Before leaving Daytona, I wanted to visit Bruce Rossmeyer's Harley Davidson - world's largest Harley Davidson dealership. My reason for the visit was two-fold. In addition to wanting to see the dealership, I had lost my Harley key and was hoping to get a new one, or at least some provision for locking the motorcycle.
Unfortunately, they couldn't make a new key, and I wasn't interested in any of their alternative locks.
Even so, it was well worth seeing the Bruce Rossmeyer dealership; now owned by the family, after Bruce was tragically killed in a motorcycle accident while attending the annual Sturgis Black
Hills Rally in Sturgis, South Dakota.
It is a huge complex, featuring eateries, bars, a tattoo parlors, accessory shops, clothing outlets and even a hotel. And they also sell motorcycles! In fact, if they don't have it here, among their more than 800 models on the floor (and more in the warehouse), it probably isn't made.
It was 2:00 PM when I left Rossmeyer's, and headed south via highway A1A. With the late start, after only a few miles, it was necessary to start looking for a campground .
Just south of Edgewater, I found what was an "assumed" State Campground. It was assumed,
due to the fact that, despite not finding any evidence of at least an official campsite or any office in which to register, there were bathrooms and shower facilities. That was good enough for me. I made my own campsite, set up the tent and headed down the road for a beer.
Just before seeing the sign for the campground, I had passed a bar with several Harley's parked out front. I thought, at the time, that it would have been nice to stop, but decided that my first priority was to find a campsite. Now however, having set up the tent, it was time to check it out.
Much to my dismay, the sign on the door to the "All-American Club" said, "Members Only". Just as I was getting back on my Harley and thinking to myself, "How Un-American of the All-American Club"; a burly tattooed (obvious biker) appeared in the doorway and asked, "where you going"? To which I replied, "the sign says - Members Only".
He motioned me over, introduced himself as "Frostbite", asked my name and said, "Now your my guest - come on in!". An hour and a half and three beers later, I bowed out of any impending disaster and returned my campsite.
Before leaving, I did learn that the real name of the All-American Club was - The Boozefighter's Motorcycle Club. They proudly claimed to have club facilities (bars) in all most every state.
My later research uncovered that they do indeed have (at least) 101 chapters both nationally and internationally. The club has been in existence for over six decades, since it was first founded at the All-American Club in Los Angeles, California in 1946. The link provided is great piece of photo-journalism - check it out!
Summary: Before leaving Daytona, I wanted to visit Bruce Rossmeyer's Harley Davidson - world's largest Harley Davidson dealership
No comments:
Post a Comment