6 P R

6 P R

Sunday Aug. 17th. Ride:    BBQ at "Fort Pierce Inlet State Park" 

Sunday Aug. 10th. Ride: Marco Island Rain and Shine ride

From Starbucks Boca to 84 Diner, Six Point Riders met up at the parking lot. We all welcomed Harry and Tova back from their RVing /Riding adventures in the north, and congratulated Mati for her newly acquired Motorcycle License.  We were led by Harry and assisted by Shlomo as our Sweeper for this ride. On Hwy 41 we spotted dead gators on the side of the road that were accompanied by vultures and a stench that carried on for miles. It was quite a nice peaceful riding time in the hot sun until at one point we saw the sky changing, the clouds shifting, and winds growing stronger as the screen of rain approached quickly. Well, this did not hold us back; we got our rain gear out and continued on after a quick stop at the gas station to refuel a second time.  Upon arrival to Marco Island we met up with the better halves of Doron, Simon, Reuven and Shlomo. Our hopes to cool off in the hotel’s pool were smashed due to the rain and cloudy weather, so we all decided to change our agenda and do what we do best – EAT. We stopped by Snook Inn Restaurant and enjoyed the food and conversation.  After stretching our legs for a bit and walking around to check out the folk singer/guitar player outside, we decided to get going but not before a strong cup of Joe stop at the local Starbucks.   Before heading back we made sure to go over riding tips and ideas for more safe and fun rides.  So, we did get sweaty and hot, then wet and cold, then hot again but RAIN or SHINE, It was still a good day to be a Six Point Rider!         Reut.

Ride, Sunday, June 8TH. Reut's BBQ Port St. Lucie

The call went out and 18 folks spooled up for a free barbeque at Reut's newly acquired digs. We took a swift ride up to Port St. Lucie, a place heretofore untouched by the Miami demographic. There would have been more people to ride with but Harry didn't heed the warning from the movie title, which most of us attended just two days prior. HE MESSED WITH THE ZOHAN. So he spent the weekend in the hospital garnering pity from Tova and all of the local docs. It must have been the butter popcorn.
By the time we arrived at Reut's, the barbeque pit was flaming, the cheeses and humus and all imaginable crackers were flirting, the skewered chicken and hot dogs were dancing, the cool drinks were cascading, so we all had to join in and make order of the feast. By the way, Reut's house was quite nice but the house's foundation shook as Rubin hung not one but four mezuzot to our thunderous chants of prayers, but who has time to dwell on that when there is all this food to consume, and major chats to be had, Hebrew and otherwise. Yes, the Israelis showed up in full force and we met three wonderful newbie wives. Mati made the mistake of offering me a choice of two different kinds of coffee and before one could turn around, there were 15 cups of Joe smoldering and rounds of apple pie and huge strawberries graced the "cement pond." We ate so much that we had to depart in two groups as just one could not accommodate our ever-increasing girth. AH!! It's good to be a Six Point Rider (especially at a open house barbeque.)                George Foti

 Sunday, June 1st.. Ride:   Old Key Lime

Ten Six Point Riders and a newbie were seen loitering around Starbucks, with cappuccinos, exotic teas, and the odd cressont in hand. They played musical chairs as the baking sun peaked through the clouds. Israeli time prevailed, so we left for our long and arduous ride to the Old Key Lime Shack in Lantana by 10:00 AM. It’s amazing how much pent up conversation there is to disperse from just one week ago. We welcomed the cool breezes off the Atlantic on our way to the restaurant along A-1-A. At the eatery, we had our choice of ordering from the breakfast or lunch menus. There was no politically correct choice so I ordered from both menus. Mel held a highly informative presentation on the R-2-R event in Omaha as a tear formed in our collective eyes at the sunset of his presidency of the J.M.A.
At the conclusion of our feast instead of laying down for a well earned nap, Harry jetted us through the Lantana Park. Some of our overstuffed, drowsy, riding companions (me), were strained to lean into some curves and entered too hot. Not to worry as 15 mph speeds were rarely exceeded. We dispersed to our homes somewhat perspired but grateful for another day with the buds at 6-P.R.                         George Foti

 Sunday May 25th. ride :  MEMORIAL DAY CELEBRATION at Cafe 27

Ten hungry members gathered at the Bagel Place and settled in for the morning gorging. After all, we would ride all the way down to the SR-27 truck stop where ABATE was waiting. We all welcomed Harry and Shimon back from their great road riding adventures in North Carolina, Tennessee, and W. Virginia. The JMA rally in Omaha is a great success, according to Mel. We wish them luck with the weather. Following our sumptuous meal, we read down to witness the ABATE spectacle. There were the usual vendors and all of the great looking bikes and their riders. The food was plain fair and the band was loud. Interestingly, our organization was approached by four like minded folks wanting to join us in Boca. People do recognized a fine group of friends. We’ll hope to see them soon. After three band numbers, we re-fueled and tooled home without drama. A good day to ride with Six Point Riders.  George

