As in years past, the plan was to meet up at Ronnie’s house for some pre-run libations. Oh sure, we could head over and line up with the rest of the masses - sit around for a couple of hours, waiting for the signal to fire up the engines…and then wait…and wait…and wait until it was finally our turn to kick down into gear and start snail-pacing in a forward direction. But we’d rather take a ride over to a buddy’s house, kick back with some frosties, and share some laughs. Those of us needing some last-minute adjustments to their rides could rest assured that the rest of us that were just standing around would be quick to lend a hand or be ready with the needed tools. Ha ha, right! In our world, the only thing that can be counted on is that we’ll be hiding the tools and hoarding the frosties!
But I’m getting ahead of myself. How about some history? Years ago, this run was one of the major Fall events to attend - not just for the enjoyment of a nice fall ride, or the amusement of seeing so many riders decked out in costumes, but for the after party! The run would wind up in front of the Cavan (tavern) in Hyde Park, bikes would commandeer both sides of the roadway, the lines at the bar would swell within seconds, and that’s when the real show would begin. Once having been attended to by the goddesses behind the bar, the patrons would pour back out on the concrete sidewalks to bear witness to the circus presented before them. Bikes of all makes and models would begin setting themselves apart from the parked witnesses. With a twist of their throttles and a roar from their engines, they would declare a patch of pavement as their own. They‘d bite into the claimed blacktop with ferocity, masticating it up with a healthy dose of rear tire, and spitting everything back to the sky in a rich, thick cloud. This in turn would of course be met with roars of approval from the studio audience. Inevitably, some hot classic cars would also make an appearance, ambling up and down, tossing their throaty roars into the mix. This street party would go on for hours, and as such, was the highlight for the day’s events.
But like all great things, this, too, would come to an end. Complaints from the neighbors (whatever for?) and the loss of patience/tolerance from the local constabulatory, meant the party was over. For the past four or five years, the run has ended at various bars and taverns, far away from Hyde Park. We usually break off near the end and rendezvous at whoever’s house is closest and knock back some more brew-ha-ha’s and talk about the day. This year, however, the run would end at a decent biker bar next to Gillette Stadium; The Outlaw. And, the bar was putting on a burnout contest and even had prizes for the best and second-best burnouts done. Now this was something akin to after-parties of old! The Outlaw hosts a weekly Bike Night during the summer and they have a burnout pit there full-time, that anyone can just roll into and fire it up if they like. No permission is needed, no advance warning is given. More than once, I have seen an otherwise off-night be awakened in such a manner. The stillness of the night is suddenly shattered by the sound of someone looking to make a contribution to the bottom line of their favorite tire company. But I digress (as usual). My point is that this year would find me in attendance at the end rally point once again, and up close and personal to The Pit.
The group pulling out of my driveway was smaller than that of years past; only three bikes. No worries; the weather is looking good for the day (mid 60’s, mostly sunny and clear), we should have a good spectator turnout along the route, and most importantly; we’re riding!
We gassed up at a nearby gas station and rolled out hard onto Rte 1, headed for Dedham and our rally point with the rest of the crew. We made the necessary right turn, bobbed and weaved our way past a couple of stop signs and rolled up upon Ronnie’s abode - and were greeted by the welcome sight of bikes lined up and waiting. We lined our rides up with the rest of the bikes, shut the engines down and said our hello’s.
We milled around for a bit, catching up on times and downing a few road sodas. When it was time to depart, we donned the masks/costumes, fired the bikes to life and hit the roads - the excitement and anticipation was building! I was running the Sweep position and we hadn’t gone more than a few miles before a car was riding up on our asses, the driver hanging out of his window, hollering to us. I cut over to the side and signaled the guy to come up beside me so that I could find out what his deal was. Turns out he was just a fan of the whole spectacle and only wanted to know if the annual run was going on today. He was more than excited to find out that things were, in fact, planned for today and with that, he happily pulled back to allow me room to catch back up with the rest of the crew.
We arrived at the starting point, were waved into the lot, paid our dues ($20 each!) and then coasted over to the far edge of the parking lot. We picked up where we’d left off with the refreshments and awaited word that things were kicking off. We did roll up closer to the front after a bit, but it was still a lot of wait and wait again. I surveyed the scene to see what had shown up for costumes - lots of cool masks, and a not a few instances of solid effort.
Zig’s contribution to the day’s festivites;
The announcement was made and the bikes started roaring to life. Those that had been caught unawares (or who had not been paying attention), scrambled to get to their bikes before the sea of motion passed them by.
The run was good; nice turnout along the route, plenty of kids - some even in costume themselves - lots of happy people enjoying the fun. Roughly 50 miles later, we arrived at the Outlaw and sidled up the entrance, fighting for position with every other rider there. The folks doing parking detail wanted us to follow the crowd and park in the middle of the lot but there wasn’t a chance of that happening. Spotting an opportunity, we split the gap between two bikes and broke for the far edge of the parking lot. We wanted the option of an open lane to the exit, should we need it. And as luck would have it, we would up very close to the burnout pit - I love when a plan comes together!
We hit the beer line, hit the food line, hit the beer line again, bought rounds for the crew, had rounds bought for us, shared laughs, caught up with folks not seen for a while, etc. Just general all-around good fun had by all. Lisa and I did the obligatory walk-around to see what cool rides we might find, and there were some decent offerings;
The only reason I took the following pic was that if there was a contest for the ugliest bike ever, this frikkin’ joke would be right up there. Just how ugly was this thing? Words fail me, and that’s a rare event in itself. I didn’t even bother sticking around to try and get a second, better shot.
The biggest disappointment of the day was that the burnout pit, for some reason, appeared to be dismantled. No hole shots were being done, no one was lining up…by all appearances, it seemed that the pit was off limits. What had happened? We'd been promised a burnout contest!?!?
Figuring that more political BS had won out over good clean harmless (?) fun, the choice was made to make a break for sanity. The homestead was only minutes away (and the beers didn’t cost $4 there), so we said our farewells and made for the exit.
It was a most-excellent day; a treat for the kids (and adults) who watched us pass, fun for us to put a show on for them, and good weather from start to finish. Sun, fun and friends - Can’t wait to do it again next year. 
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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