Music To My Gears

© Photo courtesy of Jay Allen.

It’s THAT time of year again when the freeze of winter starts to give way and the first signs of spring start to appear. The flowers start to bloom and the birds begin their long flight North for the summer. Love is in the air and about 300,000 roaring motorcycles ride into Daytona Beach to open the rites of spring at the annual Daytona Bike Week.

Every year the town swells with bikers of all ages and backgrounds happy to be breaking out of winter’s confinement and be back on the asphalt again.

Every year it’s a treat to get to see some of the new stuff the builders have been working on. The newest creations from the baddest builders go on display for the first time, and it’s a great time for friends to reconnect and tell war stories.

One of my favorite things about Bike Week is the music. No not the multitude of bands rockin their asses off. But the sound of all those bikes. The way it can shake you from the inside out as the deep bass rumble starts to resonate in your bones before you even start to hear it. Very visceral. Like on Main Street where there are thousands of bikes lining the street. It’s so loud it’s like being at a concert. Then there’s the sound of bikes racing…and doing burnouts. And the sound late at night of a couple bikes fading off in the distance. But I have to say my favorite motor music is the sounds at the loud pipes contest at the Broken Spoke Saloon. Jay gets some guys and their bikes on stage and one by one he has them idle their engines as he puts a microphone to the pipe. If the bike’s tuned well it rumbles through the pa system, like some primal drummer beating a rhythm to the gods. When it’s right you can feel the crowd light up like somebody flipped a switch.

It shakes you to the core.

So once again it’s time for Daytona Bike Week. Warm weather, girls in chaps and the sound of pure unadulterated fun.

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