaways. $50 Best hand, $25 2nd, $25 worst.

March 5, 2009
Ormond Beach. Willie and Company's Ol' Skool Chopper Show at Tropical Tattoo, Inc., 825 S. Yonge Street (US Hwy 1). A Bike Week tradition. Hot bikes, hot chicks and much more. And we'll provide the trophy girls again this year! Here's a link to our story from Biketoberfest 2008: http://dixiebiker.blogspot.com/2008/10/biketoberfest-2008-old-school-chopper.html


Ormond Beach. Dixie Biker Illustrated's Old School Bike Week Party at the Deadwood Saloon, 1081 N US Hwy 1. 6 PM til ?! Food and drink specials, Live Music, Wet T contests with cash prizes, wet t contests (Two classes: stock and modified), best chaps contests (men's and ladies), bonfire, giveaways, games and more. At 7 PM Dixie Biker's Chaplain, Rev. Al Paquette will perform a wedding vow renewal ceremony for anyone and everyone. This is free. No pre registration required. Renew the vows and rekindle the love!

March 8, 2009
DeLand. Dixie Biker Illustrated's C ya Next Year Party at Trader Jack's Roadside, 4425 N Hwy 17. End Bike Week with our traditional closing party! Free bikes only parking, Free BBQ 4 pm til it's gone, no rip off prices, a great ride in the country, live music, vendors, bike games, contests, etc.

More Government is Good!

From Willie in the Wind ...

Does anybody out there remember the reason given for the establishment of the DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY during the Carter Administration? Anybody? Anything? No?
Didn't think so.
Bottom line ... we've spent several hundred billion dollars in support of an agency the reason for which not one person who reads this can remember. Ready? The reason it was formed, and necessary was very simple and, at the time, everybody thought it very appropriate:
The Department of Energy was instituted August 4, 1977 to lessen our dependence on FOREIGN oil. Hey - pretty good idea, don't you think?
And now it's 2009, 32 years later, and the budget for this NECESSARY Department is $24.2 billion dollars a year. They have 16,000 federal employees and approx-imately 100,000 contract employees. And look at the job these bureaucrats have done. We're even more dependent on foreign oil now than we were more than thirty years ago. Now that's government efficiency.
Okay, you can now slap your forehead and say, "What was everyone thinking?"
Ah yes, good ol'government bureaucracy. And now we are going to turn the Banking system over to them? And the auto industry? And ...
God help us!

Stimulus for Government ...

... not for the people. It looks like we're screwed again.

Friends ...

Okay - we've hadda ton of political crap and it's gittin' worse. I got this reminder in from one of our readers, and a friend, about what's really important in life.

From Cheezstyx --

This explains why I forward jokes.

A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.
He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.



After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. He called out, 'Excuse me, sir, where are we?'
'This is Heaven, sir,' the man answered.
'Wow! Would you happen to have some water?' the man asked.
'Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up.'The man gestured, and the gate began to open.
'Can my friend,' gesturing toward his dog, 'come in, too?' the traveler asked.
'I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets.'

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog. After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.
'Excuse me!' he called to the man. 'Do you have any water?'
'Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in.'
'How about my friend here?' the traveler gestured to the dog.

'There should be a bowl by the pump.'
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it.

The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree. 'What do you call this place?' the traveler asked.

'This is Heaven,' he answered.
'Well, that's confusing,' the traveler said. 'The man down the road said that was Heaven, too.'
'Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell.'
'Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?'

'No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind.'
Soooo...

Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without writing a word.
Maybe this will explain.

When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do? You forward jokes. When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep contact, you forward jokes. When you have something to say, but don't know what, and don't know how, you forward jokes.

Also to let you know that you are still remembered, you are still important, you are still loved, you are still cared for, guess what you get? A forwarded joke.

So, next time you get a joke, don't think that you've been sent just another forwarded joke, but that you've been thought of today and your friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile.

You are all welcome at my water bowl anytime!