Sunday, May 18th. Ride :   La Trattoria Restaurant on the water

Sunday, April 6th.:  42nd. Annual Truckload Of Cheer Run by STATES MC

 Sunday, March 30th. Ride :  Fiasco Bro's MC. 10th. annual , Vero Beach In contrast to last weekend’s ride, Easter Sunday, when the Pope came to bless and Osama came to curse the day, 14 riders showed up anticipating the day’s events but got rained out, this Sunday was slightly overcast but gorgeous and nine bikers declared their fervor to ride. It was good to see Mel rejoining the riding flock. We stretched our wings out to Vero Beach to help support Fiasco Bros MC bid to aid battered women. We didn’t participate in the poker run but lent our financial support by donating lots of cell phones. That organization has a great clubhouse with all of the usual biker accoutrements. Even the local constabulary had a presence and were chatting us up under the only shade tree in the parking lot. Tova rolled into the event with Israeli music blaring from her bike and like the Jewish Pied Piper had several local riders dancing and singing in the parking lot, and not for the first time either. Soon we were ready for what we do best, EATING!!, and the Riverside Café, located just on the other side of Hwy 60 Bridge was suggested by the locals. Unfortunately neither the GPS nor the hostess who answered their telephone knew where the place was located. No problem as Harry, our food hound soon ferreted the place out. The fare was as usual but the ambiance along the waterfront marina made up for it. Filled with the day’s philanthropy and gluttony, we pointed our wing feathers Boca bound and the prevailing winds ushered us back to our home turf. It’s good to be a Six Point Rider.           George Foti

Sunday, March 16th. Miccosukee Indian Village  Those of us that could muster the energy to roll out of bed for the Sunday ride after the debauchery of the previous night, all seventeen of us, took off the Miccosukee Indian Reservation. Why you might ask, well because it was there and we needed to ride off the breakfast we had earlier. We saw an antique car and motorcycle show, two sleepy alligators made to perform for us and a small alligator which we all befriended and handled like a pet kitten. The ride there and back was long in the heat of the day, but good comradery and the fun Buffee made us say “It’s Good To Be A Six Point Rider”.      George Foti

Saturday, March 15th. Mati's BBQ Party  Saturday was the Mati Danny and Reut Picnic. Almost the entire horde turned out for this extravaganza. We would only be satisfied with a twelve course meal, a spectacular sunset, in a beautiful location, and our gracious hosts didn’t disappoint. Harry and Tova also exhibited a Herculean effort in assisting with the barbeque pits and the campfire to follow. Mati used to cook for the entire Israeli army and all that training was put to the test and easily surmounted. We could have fed the army as well but both Don and I were invited so no morsel of food went undigested. Wile sipping Israeli Coffee and a myriad of private label teas, we ogled at Reut’s magnificently painted wall mural and her art portfolio. It’s good to be young and talented as well. With spirits riding high, Paul announced the election of our two new members into the organization; Shimon and Shlomo, with their respective wives. As the sun sank into the everglades we were left full, fat and contented, and grateful to Mati and Danny for their terrific hospitality.    George Foti

Key West Ride Feb. 16/08  Eleven sleepy Six Point Riders gathered at 8:00 AM. to assault Key West on a two day overnight. Immediately apparent was that with two lady riders, there were more women than men; WHAT the …. The men turned out their better halves and the usual biker drab, turned into dazzling fashion statements. There was Tova and Harry; Mati, Danny and Reutt, Fanny and Shlomo, Monique and Shimon, and Susie and myself. The ride down to the Key’s was uneventful; a mixture of sunshine, traffic, small islands and expansive ocean views.
Comedy had a turn when Reut forgot to turn her bike’s petcock to reserve and hence stalled out right in front of a State Trooper. Not to be outdone, Shlomo caught a bee in his helmet but decided to set it free. Tova’s bike got a gasoline wash when the pump nozzle reared up in Harry’s hand. Susie, the seasoned traveler got us a motel room right above the noisy and hot laundry room. The Seafood Restaurant just couldn’t get Mati’s tuna dinner right, though they tried thrice. Shimon forgot that he ate at the restaurant of his own choosing. We all gawked with amazement as Shlomo’s BMW lifted both him and his bike onto the bike’s center stand with one touch on the reverse button, even after a big meal. With Duval Street in plain sight, I managed to lead the troop through the Casbar of Key West with its enticing alleyways, dumpsters, and ram shackled tenements straight into the parking lot from hell with its hellish attendant. Shlomo could not make peace with the attendant, not for the lack of trying, so Harry left the parking lot in a clandestine fashion.
After dinner at a seafood restaurant we took in Duval Street. There was the usual tourist shopping, the hubbub, the tee-shirts, shiny jewelry, and the assorted whips and chains. We were well entertained by street freaks, two youths packing, talented street singers and accomplished drummers. Reutt would have partied us under the table were it not for her parents watchful eyes. Bike banter aside, the conversation both at tableside and street-side was revealing, but only to those speaking the language. Cipy in Israel, would have been proud if she heard the incessant Hebrew rhetoric that surrounded us. I guess, nobody in this crowd, has ever heard of Post or Vanderbilt.
On the way home, following a round of hearty congratulations and backslapping about our trip so far and in spite of a clear forecast from the XM satellite GPS, the Florida Heaven’s opened up with 1½” of downpour. Nonetheless we all made it home safely and a little wet. A great time was had by all.              George Foti
 

