Many many moons ago, on June 4th, a star was born.
This little star twinkled all through her
toddler years and into her tweens and twenties. Today, she is recognized as one of the most beautiful and talented women in the world. Now, I normally don’t like to toot my own horn, but I’m proud to say that I share a birthday with Mrs. Brad Pitt.
The only horn I like to toot is my bike horn, but since I sold my bike before moving to Nicaragua, I haven’t had many opportunities to toot lately. That all changed when Dan bought me a big girl bike for my birthday. Two days ago I took a spin on my new wheels right to the heart of the world’s largest touring motorcycle rally, Americade.
Was I scared to ride among some of the most seasoned biker veterans?
Heck yeah! But my fear melted as my rear melted into that big saddle, and I took a hold of the handlebars. High on the Harley, I was reminded of my childhood spent riding Honda four-wheelers. They were fun, but I’m not a child anymore, and quads don’t really work in the ‘hood so I’ll save that kind of riding for when I’m home on the ranch.
But this week I’m at Americade, where over one hundred thousand people gather in scenic upstate New York for eight glorious days to mingle with other motorcyclists and show off their bikes. The bikes are incredible; however, I’m most intrigued by the riders. In the past two days, I’ve seen more heads in do-rags than most people see in a lifetime. I’ve marveled at tattoos that would take up an entire season of Inked, and I’ve even watched a huge biker dude walk right past Bob’s and into Ali Baba’s for some falafel.
This morning I read in the Post-Star that in the past ten years, the bikers’ palates have changed tremendously. I found this interesting, but not as interesting as some of the events that take place throughout the week that is Americade. From the Globe of Death (picture that stunt man you’ve seen riding a motorcycle in a metal hamster ball and then throw in another stunt man on a motorcycle) to the fashion show (don’t picture this) and finally, the golf tournament. Tonight I’m expecting to see hoards of riders scooping up polo shirts and khakis at Walmart.
Disclaimer: The bike Dan gave me for my birthday which I’ve been riding around Americade is the kind that requires thighs, not a throttle. (I did get to test drive a Harley, but it was stationary.)