They would be more welcomed if they could turn it down a few notches.
The annual swarm of souped-up pickup trucks known as the Daytona Truck Meet has worn out its welcome much the same way Cousin Eddie does in the “Vacation” series of movies. Both arrive unannounced, behave boorishly, and generally make everyone around them miserable.
Last year, when the event was held at the taxpayer-subsidized Ocean Center, Volusia County officials received such an earful from residents annoyed at gridlocked traffic, tire burnouts, black clouds of exhaust, ear-splitting horns, public urination, and empty beer cans littering roadsides and private property, that the county vowed never to host it there again.
That removed the county’s involvement, but didn’t address the other issues. That’s because trucks aren’t confined to one site. Drivers like to parade their vehicles up and down main thoroughfares, on the beachside and elsewhere, causing problems wherever they go.
(READ: Daytona police write 2,000 tickets during truck meet)
This year the truck meet, which its organizers called the “largest in the country,” returned to a different, privately owned venue: the Daytona International Speedway. And although Speedway spokesman Andrew Booth told The News-Journal’s Jim Abbott that “we experienced no significant issues,” that disregarded what was happening outside the fences.
For instance, traffic Saturday at the intersection of Williamson Boulevard and International Speedway Boulevard was constantly backed up. As with last year’s monster truck rally, many hoteliers complained about drivers and passengers being obnoxious and verbally abusive to staff and guests, which is bad for business.
At least law enforcement was better prepared for it this year. Daytona Beach police cracked down, issuing 2,151 citations Thursday through Sunday, a 381 percent increase over the 447 tickets that were handed out during last year’s truck meet. The DBPD also made 77 arrests over the weekend (13 felony charges and 64 misdemeanors). Several truckers complained on social media about being unfairly targeted for relatively minor infractions, but they earned the extra scrutiny.
Whether it’s enough to discourage them from coming back next year remains to be seen. One can only hope.
Daytona Beach doesn’t have the same problems with Bike Week and Biketoberfest, nor with Jeep Beach, which in April held its 15th annual event without fuss or furor. Part of that may be because the public is made aware in advance when and where those events will be held so they can plan accordingly, whereas the monster trucks seemingly just showed up last weekend (when local high schools were holding graduation ceremonies, to boot) and caught many residents off guard.
But the biggest difference is seen in the conduct of the participants. Bikers and Jeepers generally behave more civilly than many of the truckers do. The latter would be more welcomed if they could turn it down a few notches.
Supporters of Daytona Truck Meet argue it brings money to local tourist coffers. However, as with Spring Break during its heyday here, the headaches it generates — which include long-term damage to the local “brand” — outweigh any weekend financial benefits.
The MTV-fueled Spring Break bedlam of the late 1980s eventually triggered collective action to apply the brakes. A similar effort is needed to tame the truck meet.
You can’t keep the customized vehicles from coming. Enthusiasts can plan a meet-up on social media, and they have just as much a right as anyone to lawfully cruise up and down A1A, ISB and elsewhere. However, the Speedway and other potential venues can be responsible community members and decline to host the events. That might put a lid on how many show up, and thus make it more manageable.