Sunday, Feb. 10th. ride :  Seventeen riders emerged from their cocoons to join us for the trek to "Harry and the Natives".  Most of the ladies showed up for this ride and were sporting all manner of riding apparel. We headed out on US-441, up to the Bee Line, then a secret serene road that every motorcyclist would envy and then to our culinary destination. The ride to Hobe Sound was cool, the weather was breezy and the food was, as usual. Some wanted suntans while waiting to be served, others shunned the sun like albinos but all were mesmerized by the old Ford Truck Barbeque Grill. It in fact prompted Mati to announce to the group, (through her mouthpiece; Tova) that the Six Point Riders cookout at her house will commence hence fourth. After a lengthy sit, a gargantuan meal, and a prolonged parking lot rally we departed for our various homes along the Florida Turnpike. A great day for all.          George Foti

Sunday Feb. 3rd. ride to Hollywood Fl.    Six riders showed up to Starbucks to wile away the hours prior to "Superbowl" Start time. All of the major bike markes were represented and after a few sticky buns and some coffee we were off on A-1-A to Hollywood. The weather was clear and cool, the traffic was light and the music was decidedly, Israeli. We made it to Le Tub restaurant without much fanfare, but too early, so we toured through Three Mile Island in two miles. Our riding acumen was so polished that we dared not U-turned back to Le Tub, and Thomas Circle became our new destination. An antique car show, oldies music, some lunch, and a delicious dessert later, we disbursed to root for our favorite football team or to catch the snazzy commercials. Great camaraderie as always.            George Foti

     Sunday, Jan 27th. ride. Clewiston ride    A group of eight riders gathered at Starbucks including two newbees. The clouds appeared ominous but they would not deter our ride to Clewiston and the promise of barbequed feastings. We headed out on Rt-441 and took in the Wellington Mall on our way to Canal Point. Viewing the actual Lake Okeechobee made liars out of the drought heretics as the water level appeared only slightly below normal (~2 feet) and we significantly added to that total. We rode through some depressed areas and some palm tree lined thoroughfares. The sun shone on Sonny's Barbeque and we succumbed to the sweet aromas wafting through the parking lot. We gorged and on preparing to leave one of the newbee's bikes would not start. Emergency surgery in the parking lot with all manner of tortured instruments yielded a dead patient but high hopes. The group mourned the dead and departed only after casket bearers were summoned for the Harley Funeral. The experience left us a little late, wild and wooly and we made it home in no time at all.
Incidentally, the Saturday Safety and Skills course left us all feeling better about our demonstrable riding skills.                   George Foti

 Sunday, Jan 13th. ride. Fifteen members met for breakfast and chat at the Bagel tree. We talked about life in general as well as some safety concerns while riding with a large group. Israeli music always lights up the heart and three gals rhythmically raised some dust in the parking lot. We met some folks from the Chi Riders of New York and like long lost brethren threatened to give the check from our breakfast to each other. The ploy didn’t work. With rain clouds threatening we tooled down to Harley Davidson of Fort Lauderdale to participate in their Poker Run, to aid Joe DiMaggio’s Children Hospital, and sauntered through the dealership showroom for some goodies. After spending some hard earned cash we mounted up and rode to the Harley Dealer of Sunrise and were greeted with the sounds of the band and the smell of burning hot dogs and hamburgers wafting through the air. The vendors were grateful for our presence and we didn’t disappoint. We dispersed to the far corners of Boca just before the tremendous downpour. A great day with the buds.             George Foti

        Sunday, Jan 6th. ride. Alabama Jack, Key Largo   With a great bang from our exhaust pipes, 2008 rolled around and 13 intrepid bikers spun out of Starbucks for the ride to “Alabama Jack’s” Key Largo. The Israeli Contingent was flexing their muscles and their sweet chatter flowed like fine aged wine. We toured through I-95 and stopped off at Vizcaya for a breather and realized the futility of this grand place without our women and vowed to return at a later date with the latter. Then we assaulted Cutler Ridge along the water and finally ended up at the eatery. The ride forced two of our riders on their knees: First Saul, while posing for a group photograph and then Paul, who had to fix not one but two rear tire flats. (The whole thing blew up in the end.) Jack’s was nice, the food was acceptable, the music was decidedly country, and the conversation priceless. A great time was had by all.         George Foti

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