This past weekend, the North American International Motorcycle Supershow went off with all the brashness of a 1000cc V-Twin. It was big, loud and unapologetically unrefined.
And it was all new to me.
The Consumerism of a Consumer Show
The Supershow is the largest motorcycle consumer event on the continent. Full stop.
Of course, clever folks will have noticed the operative word here: consumer . This is no trade show. There aren't any manufacturers to showcase a handful of new models, nor suave engineers to give fancy, well-measured speeches.
Rather, the Supershow is put on by the local dealers – by motorcycle salesmen, gear retailers, driving schools, sausage vendors and a million other interested parties. And they’re going to yell at you to sit on, try on or munch on something. And, of course, to buy something.
Everything is for sale at the Motorcycle Supershow | Charlotte Kluftinger Photography
The Supershow is a dynamic environment, and attendees are encouraged to get involved.
In fact, I sometimes got the impression that the show was as much for the consumers as it was by the consumers. It was nice to kick a few tires on the new Kawasaki, but I had just as much fun watching a cheapo biker attempt to haggle 3000 bucks off the price tag.
The Scope of the Supershow
Apart from physical size, the Supershow is also large in scope . Over 1000 motorcycles were wheeled into Toronto’s International Centre, and they spanned every possible genre. Within a few paces, you might wander between new bikes, used bikes, dirt bikes, race bikes, custom bikes, trials bikes and antique motorcycles that looked a lot like – well – bikes.
It’s whiplash-inducing, and it’s awesome.
At the Supershow, cruiser riders have no choice but to ogle a sport bike now and then, and racers can’t help but stare at a few customs. Everybody gets lost in the labyrinth, and everybody finds themselves beyond their comfort zone.
This widens our perceptions until they overlap and find common ground. And I love that.
The Chaos of the Supershow
The trick to the Supershow is embracing the chaos. Anyone looking for an orderly browsing experience will end up as a frustrated fetal ball before noon. You want to go with the flow. And to do that, you have to keep moving.
Meat! Because you never know what to expect from the Motorcycle Supershow | Charlotte Kluftinger Photography
I learned that waiting for your turn on a shiny new Honda doesn't make much sense, because another dealer has probably set up the same bike a few yards away.
When it comes to 2015's most celebrated bikes, however, it's best not to get your hopes too high. Even the event producers could have used this advice. Programs were handed to every attendee last weekend, and all of them had the Kawasaki H2 plastered across the front cover. It would have been a great choice too, except for that the Kawasaki dealers failed to bring any.
And while the Supershow was a bit lacking in the bikes I expected to see, there were plenty of unexpected sights in their stead. Over the course of an hour, I found insurance brokers, butchers, hang gliders, foot doctors, high-flow showerhead salesmen and a partridge in a pear tree. As it would seem, any remotely relevant company could vie for space on the floor.
So the Supershow is a tad chaotic. But it’s a beautiful chaos.
Filling Your Tank at the Motorcycle Supershow
Despite the great variety of motorcycles, there wasn't much choice when it came to food. You could have pizza, hamburgers or hot dogs. And for the adventurous eater, there was hamburger pizza or pizza-flavored hot dogs.
Want a salad? Too bad. Have an allergy? Better bring the EpiPen.
Of course, there were little novelties like cotton candy and beer nuts too. You can decide for yourself if this counts as “food.”
Nonetheless, I got the sense that the bikers weren't upset about it. Four consecutive pizza joints stayed slammed all day, while a single smoothie booth got about as much attention as the geeky kid at a school dance.
A Few Forgivable Offenses from the Motorcycle Supershow
The Motorcycle Supershow had several small stages - all of which were a joke. First of all, the show schedule was written in such small and crappy writing that even the presenters couldn't read it. Award ceremonies went largely unnoticed, and bands came and went with the quiet disorder of an open-mic night.
If you wanted to see any of the presentations (which almost no one did), there was only standing room for about 30 cuddly adults. And bikers don’t normally like to get cuddly.
As far as layout is concerned, some semblance of directional guidance wouldn't go amiss. For any given walkway, there were people moving in all 360 directions at once. And inevitably, several head-on collisions occurred anytime a showgirl was nearby.
In the photos from previous years, walkways were designed to look like two-lane roads. That seems like a brilliant idea for facilitating uniform motion. I hope they bring it back.
The bounty from a day's work at the Motorcycle Supershow
I left the Supershow with an event bag full of flyers, wet-wipes, thermal packs, hot sauce, business cards, phone numbers and magazines. And that sums it up pretty well.
The Motorcycle Supershow is a mixed-bag event.
But perhaps more than that, it’s a social event. Last weekend, Toronto’s International Centre was a place for meeting old friends, and for making new ones. It was the kind of place that people bring lawn chairs and coolers to - sitting around in a circle drinking suspicious-looking “iced tea.”
And, it was the kind of place where two burly bikers – recognizing one another from across the hall – would run into each other’s open arms like lovers from an unusual rom-com.
The Motorcycle Supershow is not a well-defined event. It's more of an organic manifestation of the motorcycling community en masse .
Maybe I don’t know exactly what to make of that. But I’ll definitely be there next year. With a few lawn chairs and some “iced tea” in hand, this time.