I wasn't sure what to expect when I began my week in Daytona. Stood up by two notorious sandbaggers, accompanied by a grouchy old bike builder, riding a dirt encrusted 1200, I wasn't expecting much. All I knew is I needed badly to get away. It had been a cruel and uncertain fall season. I needed to be surrounded by the familiar, reuniting with by old friends, making new ones. For me and about 100,000 other folks, Biketoberfest 2001 was destiny. Fate lurked at every turn.

Niether war or layoffs could keep people away. My hideout was deep in the tropical foliage. It has become a sanctuary of sorts. Pittsburgh Mickey and Kansas City Anita, have sworn me to keep it's prime location a secret, lest other Steeler fans show up and disturb Anita's peace and quiet. I quickly staked out my camping site on the edge of the lake next to their 1 acre yard. I set up my tent and spent the night listening to Anita's complaints concerning Steeler fans. I was saving up my strength. I would need it.

Wednesday I was off to Beach St. I ran into Drag Specialties', Charlene Sparks, who promised to meet me Thursday night. Beach Street is without a doubt to place to see the latest products from almost every aftermarket manufacturer and bike builder.