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God Bless the Iron Horse Saloon. You can drink, boogie, watch a circus-like motorcycle show of death, cruise your bike through the middle of the crowd or tempt fate in the burnout pit! (That's the source of all the mystic smoke in the pictures.) It amazes me every year to see the wooden horseshoe structure actually still standing under the load of the beer-laden bikers. I briefly computed the odds of the entire shebang collapsing while we were there. A few of the bikers were drinking lite beer, so I figured we were safe to proceed.
Ms. Hustler had a nice little booty. You might be asking yourself what a married guy would be doing with his hand all over a butt like that... truth be told that the guys peer pressured me into the pose, then SHE forced me to put my hand right on her cheek. I really didn't want to do it and felt really humiliated and used. Frankly, I cried for a few minutes after the picture was taken. Don't ask about the shocker sign. It was also a common theme in the pics. The fellas still won't tell me what it means. What's up guys?!?
The last few pics were down at the Hess station near the speedway. It appears to be the favorite sport bike hangout ... lots of bling bling, including my favorite, the fuzzy bike. The dark parking lot next door appeared to be the perfect spot for street race negotiations. I'm sure there was shit talking well past sun-up.