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By: Elizabeth Fajardo
looking sweet in an aqua blue Harley T that shined with silver stones, gave
looking sweet in an aqua blue Harley T that shined with silver stones, gave
us each a hug. Her warmth kept me going as our entourage of eight
headed south on the highway, the cool air melting amid thoughts of
friendship and the possibilities of the day.
friendship and the possibilities of the day.
Periodic gusts of wind followed our group—Manny, Lourdes, Walter, Phil
Smith (Armando), Dan, Dave (Sweaty D.), Rick and myself—as we took the
Marsh Road exit. The breeze enveloped us, as I tried to warm my gloved
hands in the sunlight, pressing tight at Rick’s waist, hoping for a reprieve.
Within seconds my focus was shifted as Ride Leader Phil was joined by
two energetic forces, Dan and Walter, who in tandem were in a race for the
finish, the inescapable sounds of revving motorcycles drowning out any
other thoughts. They reached the stoplight in a photo-finish draw. Those
boys! The rest of us coasted in behind, like test drivers from the flick “The
World’s Fastest Indian” at the Bonneville Salt Flats, glad to just be a part of
the experience, but knowing the competition could run with the best of
them. Then Sweaty D and Phil continued to lead.
Princess pink apple blossoms graced the roadway as we neared Thornton
Avenue and along Peralta Street. Once we arrived in the city of Niles it
was as if we were taken back—to a simpler time. To the left was Bronco
Billy’s Pizza Palace. The name alone made one feel welcome in a down-
home kind of way. Then there was The Florence, a café/sports bar that
soon had a sea of bikes lining its front door. Further north was the Chic-N-
Antiques shop. And to the right was Don’s Auto Parts. Part of the Posse
gravitated to the watering hole, while Walter, Rick and myself window
shopped at Don’s.
“I’ve been here before,” my guy said as he perused the metal objects in
the window, his eyes widening by the moment.
Walter had his own opinion: “The owner looks like he’s eighty years old. I
just saw him come out.” He added that you can find anything you need for
cars inside.
The three of us made our way to the The Florence where Sweaty D. was
standing near a metal statue of Charlie Chaplin directly outside the
establishment. Dave explained the history of the place and how there
were underground tunnels that were built during Prohibition. When the
back room wasn’t occupied, the management often supplies flashlights for
tours. He also revealed that Charlie Chaplin had hoped to make this area
Hollywood West, and there are reminders everywhere of his presence.
While Dan sipped Irish coffee and Phil and Manuel enjoyed their brews,
Lourdes accompanied me next door to explore the antique store. Black
and white diamond shaped beads reminiscent of the Seventies dangled in
the front window, enticing us to enter. A giant porcelain rooster in ivory
and red seemed bigger than life, surrounded by odds and ends, like turn-of-
the-century bicycles in all shapes and sizes. Inside was a different story.
We encountered all kinds of mugs from Betty Boop, shown dancing with a
pig and his accordion, to sunflower cups and other kitchen-friendly décor,
and miniature angel magnets for the fridge.
I asked if there was a sales table and the clerk directed us to a bookcase
full of items for the cost of a dollar. The Christmas section was beckoning.
My treat was a set of three miniature ornaments in one box—a teeny
Teddy bear, and pale blue drummer boy on a bright red drum, and a
miniature train with candy apple red wheels and a sky blue cabin. I was in
heaven. Not to mention a “Free Stuff” box—where a singular treasure
caught my eye. I had to bring home the paperback from the “Sweet Valley
Twins” collection that had once occupied my son’s shelf when he was in
grammar school.
Outside we discovered a garden surrounded by bird feeders that were
decorated from bottom to top in plastic sun flowers, and bird houses in
green and rose colors marked in front with “Welcome Home” signs. So
much to see. So little time.
The guys were about to finish their smokes so Lourdes and I decided to
leave—not before I spotted a four-inch tall Harley hog, wearing boots, and
beside it, a caramel brown Teddy bear sporting a little black Harley-
Davidson vest. I presented it to Armando for a prospective adoption. He
smiled with that twinkle in his eye, and even suggested that it might look
cool on his bike, but after some careful consideration, the young Teddy
had a longer shelf life. Then we were off to Dublin.
Kassabian Motors in Dublin had classic cars in fabulous colors and in mint
condition. No Edsels though!! While Sweaty D took pictures we perused
the hot machines. Rick and Manuel grooved on the oil black ’55 Chevy,
while I gushed over the ’66 canary yellow Ford Mustang and all her
relatives, including a white ’66 display model that reminded me of Steve
McQueen’s ‘67 Shelby Fastback—a car that could move. We rounded the
corner past the pin ball machines until our group hit “A Legend On
Display” Type 1 Corvettes. Lourdes was all smiles as she asked if we
could be photographed in front of her dream car-a pearl black Corvette.
Wish granted.
After the classy cars the Posse met Walter at Arlen Ness Motorcycles.
Chris Nelson came along for the ride. Dave decided to test drive a Victory
bike and seemed to have the time of his life doing it. Not long after, Phil
announced it was chow time and I agreed.
Our last stop was Nation’s Restaurant, secluded within a mini mall.
