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Here come the HOG chapters. The Harley Owner Group
is always well represented at these celebrations. United States flags, as
well as HOG flags proclaim allegiances.
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More HOG chapters make their presence known. These
groups are formed all over the world, though most originate in the United
States.
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And still more representatives of an assortment of
HOG chapters.
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An English Bobby from Wisconsin? Well, perhaps he
is form London or Cambridge Wisconsin.
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Just about at the top of the hill, the parade riders
pass Butch's Steak House.
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Stompin' at the Ramada.
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More riders pass the Ramada. The fingers they have
raised show that we are all number one.
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Another bunch, including this sidecar equipped rider,
pass by the top of the hill. The street is beginning to get more crowded
now.
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I suspect these two have not come far. Their conservative
and understated headgear identifies them as probable residents of Wisconsin.
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Neat looking trike. The paint job makes it look like
a 100mph lemon, or the banana ice cream man.
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A tip of the hat from this gentleman rider and his
wife.
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People wander out into the street as far as they dare,
or as far as the overstressed authorities let them.
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This rider must get great radio reception. Or perhaps
the horns have some other significance.
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And over they go, the hill has been topped, and it
is time to head down towards Milwaukee Street and the Lake.
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A lone figure wanders out into the fray, perhaps to
take a photograph. Though the traffic is moving slowly, and everyone is in
high spirits, this is probably not the best place to be standing. I certainly
wouldn't try this on a regular day during the week.
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Everyone needs someone to cuddle up with at the end
of the ride.
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One waves while the other photographs. Most look,
and can not believe the numbers of people who have come to wish them well.
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The sixties, and seventies live.
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Stopping at the top of the hill, the procession has
halted for a moment. The traffic officers eye, and approach a man who is
standing out in the road where he should not be. There was a considerable
amount of this going on, and it was all in the spirit of the moment, but
it tended to severely slow the progress of the riders.
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The fifties live, and hearken back to a time when
real women wore pink, and were proud if it.
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