DaytonaBitches.

It was about that feeling right before the whole crew rolls into Daytona—bikes packed, everybody buzzing, and Bike Week waiting.

One guy in the group had a habit of throwing his arms up and yelling, “DAYTONA, BITCHES!” It was half celebration, half battle cry. He called the whole motorcycle group “bitches” as a joke, and the name stuck harder than a sunburn after an oceanfront ride.

That shout still carries the whole spirit: friendship, freedom, Florida sun, and the kind of stories that get better every time the crew gets together.