Friday 13th Wrap Up

On any Friday 13th that has a temperature of over 10c and no rain, tens of thousands of motorcyclists and bikers will drive there from as far away as the United States, in fact I saw one plate from Florida. But mostly from the Toronto Area, as that is where the biggest nearby population centre is.

Several friends in Kitchener formed a group, using email for about four days, where each person made up their mind as to whether they could take the time, or if it was too cold. Finally by Thursday night, 7 people were confirmed, and we planned to meet at the Tim Horton's near Conestoga college, and there would be a sub-group formed at another Tim Horton's which would join us at noon. Although things were a bit late, with the number of cell phones on hand, we were able to steer everybody in the right direction until we all ended up together.

Now seven people is a bit of a large group, and normally I am hesitant about anything over five. But most of us have had practice driving together. And if this Friday 13th lived up to expectations, there would be so many bikes on the road that it wouldn't matter how big the group was, we would just be in an endless parade of bikes within 40 km of the town.

Once we hit the road, there was no need to stop until we reached Port Dover, where the usual conundrum is where to park. When the all-motorcycle traffic ground to a halt about a kilometer from the centre of town, I pulled over to find a parking space big enough for seven bikes. It was easy to find, but with a bit of discussion we decided to try our luck plunging further into the maelstrom of Harleys and other motorcycles, that is Friday 13th in Port Dover. My ultimate objective was the Apple Fritter place. We parked a bit closer then started walking. Soon the police closed off the main street, so everybody moved into the middle of the road to keep on walking. But a few bikes got through the roadblock, and we were dodging bikes while we walked down the centre line of the road.

Finally we reached the Apple Fritter place, and there were eight parking places empty right at the curb! For the first time in the three years it has been in business, I saw a line formed all the way to the door. It wasn't even this busy during the last record setting day, where there were three times the number of bikes in town. Maybe the word is getting out. Four of our group opted to go to the fish restaurant around the corner, and three waited in line for fritters (including me). We planned to meet up later.

But when we went to look for the fish restaurant, we found there were actually about five of them around the corner, since Port Dover is a fishing port. And unfortunately, of the four cell phones in our group, all four were with the fish people. So we decided to head back to the bikes, as the sun would be setting soon, and along with the setting of the sun would come the Canadian reality of November. That is, cold and dark.

We were distracted by many apparitions on the way back to the bikes. A Suzuki Burgman in the shape of a truck. A motorcycle gang wearing raccoon coats and horns riding Indian trikes with ape hangers. A couple getting married, Santa Claus, one Hell's Angel, the widest tire I have ever seen on the back of a bike, I'm surprised the bike could lean enough to touch the kickstand down, and another bike that fell over as we walked past (we didn't touch it). But no nudity. Or should I say, because Mary Ann was present, thank god there was no depraved nudity.
Once back at the bikes, we met up with the fish loving bikers, who had similarly given up the search for the fritter people, and were planning a run for home, or at least the next Tim Horton's on the way home. So we hadn't needed the cell phones after all, ESP was enough for us to meet up.

Pictures. I took both today in Port Dover. For once I didn't steal the pictures off the internet. First picture is our motley group of seven bikers. Mary Ann and the Burgman are in the middle. And I believe it is two firsts for our group: to have two women riders on their own bikes, (normally none) and also the first scooter ever.