This morning I was aroused from my slumber by the sound of hogs… of the Harley Davidson variety.
Today is Friday the 13th and around these parts that can mean only one thing… No it’s not a foreboding of trouble to come, a call to stay away from work or remain indoors out of fear of something bad happening. No, around here it’s a call to Port Dover, especially, particularly if you have a motorcycle.
Really, Friday the 13th is created for and by bikers, the rest of the folks attending are just crashing their party. And let me tell you, this is no small party. There are a precious few Fridays the 13th in any given year and this event is held rain or shine, spring, summer, fall or winter. This year we have only one such Friday and it is today, what is starting out as a beautiful sunshiny day. Granted, there is some rain predicted for later but that will do nothing to quell the spirits or dampen the enthusiasm I am sure. From what I can tell, bikers are a lot tougher than that.
I have known three bikers in my life (that I am aware of anyway). Right now I work with one, Cam, a wonderful guy who I am happy to call a friend. He has a slick Honda motorcycle that reflects his personality perfectly. It’s a shiny bright blue machine that looks like it goes way faster than should ever be allowed. It’s sharp and so is its owner so they are perfectly matched I think. As far as I know Cam and his bike are probably on the road to Port Dover as I am typing this.
Then there is Mike… Mike on a Bike as we affectionately called him. Mike used to live next door where I used to live (follow me?) and he was new to motorcycle ownership. Words can’t describe the pride in his face the day he brought home his new hog. He was thrilled. It wasn’t a big bike but it was his and it looked good. He took me out for a ride on the back once, around town and out in the country. I decided then and there that I am not a Bike Bitch unless it’s one of those big comfy ones with really padded seats. I couldn’t walk properly for hours after my butt hurt so bad from the bumps on the road. Besides, I always prefer to be in the driver’s seat anyway.
And then there was Grizzly, Griz for those who know him well and I would never presume myself to be one of them. Grizzly is actually Mike on a Bike’s father-in-law and the most remarkable character you could imagine when sitting atop his bike. He has a three-wheeler (he would kill me I’m sure if he ever read this because I’m sure there has to be a cooler way of putting this but that’s what it is… it’s a three-wheeler!!) and he sits low to the ground with his arms up in the air grasping the handlebars. Grizzly wears only black and his ZZ Top beard hangs down and blows back in the wind has he roars along the open road. I have said barely 10 words to Grizzly in my life and all with my eyes lowered in deferential respect. Grizzly scares me just a little bit but has given no reason to draw this emotion out of me other than his imposing façade.
So as our little neighbour town swells from its normal 6,000 population to the anticipated 150,000 today (I told you it was big), I’m sure there will be lots of Cam’s and Mike’s and Grizzly’s (well, there’s only one Grizzly) and I hope they have a fantastic day and an Arbor Dog or two.
Me, I’m more of a Vespa kinda gal.
Today is Friday the 13th and around these parts that can mean only one thing… No it’s not a foreboding of trouble to come, a call to stay away from work or remain indoors out of fear of something bad happening. No, around here it’s a call to Port Dover, especially, particularly if you have a motorcycle.
Really, Friday the 13th is created for and by bikers, the rest of the folks attending are just crashing their party. And let me tell you, this is no small party. There are a precious few Fridays the 13th in any given year and this event is held rain or shine, spring, summer, fall or winter. This year we have only one such Friday and it is today, what is starting out as a beautiful sunshiny day. Granted, there is some rain predicted for later but that will do nothing to quell the spirits or dampen the enthusiasm I am sure. From what I can tell, bikers are a lot tougher than that.
I have known three bikers in my life (that I am aware of anyway). Right now I work with one, Cam, a wonderful guy who I am happy to call a friend. He has a slick Honda motorcycle that reflects his personality perfectly. It’s a shiny bright blue machine that looks like it goes way faster than should ever be allowed. It’s sharp and so is its owner so they are perfectly matched I think. As far as I know Cam and his bike are probably on the road to Port Dover as I am typing this.
Then there is Mike… Mike on a Bike as we affectionately called him. Mike used to live next door where I used to live (follow me?) and he was new to motorcycle ownership. Words can’t describe the pride in his face the day he brought home his new hog. He was thrilled. It wasn’t a big bike but it was his and it looked good. He took me out for a ride on the back once, around town and out in the country. I decided then and there that I am not a Bike Bitch unless it’s one of those big comfy ones with really padded seats. I couldn’t walk properly for hours after my butt hurt so bad from the bumps on the road. Besides, I always prefer to be in the driver’s seat anyway.
And then there was Grizzly, Griz for those who know him well and I would never presume myself to be one of them. Grizzly is actually Mike on a Bike’s father-in-law and the most remarkable character you could imagine when sitting atop his bike. He has a three-wheeler (he would kill me I’m sure if he ever read this because I’m sure there has to be a cooler way of putting this but that’s what it is… it’s a three-wheeler!!) and he sits low to the ground with his arms up in the air grasping the handlebars. Grizzly wears only black and his ZZ Top beard hangs down and blows back in the wind has he roars along the open road. I have said barely 10 words to Grizzly in my life and all with my eyes lowered in deferential respect. Grizzly scares me just a little bit but has given no reason to draw this emotion out of me other than his imposing façade.
So as our little neighbour town swells from its normal 6,000 population to the anticipated 150,000 today (I told you it was big), I’m sure there will be lots of Cam’s and Mike’s and Grizzly’s (well, there’s only one Grizzly) and I hope they have a fantastic day and an Arbor Dog or two.
Me, I’m more of a Vespa kinda gal.
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