Dear Reader,
I hope you weren’t expecting knitting content…I have knit soooooo many things that haven’t made it to the picture/blog stage. I might as well give up on some of them at this point. School is trying to kick my butt, and I’m trying to kick it back. This week I have a stats test, public policy midterm, public policy presentation, etc. etc. EEK! Well, what this post IS about is the yearly phenomenon that happens in Fayetteville, AR…BIKES, BLUES, AND BBQ! Really, I’ve always hated this festival, and each year it gets bigger. When I first moved here it started on a Thursday and went till Sunday. Then they started beginning the festival on Wednesdays. This I could hear bikes rolling in on Monday and by Wednesday the downtown area was absolutely insane already. You don’t realize how loud motorcycles are until they completely invade your town. I’ve never had anything against bikes, blues, bikers, or barbecue before. I still don’t really, but I do try to leave the house as little as possible for practical purposes during this time. Here is an example:
That was taken mid-day yesterday. Saturday is the biggest day of the festival. The street downtown area is blocked off for the constant bike parade. This year wasn’t as bad as last year for me, because I used to live about two blocks from this area and there was no escape. Now I’m about a mile and a half away, so I can still find quiet. My old apartment complex also used to make us move our cars to sell spaces to bikers. Grrrrr. Maybe I should let this bitterness go and make peace with the bikers. I did enjoy myself a bit yesterday. Walking around with a camera is a nice way to remove yourself or get attention if you want to. There were a few characters on the streets.
It was good to get out and about for this. I’d never actually walked up and down Dickson St. (pictured above) during this festival. Strict avoidance was my usual policy. This also made me haul out my D90 and take some pics. Oddly enough, I barely took any pictures this summer. That’s kind of a depressing thought. My friend Susan went on this adventure with me. Here is a picture of her and a guy with beer coozies that say “Peckerwood Pimp Daddy”. What?! He has the biggest beads I’ve ever seen.
And last but not least…a fella that’s bad to the bone.
I don’t know if I could handle this festival. I’m not into the piercing sound of just one motorcycle, let alone dozens. I’ll stick to my man powered bike, thanks. Much more earth friendly, anyway. (do I sound like a grandma yet?)
HEY! This isn’t about knitting…