Left, At the track. Above, Gasque (center) with some new friends met in Daytona. Below, Watching a Supercross race with friends at the famous Daytona International Speedway.
Following a safe arrival to my friends’
home, a fun happy hour and a delicious meal, it was off for some rest for the big weekend ahead. The next morning, after a casual start with good coffee and even bet- ter conversation, we departed from the har- bor for our sightseeing cruise, with a plan of starting the day with a ride on the Ormond Scenic Loop and Trail (Old Dixie High- way). It was spectacular! We rode down a gorgeous two-lane road covered in an ancient canopy of live oak trees and native Florida palms and greenery with not much traffic at all. We stopped midway through to view the Dummett Sugar Mill Ruins, a sugar and rum distillery which dates back to the early 1800s. Following that stop, we rode through more canopied roads and peaceful saltwater marshes full of statu- esque birds fishing for their meals. So far, this Bike Week wasn’t feeling too rogue or scraggly at all. As we made our way south that after-
noon towards a much-needed lunch stop and closer to the mighty mothership of Bike Week, a low hum could be heard in the dis- tance, which grew to a loud rumble as we drew near. We made it…we were finally entering the sea of loud pipes. Of course, large schools of Harleys were bountiful, but there were many other fish in that sea as well: Indian, Victory, Buell, Honda,
Kawasaki, Yamaha, Triumph, and the list went on. I squealed with delight when I saw a rare sight, a fellow BMW rider or two. Much like sea urchins, we were just “there,” clinging to the walls while the dizzying masses swam by. Our lunch destination was the Brickyard Lounge and
Grill. Clearly it was a locals’ biker bar, but I must say they serve THE best cheeseburger I have ever come across, by far. (It was so good I stopped in the next day for another!) With my body full of hearty protein, I was ready to experience the true biker scene, Main Street, Daytona. It was an intentional plan to visit Bike Week during the first weekend of this 10-day event, as the crowds were fairly light and traf- fic wasn’t too terribly clogged. Otherwise, a trip down Main Street would have certainly meant an hour or more of fender to fender traffic and a definite overheat of my ’94 R1100 RS. I quickly learned that a ride down Main Street automatically enters you into the “parade,” like it or not. Main Street, Daytona,
is the true center of the sea of loud pipes. It’s lined with smoky, mis- chievous biker bars; big chrome-covered bikes parked curiously close to each other; and tight
May 2016 BMW OWNERS NEWS 65
crowds wearing denim, black accoutre- ments, leather, big boots, tattoos, piercings, bandannas and really badass expressions on their faces. Above all, I found myself won- dering why the angry faces. I can certainly handle personal choices of fashion, but I truly pondered the rough demeanors on seemingly very nice people. After taking a couple of parade loops
myself and then parking the bike, I stood in the crowd to watch the other two-wheeled machines making their way down the line. The sights were incredible…there were so many motorcycles that were astonishing, impeccable rides. Then there were the sights that really got your attention: incred- ible, giant Boss Hogs, stretched out “Big Wheels” (as I called them); a large pack of
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