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In down-town Daytona Beach there is the inevitable traffic jam as too many vehicles converge on the narrow strip of land off the Florida coast. Although there are now many more two-wheelers to be seen, a combination of the bizarre US ‘no lane filtering’ law and the general population’s law abiding nature sees the bikes sitting stationary in traffic alongside hire-cars and pickups. Walking down Main St, with every imaginable variety of ‘custom’ motorcycle parked up and funneling pedestrians onto sidewalks lined with bars, tattoo parlours and tee shirt emporia, impressions start to congeal into suspicions. As the open piped and highly polished Harleys cruise slowly across the intersection of Main and Noble, those suspicions are confirmed when a glance to either side reveals that within ten yards of ‘biker street USA’, middle-american suburban life is carrying on regardless. This isn’t Europe, and Daytona isn’t the Isle of Man or the Bol D’Or. Main Street is the focus for an event of a completely different nature to anything that might be experienced on this side of the Atlantic. Passing through the portal to any big European event (race meeting or rally, custom show or classic concours) there is a sense of abandoning ‘normal’ society, and entering a world where everyone present shares a unifying common interest. It might have been the journey travelled, or the means of travelling, or maybe just the event itself, but it’s present and sometimes so strong you can almost touch it. A shared passion. More... |
© 1998 Martin Gelder