Our campground was a nice one, rolling hills, grass and a few trees, plus power because it was HOT! No, we did not stay at The Buffalo Chip. We've heard the stories.
The few days we were there seemed kind of tame. Nothing like the shows we had seen on TV. I'm sure a bunch of dentists, doctors and retired managers don't act up enough to make for exciting television. Most folks were our age, and we're too old for that crap.
But we aren't too old to ogle the motorcycles and dream of riding them. My little Honda Shadow can't compete. Craig wants a Boss Hoss trike in Candy Apple Red, with like a million horsepower. I like the trike part, but more along the lines of a Can-Am Spyder. Or maybe the Victory Cross Country. We watched the demo and the rider could steer with the mirrors, no throttle and the bike just glided around the arena. That was truly impressive.
But no new bikes for us until we start riding the one we have. That's the other problem with being our age, too much sense. Oh, well, we did take some shots of some pretty cool bikes. Apparently there is a movement for reeaaallly big front tires. I guess that's okay as long as they have cool paint jobs. And they all do, of course.
And there were a lot of burnouts. We saw trucks full of tires everywhere we turned. People need speed and the smell of rubber, and the smoke. I hate to say it, but even I thought it was kind of cool. Cough, Cough.
This was one of my favorites, and a crowd favorite as well. The owner even made the local news. And of course, it's signed by Willie Nelson.
And then these guys showed up at our campground. I think they fit right in at a motorcycle rally.
"We got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark...and we're wearing sunglasses."
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