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There is a shared passion here, but it’s not the one that Daytona’s image would suggest. Hidden amongst the people who have come to celebrate their ownership of a particular brand are those who have come for the ride, for the experience. People who have worked long and hard preparing motorcycles for the first outing of the year. Trawling through the cloned bikes that line the road, the occasional tank badge will stand out. These are the individuals in the mass, the exceptions worthy of comment in a sea of similarity. There are British bikes that have been cherished, others that have been used. A couple of classic Honda twins from the sixties are parked up, one for sale, the other still being restored. Off Beach Boulevard are the Harleys that the time forgot (or that the factory wished time would forget): Italian four stroke and two stroke singles showing the ravages of Florida’s maritime air, and ninety cc mini-bikes being wheelied in a flagrant display of lawlessness and recklessness. A lone side-valve Indian is parked slightly apart from its modern cousins, perhaps symbolising the gap between enthusiasm and mere ownership. More... |
© 1998 Martin Gelder