Pics from Debby V
what a great time! Here are a few pics and I will try to send a video     Frost

Left To Right
Chopper Chip, Pirate & Turtle, Capt. Scotty, 
Gorilla Joe & Connie, Chickenman,  DonV,  J.O.
Commander Sal Barone, Brother John, Scrappy & Marnea, HD Gene
November 20th 2008 J.O. Batten, The Chickenman 
& DonV presented VFW Post 8719 with a check for
$1000.00 Dollars and Marine Corps League 708 with $12,000.00  and on November 21st we presented The Local  D.A.V. Chapter with $1000.00 from the Brooksville Old School Biker Rodeo.

A BIG ATA BIKER TO ALL OF YOU THAT ATTENDED 
THE 4TH Old School Biker Rodeo, TO SUPPORT THE DD-214 FOUNDATION SERVING OUR DISABLED VETERANS

Bikers Don't Exceed Noise Levels At Rodeo
Published: November 11, 2008
BROOKSVILLE - Despite concerns of excess noise and rowdy behavior, the biker rodeo held Halloween weekend on the county's eastside seems to have gone off without a hitch.Well, almost.Deputies reported a fight between two women. The victim was treated at the hospital for minor injuries. The other was charged with misdemeanor battery.There was also a complaint, lodged last week, of cussing over the loudspeaker. Code enforcement officials will look into it.Otherwise, the event that many neighbors feared would lead to trouble, was tame. It will be up to county commissioners to determine if it was tame enough to allow the organizer, Brooksville rancher Jimmy Batten, to do it again next year at his 40-acre ranch at 27151 Soult Road.On both nights of the event, Code Enforcement Director Mark Caskie said he was stationed along Soult Road and Wildflower Drive — close to the activities.Caskie said he took decibel readings and at no time did the noise from the rodeo exceed county ordinances.Zoning Administrator Gary Fisher said he drove the area the Monday after the event to see if rodeo organizers cleaned up after themselves.Fisher said the only thing he saw on the side of the road was a discarded fast food cup.
He said he did get one complaint last week from a man who lives off Soult Road who reported profanity blaring over the loudspeaker.At this late date, it would be hard to gather evidence, said Fisher, who turned the complaint over to code enforcement.Fisher said he will put together a report on the rodeo and submit it to county commissioners early in 2009.
The adults-only event was promoted as an "Old School Biker Rodeo," with motorcycle games, food and beer. Batten said he raised $14,000 to $15,000 for local disabled veterans.Batten said he expects a "good report card" from county commissioners so he can hold another rodeo in May.Batten hired 12 men from Leesburg to handle internal security and there were two off-duty deputies for crowd control. There were more than 2,000 people there for the weekend, he said.
He said he was careful to check identification at the gate so minors were restricted access.Contrary to reports of public nudity at past rodeos, participants kept their clothes on, he said. Except for two women, who took off their tops, he said. However, both women were body-painted and "you couldn't see anything," Batten said.The games taught motorcycle safety and skills, he said.For example, in one game, bikers had to push a beer keg 50 feet over a course to hone their maneuverability skills.
Dozens of residents showed up at a county commission meeting in September to complain about past biker rodeos and asked the board to take special precautions.Commissioners approved a conditional use permit but, to play it safe, asked for tight security measures and crowd control.The board also asked staff to draft a follow-up report to determine whether noise ordinances were followed.     Reporter Michael D. Bates can be reached at 352-544-5290 or mbates@hernandotoday.com.

Newspaper Story By a NON-BIKER Reporter  DANIEL WALLACE St. Pete Times

Considering I arrived at the Old School Biker Rodeo Saturday afternoon in a Ford Focus, it's probably no surprise I didn't like everything I saw there. I've never been one for ogling internal combustion machines or accessories like chrome pipes and leather saddlebags. The Confederate paraphernalia irritated me so much that when I saw a battle flag embroidered on a leather vest over the slogan "Try burning this one, a--hole,'' I was tempted. When I watched the so-called rodeo event of women biting dangling hot dogs while riding on the back of slow-rolling Harley-Davidsons, I wondered what the fun was in that. It seemed even less fun for the women involved, and more humiliating, when I realized there were people in the audience like Don Thomas, 51, a self-described "real biker'' from Hudson. "She's telling you the straight-a-- truth,'' Thomas said, nodding toward his wife. "My bike comes way before she does. She don't get nothing until my bike's taken care of. ''Not that the bikers will or should care what I think, but there was some stuff I did like: Camping under oaks, friends sharing drinks while Bad Company's Rock Steady floated through campfire smoke — and that the beer concession and $10 admission fee (from about 2,000 bikers) went to disabled veterans. I started to understand the biker spirit when I talked to Billy Peak, 56, about his 1975 Norton Commando — one of the last built by the original English manufacturer — and the pleasure of taking it on a three-month tour around the country last year. I liked that Robert Bushee, 69, could ride a bright-blue Honda three-wheeler and be associated with a group of Alcoholics Anonymous bikers called Mean and Clean, and spend the weekend without getting grief from more hard-core bikers. Though by no means endorsing its priorities, I was also glad to see this old culture hadn't been completely overwhelmed by brand-hunting consumers who buy Harleys for the thrill of parking them next to their Winnebago's. Thomas, for example, who looked at me though bloodshot eyes and over a chest-length beard, pulled up his pant leg to reveal a leg so mangled and swollen by an accident two years ago he still has to wear a Vectored canvas medical shoe. "The real biker — you crash the son of a b----, you pick it up and you get back on it,'' he said. Jimmy Batten, 62, the rodeo's organizer, has probably provided our newspaper with more colorful copy over the past 20 years than anyone else in the county. We've written about him as one of Hernando's "last true-blue cowboy ranchers,'' as a County Commission candidate, as a guest on a Paris Hilton reality show, and as the impresario of dove shoots, more conventional rodeos and mud-bogging events. But, in the past, I've wondered about his casual approach to the safety of, for example, 18-year-old bull-riders and toddlers playing in the same mud pool as the monster trucks. Saturday, I felt a little let down that the proud cattleman I used to know would organize an event that offered free margaritas to any woman who bared her breasts. But, again, why should he care what I think? To tell you the truth, I didn't see anyone take the margarita vendor up on his offer, and other than a few women walking around with body paint in lieu of halter tops, not much nudity at all. The Hernando County Sheriff's Office received no reports of laws being broken. Batten's 40-acre pasture east of Brooksville is, of course, private property. The neighbors said the music had been shut down at midnight Friday night. And in the nearby large-lot subdivision of Country Oak Estates on Saturday, the roar of exhaust pipes registered only as a distant hum. So, what difference does it make what we think about what went on Batten's pasture?