[riverat]

As a young boy in the early sixties staying with my mother up the camp in gilmanton every summer from 1952 thru 1970 I witness alot of bike weeks. And I can remeber my mother being terrified of all the bikers camping all over the place, around the small Sawyer lake and on the sides of 107 and everywhere else. I thought it was really cool. I remember one year, my father had a volkswagon beetle around 1961 or so we were getting ready to get out of the car infront of the big brick church in laconia and a large group of bikers had stopped at the traffic light, some got off their bikes and walked over to another beetle parked a few spaces infront of us and lifted it up and rolled it over. Needless to say we did not attend mass that day.
Years later, I had a BSA Lightning and started attending the races in loudon when it was just a racetrack and woods, and you pay one price for the weekend, maybe 20. and camp in the woods and have a wonderful, memorable weekend.
I think it's all these memories that have kept me on 2 wheels since, I have traveled all over the country and motorcyclist have evolved over the years to a more civilized sort. But there's a liitle bit of rebel in all of us.