| DAYTONA BIKETOBERFEST 2010: THE 'Long Way Around' WITH JD's MOTORCYCLE TOURS. |
|
OUTIS TOO: Dorothy the oyster shucker - black alligator eyes watch us ride by from slime green roadside canals. This is Louisiana swamp and forest country. Green and lush, with aged cypress oaks dripping with Spanish moss, encrusted with chittas and red, itchy bugs. It gives you an eerie southern feel and you can imagine grey clad confederate soldiers marching through a low clinging mist in a landscape that today, is peppered with the occasional shack that is literally rotting into the ground. It was 2008 when we happened upon Outis Too, an Oyster Bar nestled into the forest. A few bikes parked haphazardly amongst the trees, a stage with good ol' biker boys in bibbed jeans chewing the fat. Then inside we meet Dorothy in her blues and American flag bandana. She owns this fine establishment and shares her hospitality over steamed oysters and tasty, blackened groper with hushpuppies.[ spicy deep fried corn meal balls ] We politely declined the offer of a pottle of boiled peanuts. They are an acquired taste experience for new comers.
Hold on a moment! Our adventure actually started in Chicago, which was an outstanding experience for all of us. Magnificent in its buildings from the stylish uptown glass structures of the world of money and finance. Did you know it was here the Futures Market was first conceived and started. Elevated trains rumbled overhead, then disappeared amongst the skyscrapers that had amazing sculptures by artists like 'Piacasso' and his Steel Horse, The Eyeball and other futuristic metal forms. Downtown was littered with cafes and bars. We enjoyed a few quiets at Dillengers, which came complete with his letter to the Ford Motor Company stating that he only used their cars for a bank robbery because they were reliable and fast........that was if he could steal one first !
Oh No! Rain! We are in Orlando, Florida now and have taken delivery of our Harleys' just as Hurricane Dianne pasted over with big winds and driving rain. [ which was warm ] But after waiting for 3 hours, we hit the road and in the rain that evening, we passed a town called Christmas. There it was. A road sign neon Christmas tree, a little nativity crib, a few old wooden shacks and we were out of town - brilliant! The next day dawned clear, sunny and hot as we embraced the many expressways and bridge overpasses into the art deco south end of Miami. It reminded me of what America is really all about....concrete and cars. Thumping and bumping baby! Laying it down at 85mph in the fast lane on an 8 lane turnpike crammed with vehicles - ain't life grand !
Picture this: we are sitting on the beachfront bar cruise, margaritas in hand, skimpy talent smiling as they glide by: warm evening breezes and a colourful flowing shirt - life is good. After a brief flirtation with the bridges of the Florida Keys, some more blackened fish and a glass of wine, we are ready to continue. Mid morning saw a smiling bunch stepping out of a swamp air boat ride and Margi exclaiming that there were plenty of gators gazing back at them with unblinking black eyes. 'Don't rock the boat Di.' The Biloxi to Gulfport coastline sparkled with its super white crystal sands and amazingly, there were no signs of the recent oil spill disaster, although some of the coastal mansions remained wrecked and flattened from Hurricane Katrina's winds. Then our eyes popped as we rode into a Cruise Weekend. Hot rods and grossly oversized muscle cars were everywhere. Fabulous in the sun, owners bloated with pride to be part of the American Dream. Many vehicles were for sale and most reasonably priced ....oh well.
The night air is shattered by a thunderous, high revving nitro breathing V8. It is huge and the sole purpose of this monster bar stool is to lay rubber doing donuts in the car park. We are at Panama City Beach for Bike Weekend, a small gathering of about 60 thousand bikes and bikers that have far too much money to waste. Outlandish, colourful paint jobs, neon lights over engines, very stretched swing arms with nos bottles and the marvellous drone of motors in the night air, while Molly Hatchett played to a very distracted audience.
Approaching New Orleans [ N'awlins as locals call it ] we are now riding on a dual lane bridge with a separate dual lane bridge for traffic coming towards us. And hell, there's another dual lane bridge about half a mile away, all going across a sparkling sea to a shoreline so far away that we couldn't even see it. The style and shape of those bridges will blow you away and the length of some. Hell mother! The longest was 24 miles across and it dived into a long tunnel at the other end. Even sitting on 80mph, it takes more than a few moments to cross.
