Out last night again in the rolling thunder of Main Street but feels like temporary (I hope) hearing loss. The Roaring Harleys could be a bar band but in fact they're the constant 130 decibel soundtrack of Bike Week. The irony is that the noise on Main Street drops off sometimes because the traffic is so jammed and the bikes move slowly, whereas on the open boulevards in front of us they roar in packs at 40 to 60 to 80 mph from 7 a.m. to 3 in the night.
The crowds and motorcycles are still growing but the reinforcements now include Spring Breakers who, like us, think they just stepped into the middle of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. We have a laugh trying to decide whether people in the elevator are "Bikers or Breakers?" Could be a new reality show; clues are in the tatoos, sunburnt faces, and patches on the jeans.
Today was a day to retrench away from the front lines, until we attend a very spiritual event tonight. Even saw the return of our dear Discovery --- it had passed overhead on the landing glide path but of course we couldn't hear the sonic booms on re-entry because of, you guessed it, the Roaring Harleys.
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