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| Best in Show IMHO |
When
they were last here, I only got a few photos before the batteries in the Canon
croaked.
This
year, I was aware when the deuces rolled into town; even if I hadn’t caught a
clip on the evening news, I couldn’t miss the roar of the engines or the slew
of candy-coloured paint jobs cruising up and down the main drag at the end of
the workweek. Boy Sister and I sat outside the Blanshard Street Starbucks and
watched them trickle through the intersection, unable to blend into traffic
because they are made to stand out. He got some great snaps of rear bumpers and
front fenders, or whole delivery vans and local SUVs – taking pictures of a
moving target takes some practice and more time than we had on our lunch break.
They
also rumbled along the road outside my living room window. I spent Friday
evening deuce-watching from the sofa, gleefully noting that the event known as
Northwest Deuce Days brings a plethora of restored classics out of the garage.
So much chrome, so many brilliant shades of wow!
... and the sound! That glorious, deep, rich, beautiful baritone grumbling purring
roaring bellowing sound! No earplugs, please – if I’m going to lose my hearing,
let it be to a vintage rod.
It’s the
best weekend of the year.
On
Saturday morning, I made sure the Canon was juiced for the deuce and took it
over to Clover Point for the Poker Run parade. I found a plum spot at the crest
of the hill and started snapping. Sure, I got my share of back ends and front
bumpers, but eventually I got the hang of when to press the button. I came away
with 55 photos worth keeping.
I may
have deleted a few more than that, but my favourite rods stayed within the
frame:
And
when all was said and done, I would have taken this one home:
I know. Sue me.