Everyone chose to go their separate ways, for the time being. Rick and I
walked to Arby’s where we munched on roast beef dipped sandwiches and
a chocolate shake. Chocolate—a perfect ending to a perfect run. And, no,
Daniel-Day Lewis (the malt-obsessed maniac in “There Will Be Blood”),
didn’t stop by and drink our milkshake on his way home.
looking sweet in an aqua blue Harley T that shined with silver stones, gave
looking sweet in an aqua blue Harley T that shined with silver stones, gave
us each a hug. Her warmth kept me going as our entourage of eight
headed south on the highway, the cool air melting amid thoughts of
friendship and the possibilities of the day.
friendship and the possibilities of the day.
Periodic gusts of wind followed our group—Manny, Lourdes, Walter, Phil
Smith (Armando), Dan, Dave (Sweaty D.), Rick and myself—as we took the
Marsh Road exit. The breeze enveloped us, as I tried to warm my gloved
hands in the sunlight, pressing tight at Rick’s waist, hoping for a reprieve.
Within seconds my focus was shifted as Ride Leader Phil was joined by
two energetic forces, Dan and Walter, who in tandem were in a race for the
finish, the inescapable sounds of revving motorcycles drowning out any
other thoughts. They reached the stoplight in a photo-finish draw. Those
boys! The rest of us coasted in behind, like test drivers from the flick “The
World’s Fastest Indian” at the Bonneville Salt Flats, glad to just be a part of
the experience, but knowing the competition could run with the best of
them. Then Sweaty D and Phil continued to lead.
Princess pink apple blossoms graced the roadway as we neared Thornton
Avenue and along Peralta Street. Once we arrived in the city of Niles it
was as if we were taken back—to a simpler time. To the left was Bronco
Billy’s Pizza Palace. The name alone made one feel welcome in a down-
home kind of way. Then there was The Florence, a café/sports bar that
soon had a sea of bikes lining its front door. Further north was the Chic-N-
Antiques shop. And to the right was Don’s Auto Parts. Part of the Posse
gravitated to the watering hole, while Walter, Rick and myself window
shopped at Don’s.
“I’ve been here before,” my guy said as he perused the metal objects in
the window, his eyes widening by the moment.
Walter had his own opinion: “The owner looks like he’s eighty years old. I
just saw him come out.” He added that you can find anything you need for
cars inside.
The three of us made our way to the The Florence where Sweaty D. was
standing near a metal statue of Charlie Chaplin directly outside the
establishment. Dave explained the history of the place and how there
were underground tunnels that were built during Prohibition. When the
back room wasn’t occupied, the management often supplies flashlights for
tours. He also revealed that Charlie Chaplin had hoped to make this area
Hollywood West, and there are reminders everywhere of his presence.
While Dan sipped Irish coffee and Phil and Manuel enjoyed their brews,
Lourdes accompanied me next door to explore the antique store. Black
and white diamond shaped beads reminiscent of the Seventies dangled in
the front window, enticing us to enter. A giant porcelain rooster in ivory
and red seemed bigger than life, surrounded by odds and ends, like turn-of-
the-century bicycles in all shapes and sizes. Inside was a different story.
We encountered all kinds of mugs from Betty Boop, shown dancing with a
pig and his accordion, to sunflower cups and other kitchen-friendly décor,
and miniature angel magnets for the fridge.
I asked if there was a sales table and the clerk directed us to a bookcase
full of items for the cost of a dollar. The Christmas section was beckoning.
My treat was a set of three miniature ornaments in one box—a teeny
Teddy bear, and pale blue drummer boy on a bright red drum, and a
miniature train with candy apple red wheels and a sky blue cabin. I was in
heaven. Not to mention a “Free Stuff” box—where a singular treasure
caught my eye. I had to bring home the paperback from the “Sweet Valley
Twins” collection that had once occupied my son’s shelf when he was in
grammar school.
Outside we discovered a garden surrounded by bird feeders that were
decorated from bottom to top in plastic sun flowers, and bird houses in
green and rose colors marked in front with “Welcome Home” signs. So
much to see. So little time.
The guys were about to finish their smokes so Lourdes and I decided to
leave—not before I spotted a four-inch tall Harley hog, wearing boots, and
beside it, a caramel brown Teddy bear sporting a little black Harley-
Davidson vest. I presented it to Armando for a prospective adoption. He
smiled with that twinkle in his eye, and even suggested that it might look
cool on his bike, but after some careful consideration, the young Teddy
had a longer shelf life. Then we were off to Dublin.
Kassabian Motors in Dublin had classic cars in fabulous colors and in mint
condition. No Edsels though!! While Sweaty D took pictures we perused
the hot machines. Rick and Manuel grooved on the oil black ’55 Chevy,
while I gushed over the ’66 canary yellow Ford Mustang and all her
relatives, including a white ’66 display model that reminded me of Steve
McQueen’s ‘67 Shelby Fastback—a car that could move. We rounded the
corner past the pin ball machines until our group hit “A Legend On
Display” Type 1 Corvettes. Lourdes was all smiles as she asked if we
could be photographed in front of her dream car-a pearl black Corvette.
Wish granted.
After the classy cars the Posse met Walter at Arlen Ness Motorcycles.
Chris Nelson came along for the ride. Dave decided to test drive a Victory
bike and seemed to have the time of his life doing it. Not long after, Phil
announced it was chow time and I agreed.
Our last stop was Nation’s Restaurant, secluded within a mini mall.
Everyone chose to go their separate ways, for the time being. Rick and I
walked to Arby’s where we munched on roast beef dipped sandwiches and
a chocolate shake. Chocolate—a perfect ending to a perfect run. And, no,
Daniel-Day Lewis (the malt-obsessed maniac in “There Will Be Blood”),
didn’t stop by and drink our milkshake on his way home.