Nice Hooters

Nice Hooters

UP FRONT

David Edwards

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS up when I went to collect my media passes. No scowling Pen-Pusher From Hell. No need for an FBI background check. Not even a barked demand for a photo ID, business card or letter from my mom. Just a sweet, smiling, “There you are Mr. Edwards. Is there anything else we can help you with today? No? Well, y’all have a nice time at the Hoot.”

Shock and amazement. These people were giving credential-Nazis the world over a good name.

It was my first morning at the Honda Hoot in Asheville, North Carolina, and the tone-sunny and congenial-for the next four days had been set.

“It’s the South,” explained Charlie Keller, manager of the Honda Rider’s Club of America and organizer of this, the third-annual Hoot. “Everything you’ve heard about Southern hospitality is true. Of course, we also bring in excess of $5 million to the community while we’re here, and that doesn’t hurt.”

More than 6000 rally-goers attended this year’s event, greeted by “Welcome Hooters” signs spread throughout Asheville, a quaint town of 65,000 nestled against the Blue Ridge Parkway in the western corner of the state.

“We want to make the Hoot a rally like no other-no weenie-bite contests or typical rally-type events,” says Keller. “We want to attract an eclectic group, everything from sportbikes to cruisers to tourers. Our goal is to make the Hoot a motorcycle vacation.”

The Hoot may be organized by Honda, but Keller has been busy courting other bike-makers. Yamaha, BMW, Buell and Triumph all had demo-ride programs at this year’s event.

“Honda is just trying to be a good corporate citizen and expand the motorcycle industry. If that happens, we know we’ll get our fair share of business,” Keller says. “Our goal is to give the customer something to do, an extra added value. If a buyer doesn’t meet like-minded friends or have events to go to, then he loses interest and his motorcycle goes into the want-ads.”

The range of activities at the Hoot was pretty impressive. Asheville’s civic center was given over to 70-odd display booths and vendors-muralists and pinstripe artists seemed to be doing landoffice business. Day-trips to various inviting-sounding destinations (Looking Glass Falls, Chimney Rock Park) were laid out. There was a poker run, with proceeds going to the Ride for Kids charity. Gold Wingers provided illumination at Wednesday night’s Light Parade, where two-wheeled lighthouses tried to outshine one other. If you were feeling particularly racy, you could have joined Erion Racing’s Kevin Erion on Friday’s sportbike ride (no, he wasn’t riding this month’s coverbike). Those looking to sharpen their skills could have signed up for classroom and range sessions put on by the Motorcycle Safety Foundation. And throughout the week, seminars on everything from insurance to first-aid to sportbike setup to tires and brakes were held.

For those in need of a break from bikes, there were antique shops to browse, steam-engine train excursions through the Great Smoky Mountains, white-water rafting for the adventurous, float trips on the French Broad River (I didn’t ask) for the less so, or visits to Biltmore Estate, the 250room “country home” of robber-baron George Vanderbilt, largest private residence ever built in the U.S.

Cycle World got in on the act, too. My restored 1970 CB750 K0 was shipped cross-country and I led a group of about 100 CW readers on a Wednesday-afternoon ride along the Blue Ridge Parkway, stopping at the picturesque, bikes-only Blue Ridge Cycle Resort in Cruso for conversation, ice cream and cold drinks. Later that night, the magazine hosted a downtown block party.

Southern hospitality struck again the next day in the cheerful form of Dolph Everest. A Honda district sales manager for Carolina and Virginia, Everest offered to lead a small group of us on a sport-tour of the region’s backroads. Worried that my 26-year-old, stockshocked 750 might be left sucking hind teat in the hills, Everest lent me his own VFR750. A good thing, too, because we were traveling in fast company-make that Fast Company, as Hal Baxter and Michael MacDowell, principals of the Hickory-based carbon-components maker, joined us on their tweaked Ducatis. MacDowell’s 900SS had one of everything in the company catalog, plus a very cool prototype carbon-carbon front rotor, which he made good use of in the twisties. Dolph got right with the program, too, impressing everyone by dragging those funny roll-over “wings” halfway up his ST1100’s fairing, a feat I previously thought possible only by flinging the bike down the road.

Highlight of the 375-mile loop was the run up Route 129 through Deal’s Gap, a little slice of sportbike heaven right there in the hills of southeastern Tennessee. The T-shirt I bought at the Crossroads of Time Motel & Motorcycle Campground (“Put your bones on the line, ride 129”) alleges 318 curves in 11 miles, and I have no reason to dispute the claim.

Final leg of the trip included the southernmost 50 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway, Baxter leading at a pace défendable only as a very liberal interpretation of the road’s 45-mph speed limit. Great good fun, though.

A few words about the parkway. Extending 469 miles along the crests of the southern Appalachians, it was built solely as a means of “motor recreation” linking the Shenandoah and Great Smoky Mountains National Parks. Basically, it’s a two-lane ribbon of asphalt lovingly laid down in a virgin forest-no billboards, no traffic lights, no guardrails. If you’ve never ridden the Blue Ridge, do yourself a favor and make plans now.

If you happen to run into 6000 or so Hooters along the way, so much the better.

Next year’s Hoot is scheduled for June 17-21. For more information, contact the HRCA at 310/783-3958.