Kimmy Cruz

Daytona Hangover

Well, I’m almost past my Daytona hangover. It’s not a hangover in the literal sense, as I’ve been surprisingly well behaved over the past couple of weeks. It’s more a need to catch up on sleep, because the Daytona run is just that, a marathon run. Instead of a 10K, this one is a 2000K, with lots of interesting stops and people along the way.

Mt. Dora is where my annual Florida trip usually starts, and this year was no different. Monday and Tuesday I photographed a variety of old English motorcycles. The Piece de resistance was the group shot of three 1950 Thunderbirds. The T-bird was notable not only for its great looks, but because it was the first standard Triumph to come with the 650cc engine.

Three of Triumphs finest from 1950, all restored by master craftsman Bill Hoard.

Tuesday night was even more fun, though a little less productive. Over the years I’ve become friends with a retired federal agent (you know who you are). He and I and his buddy Bill spent the evening sitting on the dock of the bay, shooting at beer cans with an old and very genuine Daisy BB gun. Along the way we added considerably to the number of possible targets lying on the sand. All of which just goes to show that you’re never too old to act like a 12 year old kid.

Sitting on the dock of a bay, a hell of a nice spot to spend a few leisurely hours shooting BBs at beer cans with a couple of the local rednecks.

Thursday morning found me in Daytona having coffee with the infamous Bean’re, followed by a stop at Froggy’s to chat with the equally famous (and much better looking) Kimmy Cruz. Next, it was up to Ormond Beach for the Willie’s Tropical Tattoo party and bike show. The show was great as always, I especially enjoy the fact that pretty much anything goes at Willie’s. From phat-tire pro street bikes to Sporty bobbers and even a neat old Kawasaki three cylinder two-stroke!

Kimmy Cruz, the world’s best-known bartender, making the regulars feel truly welcome at Froggy’s.

Thursday night started at the Dog House, where I attended the great Fusion party, which is actually a fund raiser for Soldiers’ Angels – a non-profit volunteer-led group that provides aid and comfort to active servicemen and women of the U.S. military as well as veterans and their families. Hats off to Ken Conte, the man who put the party together and raised $16,000 for the Angels.

A whole bunch of industry notables helped auction off a raft of goodies, all in support of Soldiers’ Angels.

Thursday night’s party came to a somewhat early end for me, as Friday morning found me south of Daytona shooting a Norton race bike. By the time the morning mist burned off I was back in the mighty Ford ranger, headed for Atlanta and a rendezvous with Brad, owner of a very nice stable of desirable old scooters, including a whole pile of Triumphs and Nortons. Randy Baxter, of Baxter Cycle fame, joined us on Saturday and we photographed seven bikes before the setting sun sent me on my way again – all the way home to Minnesota.

I spent an hour at Willie’s, documenting the fact that Bean’re does indeed know everyone in the world – at least everyone in the motorcycle world – including Dave Perewitz.

How do you say Factory Race Bike? One that still goes 100 mph while it’s standing still.

What can I say about Sturgis that hasn’t been said before. Not much. So what I can do is describe my week as it’s sure to be different than most.

Thursday Noon: Point the truck and trailer south, then west.

Thursday evening: Drink beer in the parking lot of Brian Klock’s shop in Mitchell, SD, as mentioned in last week’s blog.

Friday AM: Wake up in the Mitchell Best Western (great motel), shower, shave, have breakfast at Mac and Don’s (they have wi-fi), and then hit the road for Sturgis.

Friday early afternoon: Stop at the Firehouse Saloon in Sturgis on Lazelle, and drop off more Sturgis 70th books to Kimmy Cruz, who sells them over the bar.

It was a somewhat quiet week in downtown Sturgis this year – exceptions include the Broken Spoke Saloon, where Jay and Jay kept everyone entertained while Michael Lichter recorded it all for posterity.

Friday evening: Enjoy a great dinner at Roma’s in Spearfish with a bunch of Shadleys and Shadley friends.

Saturday: Start the day at the coffee shop in Spearfish (Common Grounds, more wi-fi) then head to Sturgis for reconnaissance and to collect my press passes for The Chip and Broken Spoke.

