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Daytona Bike Week - Real Legend or Urban Legend? Bob Pickett finds out

Daytona, Florida. Home of possibly the most famous biking event in the world. Stories abound of coleslaw wrestling, scantily clad women, raucous behaviour and if anyone is still up to it, a rather well known race at the end.

But what is it really like? Does being there actually add up to all the hype?

Thousands of Harleys line up on the main street The first Daytona bike week was held in 1937, and has been going strong ever since. From the media hype, you would expect thousands of Harleys being ridden by black leather clad ‘Angels’, pulling wheelies, molesting women, having drunken rumbles and getting covered in coleslaw from one of many wrestling bouts. With all this going on, there should be one hell of a buzz in the air, shouldn’t there?

The truth? Well yes there were thousands of Harleys, in a range of shapes and colours, being ridden up and down Main Street endlessly by bikers in black leather, watched by a similar mass of leather clad pedestrians. All very friendly, but where was the ‘buzz’? Unlike any other biking event I have been to in the past, there was no ‘edge’ at all. Somehow it felt like being a spectator at a Marlon Brando look-alike contest, with the main reason for being there, well, just being there really.

There must be lots of things going on in the side streets, surely? Not one! If you turned off Main Street into a side turning, you could have been in any ordinary small American town on a particularly quiet day.

Art? Rebellion? Or just sad? Somewhat disappointed with Main Street (apart from getting some cool pictures), we headed off to ‘Sin City’, home of the ‘trash a Jap bike’. Almost literally ‘trash A Jap bike’. Three or four burned out bikes covered in spray paint sat there looking very dejected and ignored.

Not to be defeated, we stayed in Sin City for the ‘fashion show’. Well, I can confirm that they had all the colours, black AND brown. The leathers themselves? All tassles and showy bits, but where were the Kevlar inserts? The back supports? Double stitching and knee sliders? Forget it. This was clothing for the poseur, not the serious rider. The other striking thing was the advertising. At a British or European meeting, there would be adverts from Dainese, Frank Thomas et al. Sin City’s advertising? US Foodservice and Aristocrat Limousine Service!

Not so much ‘No Fear’ as ‘No Risk’.

We did not find many scantily clad women either. Possibly the effects of El Nino had put the damper on semi-nudity. Oh well, par for the course.

In an attempt to find something more exciting, we headed downtown. At last things picked up. We found a decent little rock band playing and some interesting and unusual bikes to see.

Possibly in American terms this is life ‘on the edge’. For a controlled society, this must have seemed really wild. It struck us as pretty damn tame. It was rather nice of the Daytona townsfolk to give priority-parking rights to bikes though.

Time to head out of town and come back tomorrow for the main event, the Daytona 200.

Daytona 'International' Speedway - the Daytona 200 seems largely forgotten Why is it an ‘International’speedway? After all, they only hold US races there? Mind you, a country which has ‘World Series’ in sports which only their teams are allowed to take part can have an ‘international’ speedway where only US races take place I suppose.

Credit where credit is due though. The track and facilities at Daytona are superb. For the princely sum of $10.00 (about £6.00), you get a programme which is more like a small novel (British tracks please note – in terms of presentation we are still a long way behind). The view is amazing. From half-way up the Winston Tower we could see the entire track (you can’t say the same for Brands).

That said, you sit a long way away from the track, rather alienating the spectator. Not that this mattered to the Yanks. A quieter audience you could not expect to find. They did get excited during the ‘Pro-Thunder’ race, but this was only in response to the Brits in the audience getting excited about a Triumph taking the lead.

With the first race over and done with (and a notable victory by a British bike!), it was time for the main event, the ‘Daytona 200 by Arai’. Well, it was time for the main event after the prayer (yes, PRAYER) and the unaccompanied singing of the national anthem.

This is what we were all there for, wasn’t it? Not according to the response from the ‘locals’. This was the signal to wander about buying burgers, hot dogs and sodas! Hello out there, there was a race going on!

Personally speaking, I like to see who wins a race. Not the Yanks. About seven laps before the end of an overwhelming victory by Scott Russell (an American in case anyone has forgotten), half the crowd started leaving to beat the traffic!

All in all, to the Americans, it seems that the whole event is not about being there for the event, but just ‘being there’. Go along, buy the t-shirt and go home again.

The highlight of my trip - this lovely Indian - obviously cherished AND ridden - unlike a lot of the other bikes on show Which was the final insult. If anyone has ever purchased a grey import from the USA, they have probably wondered why the mileage is so low. I’ll tell you why. They don’t ride the bloody bikes! Bikes are ferried about on trailers, then taken off to ride the last few miles/yards to where they are going.

So much for the Harley being the modern equivalent of the horse. So much for Daytona bike week as well.

From now on I will be sticking to British and European events (unless someone is prepared to stump up the funds for the WSB at Laguna Seca of course!).

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