I am not seeing well this morning. Could it be riding into the sun yesterday, the late night on Bourbon Street, or the Absinthe....? Never mind, it's all good as we explore The French Quarter with its fabulous aged buildings and balconies covered in greenery. Jazz hangs in the air from street performers and bars and all the while funky types slide by as donkey drawn carriages full of tourists listen intently to the history of N'awlins as recalled to them by a black American with a southern drawl through a mouthful of pearly whites and a pink straw hat. Love this town! Ah, hah! That was lunch at Crossroads, the site of one of The Civil Wars actual battlefields. Jo O'Neill with his new grey Confederate cap and Paul Spearing in his new Yankee blue cap emerge from the historic log cabin store so we could lunch. We had PO Boys toasted and 'to die for' pizza on the way to Memphis before heading out on the highway to play again. Really, it is The Purple Heart Highway and all the traffic on this dual lane interstate is sitting on an exhilarating 80mph. [ legally posted at 70, but 80's ok ] Even the 'oversized' and labelled big rigs were in amongst it, complete with pilot vehicles carrying flags and flashing lights. And occasionally, one of those monsters passed us which meant they had to be doing 100mph or so. The cotton fields we have been riding through look marvellous because it is harvest time, but are now giving way to grasslands and deciduous forests that are turning to their autumn colours.
The Plantation Allstars in Beale Street, Memphis, are really world class and produce a wall of sound, swapping from jazz to blues. Then a sensuous little black American lass from the crowd blows our minds when she sings the blues. Gob smacked we are, especially when mid number, the lead guitarist went to the bathroom still playing, the guitar power cord under the door. Moments later, he re-appeared still playing and takes his seat - now that's talent.
'Just step around those parts.' says Lew Elliott. Lew owns Super Cycle which in its day, was the place where Elvis came to get his custom bikes and trikes. The shop appears to have stood still in time, with gorgeous windows of 1960's choppers, signs and just plain old stuff all covered in a generous layer of dust and cobwebs. Not to be outdone, the whole shop is like Burt Munroe's shed. Parts and piles of bike bits, paperwork just waiting for Lew to get around to it. But at 75 or so, he's in no real hurry nowadays - wonderful. This the Bible Belt and roadside billboards have messages such as: 'Prepare to meet thy God.' If God intended money to grow on trees, there wouldn't be any shade. The 10 commandments are not a multiple choice index and people have names like: Milt, Polk and JEB. Wow!
A dry county you say? 'Yes Sir,' says a local from the cab of his old green, faded pickup. 'But ifs you go 25 mile down thata ways into the next county, they sells it. We only gots shine.' Fair enough. But never mind, our bed for the next couple of days is Blue Waters Mountain Lodge and that has a licence. And moments after our arrival we are diving off their jetty into the warm waters of a beautiful mountain lake which is surrounded by Tennessee autumn forest. No other houses in sight, just us. And on our return, a waiting Budweiser - perfect!
The next morning finds us at the 'Tail of The Dragon' - Deals Gap. Known to the biking world for its 318 corners in 11 miles. 11 miles of exciting, banked and cambered corners threading their way through the mountain scenery. A great ride which lands us in Cherokee Nations Homeland with its stunning rivers, the occasional fly fisherman and sunlight casting shafts of light down on sparkling waters. Damn, it was a memorable ride.
Well surprised I was! Charleston sure enough was the richest capital city of pre Civil War days, but I didn't know where its wealth came from. Rice!! How amazing, but really obvious because the delta land was low and water was everywhere. Although it took an army of slaves to move more dirt than the total tonnage of rocks to build the Pyramids when they constructed the rice fields, dams and canals of Charleston and Savannah. Ya'all Welcome Ya' all! The Bohemian Hotel in Savannah was a lit up with its oyster shell lamps, shrimp linguine and reasonably priced menu - everyone loved it ! The rooftop bar at dusk, lit up bridge and temperature were a big hit.
A quick stop for lunch while we check out St. Augustine Beach, where the Spanish first landed. Then the British forced them out, only to have the Spanish take it back. And now its American. That history has left behind some authentic old buildings, great Spanish influence and a real treasure to behold. But its off to Daytona Beach for us.
My god, they're all here. Good ol' boys who make a Harley look small. Lotsa babes riding rowdy, stretched out choppers with outstanding paint in colours - really wild colours. A trike in flames and the shape of a 56 chevy - rats and bobbers. Hell, stop me, but the convoy of bikes totals thousands with them lining the roadside and bars outside the Broken Spoke, Iron Horse and White Eagle Saloons and Froggies - time to party. Buds up crew.
But Daytona Beach Biketoberfest is much more than the 160 thousand bikes that turn up. It is also about brilliant, uncrowded beaches with 'walk right in' warm water. And the beachside fresh water pools and spas, all with pelicans surfing the breeze of the coastal hotels. Well, that was our month long ride. We enjoyed the hell out of it and maybe next time you will join us? We hope so. Cheers, Dennis and Jo. JD's motorsickle tours.com
|
             |
P
