| Author | Message | ||
     Crusty |
Back in 1972, my friend Bill and I went to a motorcycle show in Hartford, CT. I don’t remember a whole lot about the show; I do recall seeing a Clymer Repair Manual for Pre-unit Triumphs, and regretting that I didn’t buy it. I also remember that we drove down in Amos. Amos was a 1950 Ford pickup that Bill had built when he worked in the truck junkyard. Bill never got it running quite right, and the fastest it would run was 35 MPH. Over the years since, I’ve attended a lot of shows and a couple stand out in my mind. There was the show at the Worcester Centrum where I saw and sat on an XR-1000. I wanted one in the worst way, but I hate to take out loans and there was no way I could honestly afford one. But I still remember the show. Then there was the show at some dinky hall on Route 1 in Saugus, MA. All the bikes that were there were from a chain of dealerships in the Boston area. It was a rip off. I paid ten bucks to look at the same bikes I could look at for free just by walking into any of the chain’s locations. There use to be a fairly large bike show at the Bayside Expo Center in Boston and I would go and look at bikes and spend a couple of hours. It was the best I’d seen and in the New England winter, these shows were a chance to look and dream about summer and riding. One year, I decided to be adventurous, and go to the big show in New York at the Javits Center. I was overwhelmed. This was what a motorcycle show should be. They had bikes from all the manufacturers. They had Lots of bikes. Huge displays that were impressively arranged. I could check out bikes that I’d never seen before in real life; bikes that I’d only read about in magazines. They had helmet manufacturers displaying all their products. There were all sorts of accessories for bikes and gear for riders. Leather jackets, textile jackets, tires, batteries, Really Loud horns and Really Loud exhausts; there were impressive Trials riders doing insanely difficult things in a cordoned off area. I saw remarkable custom bikes of all flavors. If it had anything to do with motorcycles, it was there. I was hooked. I try to get to the show every year. I’ve seen so many neat things there. One year, the BUB's Streamliner that Chris Carr rode to a Land Speed Record was there; Chris Carr was there as well, and I got to talk with him about Flat Track racing. The Knucklehead that Joe Petralli rode to a Land Speed record that still stands at Daytona Beach was there. I had a good conversation with the owner and learned a few things I didn’t know before. I’ve seen meticulous restorations of some neat old bikes and some wild customizations of modern bikes. (The Hayabusa with bodywork that looked like a gorilla comes to mind) One year, I got to ride down to the show; the rest of the time, I’ve had to go down in a car. This year, I’ll be coming down in a car with three friends; two of which have never seen the show. We plan to drive down early Saturday morning and be there when the show opens at 9:00. I figure that 4 hours should be about the right amount of time before overload sets in, then we’ll head up to the Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem for lunch. After lunch, we’ll head home. I think it will be a bit of an adventure for us and I’m hoping that we’ll all have a great time. I’m pretty sure I will. | ||
| 86129squids |
Sounds like an epic day- trip, O Crusted Bard of Badweb! If you ever get a chance to head to Leeds, Alabama and spend a day at the Barber museum, you'll love it! I gotta get my ducks in a row to make it to Vintage Days next fall, 2015... those ducks gotta be quackin by June or July to lock down accommodations... | ||
| Strokizator |
Unfortunately, the motorcycle show here on the left coast has steadily deteriorated with fewer participants and lesser content each year. Funny story about Amos, though. Back in 1970 my buddy had just purchased a '49 Chevy truck with a faded green patina, the original stove-bolt 6 and 1st gear "granny gear" transmission. We decided to head to the beach, normally about 2 hours away. That thing was geared so low that it redlined (if you can call it that) at about 50 mph. 30 minutes into the trip we realized we were only 20 miles out of town and at that rate it'd be dark before we got there so we turned around and got into my car instead. I remember that if I went to the coast, I'd have to buy gas there and I'd only buy just enough to get me home because they were charging 33¢/gallon in Paso Robles. What a rip-off! |
