Saturday July 3rd

OK, so we survived Friday night at the campfire with Bob and the gang to wake up Saturday a little fuzzy, but ready to go...after some coffee. Our destination Saturday morning was Bill's Old Bike Barn. We met up with Bill Morris right as his beautiful and gracious wife opened up the museum. Bill is a very friendly individual who loves to discuss his extensive collection, as is his wife and his trusty employee, who's name I did not get, I am afraid. But his trusty employee, whose name is unknown, took every opportunity to share his knowledge of the collection housed in this old building, which started in a very small space and eventually, and continually, is growing. What a great value for the $5. We spent three hours plus cruising through the extensive collection of Harley's, Indians, Guzzi's and allot of other brands of motorcycles, mostly old and collectible, that we were unfamiliar with. But, just like a Billy Maze commercial, wait, there's more. He and his wife (I am guessing) have spent a great deal of effort creating a total museum experience. Several years ago they added (and are still adding) a place called "main street", a re-creation of a street in a fictitious town that features a barber shop, camera shop, cigarette shop, gas station, bar, restaurant, etc. The only thing is that all of these establishments have been created to display their vast collection of memorabilia. For example, his
museum features a player guitar that actually plays (the sign says, just insert a quarter), the barber shop has a huge collection of actual razor blades in wrappers (for those of you who remember the little rectangular blades you used to insert into you razor); the camera shop is filled with old Kodak's and Browning's; it goes on and on. You spend your whole visit cranking your head up and about, trying not to miss the many little touches that have been anchored to every available ceiling and wall space...old Enthusiast (Harley Davidson) magazines dating back to the fifties, a whole room full of Avon (yes, ding dong, Avon calling) Cologne and after shave containers, soaps and perfumes. The list is endless. I will try to put together a slide show of all the photos I shot but so far Picasa is giving me a real ass ache over it. In the mean time, here are some of the more interesting items. Oh yeah, I forgot about the store on Main Street that featured nothing but memorabilia from the 1939 NY world fair. Amazing. And did I mention that Bill Morris was a very friendly, likable guy who started his museum when Harley Davidson sued him for displaying his growing collection without their blessing. His legal counsel told him to put it in a museum, charge admission and Harley couldn't say shit about it. The museum was getting one hell of an audience by the time we left at noon on Saturday. Touche, Bill.

Oh yeah, that afternoon we played miniature golf at a course I found on the web and face book, e-mailed the owner via face book to get directions and had 22 holes, all shaded and beautifully groomed on a plus-80-degree day. We had a blast before heading back to camp to join Bob and the gang at the campfire.