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Parked in the park. People sit in the late
day sun, resting up for the night.
Below:
A Harley truck makes a nice backdrop.
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A look up a small lagoon made by some landfill
at the edge of the grounds. Note the rocks at the waters edge which help
with erosion, and also discourage boat owners from landing stowaways on the
grounds.
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Gathering around a factory custom bike.
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Some visitors take a break, and relax for
a moment. One appears to be very relaxed.
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There is plenty to eat, and there are many
tables benches and tree lining the grounds.
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A visit to one of the several exhibit halls
on the festival grounds. This one is overlain with orange canopies.
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A classic shovel head Harley full dresser,
from just after the company buy out. This was a harbinger of better times
to come, as Harley Davidson took control of itself.
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An obvious bike expert, critically examines
a classically styled Harley from the eighties.
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Others examine the same bike, but their
attentions seem to be focused far less critically.
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Viewing a seasoned Sportster. There are
bikes here, from the entire history of the companies operations.
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Milling through the Workforce building.
It is filled with everything you would want to know about the history of Harley.
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People gather at both sides of the exhibit
platform to view bikes, historical displays, and some video exhibits. The
canopy above generates quite an intimate atmosphere.
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Boys and bike confront each other.
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Girls (pardon me, I meant young ladies)
like Harleys too.
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More young ladies viewing machines, which
had at one time been the domain of the male of the species.
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A fat boy (bike that is) with an
early evolution engine
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Sheltering under the orange canopy almost
makes this otherwise huge amphitheater, seem like quite the cozy spot for
a display of bikes, and of Harley history.
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Viewed though the flaps of the frame tent,
is the US Bank center, which is proudly telling the world that Harleys
are made here. This can be seen all over the festival grounds, and all
over the downtown and though much of the city.
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Meeting at the fountain, and letting the
sound of the waters, produce a momentary isolation from the organized amusements
of the night.
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