The Oyster Run is held in Anacortes, Washington on the last Sunday of September. It has been growing every year and this year estimates were in the 20 thousand bike range. It's supposed to be the largest single day event in the northwest and for most is one of the last major rides of the season. It is really well attended by all sorts including the 1%er crowd – mostly of the Red & Gold variety as they pretty much dominate Washington state (although there is one nomad chapter of the 81 I think). I'm from B.C. (just across the border) and the HA are the only game in town there so it's kinda interesting to see some different colours (no, this word is not spelled wrong – believe it or not we Canadians spell it differently) in the crowd.
Except for the raw oyster shooters being served up all over town, it's pretty much a typical bike event with the street vendors selling cheap leather, “Insert name here” blues band on the outdoor stage, bars doing a booming business and the usual assortment of bikes and humanity lining the streets – more Japanese bikes this year than I'm used to seeing but they are still very much in the minority (thankfully).
I've been going for a few years and the weather usually seems to hold out for us – this year was no exception – about 70 degrees and sunny in the afternoon which is great cuz in a couple of weeks its going to turn to rain and 45 – 50 degrees and stay that way until March.
Anyway; just a little context as far as how my day went. You should know that I've never been much of a “joiner” – always preferred to do things pretty much on my own. That especially includes riding. A couple of times a year though I seem to end up in a pack ride somewhere with a bunch of friends and friends of friends (and this year – their wives and girlfriends??!!). This just serves to remind me of why I hate pack riding. Really; if I wanted to go for a Sunday afternoon toddle with a bunch of people and their wives I would have bought a mini-van instead of a Harley.
This pack ended up with about 30 people in it; most of whom I didn't know and who didn't have a clue how to ride in group. You know, a lot of passing each other to get next to Joe who just changed places with Dave so he could ride next to his girlfriend on her Honda Valkerie and so on. It was not only embarrassing but dangerous due to the fact that not many of them could hold their line in a curve. This was really a shame too because the ride to Anacortes from Vancouver is a blast that includes the full length of historic Chukanut Drive. In case you haven't heard of Chukanut; it is a fantastic stretch of twisty road that runs along the Pacific Ocean coastline from Bellingham south almost to Anacortes.
My favorite part was stopping every 20 miles so some jackoff who didn't bother to fill up at the last pit stop could get gas or so we could wait for the stragglers who didn't make it through the light or so the guy at the front could figure out where he was going etc etc etc. What should have been an hour and a half ride quickly (or more accurately – slowly) became a 3 hour ordeal. I honestly can't figure out what guys see in pack riding – even when it's done properly I'm always waiting for the first excuse to take off and get some real riding done.
I guess if that's what you're into (or you're a club member or whatever) then more power to you – it's just not for me.
We passed a gruesome wreck on the last stretch of highway outside of Anacortes – looks like a group of “Bros” on their V-Rods got tangled up with a cage and one guy was being loaded into the ambulance as we passed. He must have died cuz at the end of the day on the way out of town there was still six cop cars there taking measurements and photos and stuff. I saw two other accidents on the way home as well; with that much traffic on the road it's probably unavoidable but I still hate to see it.
Once we arrived things picked up. Lots to look at and the bars haven't figured out how to gouge bikers yet so the food and beer is plentiful and cheap. They really should think about making this a multi-day event or at least move it to a Saturday so we all don't have to head back early to work the next day. (might lessen the number of wrecks too come to think of it)
My “crew” had all agreed to meet up at 4:00 to make the trek back home. I took this as my cue to get “lost” in the crowd. I managed to get back to where we parked ahead of the rest (no easy task) and headed out on my own for the ride home (which was great by the way). All in all an excellent day.
I'm not much of a photographer but here's a couple of shots I took during the day. I particularly like the one of the old Indian with the quart of oil bungeed to the handlebars and the shot of the triplet blondes in panties and chaps (unfortunately they bear no resemblance to the wives and girlfriends I mentioned earlier).
Enjoy
JD
