I’d signed up for the day and night rides on Halloween. Savannah is a place for celebrations and Halloween is no exception. Holly put together a ride during the day and Gage set another one after dark, and he invited me along for both. My plan was to get the small service on the GS done at his shop first thing in the morning and then head out with everybody.

My oil filter had other plans. By the time Gage muscled that thing off the bike, the day ride had left without us. Shift happens. We had a great ride together back into town.

We did catch up with everyone for lunch at Tubby’s Seafood. Gage didn’t quite know where the restaurant was and, well, I did. What a concept. What he didn’t know is I’d been here for lunch with my aunt, parents, and nephew on three different occasions.

Thirteen riders had done the day ride, and every single one of them was in costume. I’m impressed. Gage had traded his shop clothes for a hot dog costume (mustard squiggle and all), and he stood there next to his scrambled Sportster like this was a perfectly normal thing to do. He’s one of the few people I know that can really own that kind of costume. I have had a lot of people work on my motorcycles over the years. Until Halloween, none of them had finished the job and then turned into a hot dog.

My contribution to the festivities was a pumpkin. I had ordered a fuzzy orange helmet cover from Amazon with a stem on top, a row of jagged teeth around the visor, and blinking lights. It wasn’t of super high quality (I mean, it was $20). The lights only blinked when they felt like it, but it stretched over my helmet and it grinned at everyone in the parking lot. The pumpkin got plenty of shoutouts and kudos over the course of the day, so I’d say it did its job.

About ten of us showed up for the night ride, and roughly half the group was still in costume. Gabe was one of them (still a hot dog), and he had brought tools with him. I’d told him that one of the turn signals on the GS was working its way out of its mount, a souvenir from dropping the bike in North Carolina about 4,000 miles ago. He fixed it right there in the parking lot before we rolled out. That made twice in one day that the man worked on my motorcycle, and both in costume.

Gabe’s route took us through downtown Savannah, out toward Whitemarsh Island, and then back into town. This is also where the pumpkin and I had our falling out. The fuzz and the teeth that looked so good in the daylight hang down around the visor, and once it got dark, the whole arrangement really obscured my vision. Fudge! Wandering through downtown turns out harder than I’d expected as I lost just about all of my peripheral vision. I had to turn my head a LOT more which surprised me as it wasn’t as profound during the day.

Savannah was in full spirit. This is a town that likes to celebrate. Kids were trick-or-treating in town. SCAD (Savannah College of Art and Design) students were off to the bars, and the older folks were ambling from stores to restaurants.

I walked around with the camera for a while, and what struck me was the mix. There were Harleys, sport bikes, a dual sport, Gabe’s Sportster, and one big blue-and-white BMW. That’s been my experience with the Kickstart crowd since I started showing up at the Foxy Loxy, too.

I’ve done most of my riding out west, and I’m still working out what riding looks like for a Westerner in the South. I don’t have that sorted yet. On Halloween, though, it looked a hot dog on a Sportster leading a pumpkin amongst others through downtown Savannah.