by Tim Leary

For many, the term "davenport" represents little more than a drool sponge for a Sunday snooze at Aunt Edna's after the family reunion cooler surrenders its last Bud. But if you mention the word "Davenport" to any member of the Antique Motorcycle Club of America (AMCA), however and they'll drool for a different reason. Their eyes will surely supersize as they describe for you the Mecca of antique motorcycle meets and its MegaMart of vintage parts for bikes 35 years old and older.

Held over Labor Day weekend at the Mississippi Valley Fairgrounds in Davenport, IA, the meet officially starts on Friday with the opening of the swap meet grounds (although many serious shoppers make key purchases on Thursday) and other events, including races.

Yup, you read that right: races. If you thought the owners of all antique bikes kept them throned in their living rooms in hermetically sealed cases, you couldn't be more wrong. These guys and gals tweak their motors looking for that small edge, don their racing leathers and duke it out on the dirt track, trading elbows in the corners. That includes some 1914-era boardtrack racers--unbelievably cool to see those machines still roaring for glory!

After a Friday night spent watching antique motorcycles seriously battling on the fairground's race track, we walked back to the camping area of the fairgrounds. The packed campground reverberated with intermittent bursts of hearty laughter as attendees traded lies and barbs over a few beers at their campfires.

In the daylight of Saturday morning, we got our first glimpse of the entire layout and quickly realized that this was much more than just a local or even regional event, but instead was surely drawing enthusiasts from all over the map. A world map, that is: "Mr. or Mrs. Harold Olson…your package has arrived from Germany and may be picked up at the registration building" boomed repeatedly from the fairground's loudspeakers.

Mouths agape at the enormity of the event, we looked over an area approaching a quarter mile long and a hundred yards wide divided neatly into 25 or 30 rows that were filled with every conceivable antique motorcycle part and complete bikes for sale awaiting the meticulous hand of restoration to breathe fire back into their cylinders.

Naturally, there were all of the recognizable vanilla flavors there, but the majority of the bikes were either names or models that many have never heard of: Marusho, Cedos, New Imperial, Levis, Fabrique Nationale, Ducati Falcon and Jupiter, and on and on and on…even some really old bikes that had no identifying marks on them. Then you get into the gajillion different parts being sold and who knows how many different brands are represented at the meet.

The meet is also an outlet for those enthralled with unusual vehicles to strut their stuff. From the guy with the motorized shopping cart to the owner of the WWII armored full-track vehicle to the creator of every conceivable motorized bicycle (including steam and a 55 mph red rocket), these guys were all in their glory.

By Saturday afternoon, we worked our way to the judging building where those who owned pristinely-restored antique bikes had them lined up for all of us to salivate over. Despite the argument that today's antique bikes are "over-restored" to finishes well beyond the manufacturing capabilities of their day, there is nobody on this big blue planet who can't appreciate the amount of work and attention to detail that go into these masterpieces. Absolutely stunning!

With the onset of evening came the meet banquet. Being an enormous meet, this banquet is a rather large affair and our suspicions of international participation were confirmed as a large table of attendees from Europe rose for acknowledgment. The banquet has earned a reputation for having a great guest speaker and food to match. It lived up to our tastebuds' expectations but the much-anticipated stories of Minneapolis' own racing legend Al Burke were not heard this year. Unfortunately, Al is boldly battling some health issues and his doctor insisted that he give us a raincheck for this year--we wish Al all the best for a recovery as speedy as he is.

Sunday held another day of events and swaps, but we headed for home. The concentrated, prolonged exposure to all of these old gems seriously afflicted me with a malady well-known in AMCA circles, The Antique Itch, and I could feel the weakening of my defenses which held my checkbook closed. Upon arriving home, the fever raged as I spent several hours rearranging the stuff in our 2-car garage trying to find enough room for a rolling basketcase or maybe even a runner. Defeated in my attempt, The Itch ebbed into remission.

Thankfully, our yard is just big enough for a garage addition and next year I'm bringing a trailer along--because there's only one known cure.

M.M.M.