Kimmy Cruz serving beers at the Firehouse, and selling those hard-to find-Sturgis 70th books.

Saturday night: Another fine dinner at Roma’s. Yes, I’m in a rut, but when the food is this good who cares.

Sunday morning: Back to Common Grounds. Then off to Sturgis to find the famous and infamous Bean’re at The Chip. Turns out he’s hangin at the Chip’s waterin’ hole: Bikini Beach, which unfortunately is pretty quiet when I get there. I promise myself a return trip to the Beach but never do make it back.

Sunday night: Attend the American Bagger party on the west side of Spearfish. Lots of lies to tell and people to meet. Including Travis who lives near Vegas and tells me about some great old Nevada junkyards that will make great photo backdrops for my next trip to Vegas to shoot old Triumphs during the January auction. I also enjoy some very interesting conversations with “Little Ronnie” crew chief for David and Jody Perewitz’ Bonneville team. I was ready to stay and listen to Ronnie all night - until I saw the light show start in the western sky.

Registration at the Chip is slow, but when you consider the thousands of people there, it’s surprising it doesn’t take even longer.

Monday: Bean’re told me to meet him in Deadwood, at the Silverado Hotel, at 8 Am, as part of the Legends Ride. I show up at 8:15 and Deadwood is dead….. turns out the ride doesn’t really even get organized until 11. Oh well, plenty of time to drink coffee, take a few photos, and shop. I do meet Bean’re eventually, and chat with cronies like Arlen Ness and Donnie Smith.

Bean’re and pals waiting for the Legends ride to leave Deadwood.

Monday afternoon: As the Legends Ride leaves Deadwood headed for Lead, I turn the other way and take Boulder Canyon Highway to Sturgis and eventually the Broken Spoke campground, sometimes called “County Line.” A media friend asked me to take some “pool shots.” So I did just that. But the weather was cool and the crowd small, good pool shots would have to wait. I did get to say hello to GTP, George The Painter, of Iron Horse Magazine fame.

Tuesday AM: I’m up early, off to the Chip again to meet Chris Callen editor and owner of Cycle Source Magazine. We spend an hour talking about the new book: Custom Bike building Basics, by (yes) Chris Callen and Cycle Source. Chris has a ride starting later that day, so I’m out of there by eleven AM, headed for Spearfish.

Controlled chaos in front of the Franklin Hotel.

By 1:00 PM a small group of us are headed to Belle Fourche and then to the Stonehouse Saloon and eventually Devil’s Tower. Just before we arrive at the Tower, it starts to rain, so we take refuge the little log-house bar on the corner. Eventually the rain passes, we ride up to the back side of the Tower, take the mandatory annual pics and then head for Sundance and The Dime. By eight PM, after a high-speed chase down the freeway, we're all safely ensconced in the Steak house in Spearfish. Tuesday afternoon is definitely the most fun day of my Sturgis week.

Wednesday: I spend most of the early afternoon watching guys on everything from Baggers to eight-second real-race bikes, drag race on a closed off highway. This is almost as much fun as Tuesday afternoon except that they’re racing and I’m taking photos.

Back side of the Tower, with rain clouds receding in the distance.

Next stop, County Line Campground and the world’s biggest biker pool. As I walk up to the pool area they are just starting the “belly flop contest.” I can only say it’s good to see grown men doing their best to act like fourteen year old boys. Though I never have seen a fourteen year old with a beer-belly like the ones I saw descending into the pool. The resulting waves were titanic in size and scope. In fact, the first one forced me to move back lest I drown the expensive digital camera.

Some serious iron running in the street drags. Close lane Is Crazy John on his “FXR” complete with S&S 145, slick for a rear tire, and a big bottle of ha-ha gas.

Thursday morning, 5:30 AM: I tip toe out of Tom and Mary Jo’s house in Spearfish, trying not to wake anyone up. As I go out the door all I can hear is Tommy snoring. Twelve hours later (I took a break in Mankato, Minnesota) I pull into the drive. As always I have a couple of thousand images to sort through – and a lot of sleep to catch up on.

Who has more fun than Bikers?