EASYRIDERS

Once upon a time, in the dark ages of the pre-internet world, there was a magazine called Easyriders.

The cover of the magazine’s very first issue. From the onset, Easyriders was determined to do things differently. What other bike rag of the day would boast of featuring the ‘World’s Ugliest Trike’?
 Image courtesy the author.

Easyriders was the brainchild of several California-based riders – Lou Kimzey, Joe Teresi and Mil Blair – who dreamt of a rag for bikers, by bikers, with none of the usual mealy-mouthed product reviews, and clean-cut models posed aboard factory-fresh machines from Europe and Japan.

In their very first issue, Easyriders‘ editors proved they were following a different path than their predecessors and competitors.
 Image courtesy of eBay seller Cruzin’ for a Deal.

No, this new mag would be for hardcore bikers, patchholders and independents who lived, breathed, slept and dreamt motorcycles: preferably big American motorcycles like Harley-Davidson and Indian. The first issue trumpeted the new title as ‘For the Swinging Biker.‘ They later identified as ‘Entertainment for the Adult Biker.

The other biker rags – even the ones that claimed to be hip to choppers – weren’t covering events like this!
In fact, those other guys were more likely to be sneering than cheering. Choppers were ‘cool’ but chopper builders? Those long-haired, greasy-bearded outlaw types? Eww! 🙄
San Quentin pages courtesy of the author.

Within its pages, Easyriders featured handbuilt choppers – genuine rigid-framed, long-forked machines with psychedelic paint jobs, sky-high sissybars, glistening spokes and heavily chromed engines like the ones featured in the magazine’s namesake movie. They were laid-back, long-legged beauties – dream machines – and in the ’60s and early ’70s many a young man (your humble narrator included) lusted after them. We looked for them at custom car and motorcycle shows, built plastic models of them, pressed our noses to the windows of Dad’s station wagon whenever one rumbled past and, naturally, pored over magazines about them.

Captain America by artist Ray Drea.
A unique take on the anti-heroes of Easy Rider (1969) by artist Ray Drea.
A life-size Billy Bike, seen at the 20th Annual David Mann Memorial Chopperfest in February, 2024.
 Image courtesy of the author.
Now that’s a chopper! Also spotted at the David Mann Chopperfest.
 Image courtesy of the author.

Choppers may have been works of art, but for most builders they were much, much more. Those workhorse v-twin engines – the ones that carried police officers through city traffic, and gave Mom and Pop a breath of fresh air and outdoor life at the end of a workaday week – were broken down and rebuilt, and in the process they were blown, stroked, bored and balanced to achieve ultimate performance in flat-out style. We’re talking balls-to-the-wall, explosive power.

Editor Lou Kimzey’s knucklehead chopper appeared on the back cover of the magazine’s first issue.
 Image courtesy of eBay seller Cruzin’ for a Deal.

The bikes may have been built for cruising the highway with a chick on the p-pad and a fart sack strapped to the forks, but the engines were built for red-light racing and the quarter-mile, popping wheelies and other displays of brute acceleration. These weren’t upstart Jap scrap that whined like angry hornets, or prim European motorbikes with finely tuned suspensions and muted, throaty exhaust notes. You weren’t going to see choppers competing in Timed Trials challenges, or road-racing on the Isle of Man. They were, with few exceptions, big, loud, powerful, gas-guzzling, straight-line-balling, quintessentially American machines.

One of my favorite builds ever to appear in the magazine’s pages. The bike also appeared on an Easyriders calendar and in an anniversary issue. With its monochromatic color scheme and futuristic design, it stood out from the psychedelic dream machines most builders were crafting. So far as I know, the builder has never been identified.
The bike itself is far cleaner than anything I’d feel comfortable owning, but the detail is mind-boggling. This bike also gave me a low-level craving, as yet unfulfilled, to build a chopper on a single-loop frame.
The Mystery Sled also gave me a new appreciation for Morris Mags – beautiful wheels! – and the process of cleaning engine parts known as ‘bead blasting’. When I first went to work at Bud’s Motorcycle Shop in Austin, in 1979, I spent many an hour with my hands up to my shoulders in the glass-beading machine. I still love the soft grey finish the process leaves behind on aluminum and alloy parts.
 Mystery Sled images courtesy of the author.

Easyriders was the first biker lifestyle magazine to make it beyond a handful of issues, and reach a national (and later international) readership. Others, like Colors, produced by East Coast biker Phil Castle, and the California-based Choppers, created by signman-turned-customizer Ed ‘Big Daddy’ Roth, were short-lived and regional. You weren’t going to find issues of those magazines on the rack at your local 7-11 store, and by 1971 both had gone out of print.

Choppers experienced a comeback of sorts in 2018, when fan Cary Brobeck secured rights to the title from Ed Roth’s heirs. The new Choppers hit newsstands in April of 2019, and is still in production as of this writing, January 2025.
 Image sourced from the internet.

Easyriders, on the other hand, endured, in part because it was so much more than just shiny paint and polished chrome plating. The magazine swiftly became the big dog on the block, its readership dwarfing titles like Big Bike, Custom Bike, Street Chopper and Supercycle, because Easyriders went farther than any of those titles dared. The rag truly wasentertainment for the adult biker’.

A typical Easyriders cover in the early days: a gal you could believe knew her way around a pillion pad, maybe a tattooed biker and his motorcycle, and a few tantalizing teasers for what’s inside.
 
Image courtesy of eBay seller pqu698.

For starters, Easyriders had bare-breasted models draped over choppers or curled up against the bikes’ owners: real biker women – often the bike owner’s ol’ lady – with tattoos, pimples and other ‘flaws’, showing more skin than other bike rags would dare.

A typical photograph from the magazine’s early days.
 
Image sourced from internet.

They also began a feature (copied from Big Bike, a title editor Lou Kimzey created and edited prior to joining forces with Joe Teresi and Mil Blair) called the Ol’ Lady Contest, in which women (or their proud significant others) could submit photographs for the chance to win cash and prizes, and be named ‘Ol’ Lady of the Year’.

A ‘Ol’ Lady Contest’ in the magazine’s February 1983 issue.
 
Image courtesy of author.

Later, in a barely-perceptible nod to gender equity, they began including small (usually one- or two-page) spreads on bikes owned and built by women, titled Foxy Riders.

A ‘Foxy Rider’ gets her motorcycle featured in the magazine in June 1988.
 
Image courtesy of author.
Spider’s column fronted the magazine for decades, sharing humorous stories and factoids like those shown above. Note that political correctness was not a concern. At times, misogyny and subtle racism permeated the magazine’s editorial content. Homophobia and transphobia were constants.
 Image courtesy of author.

There was also Spider’s Leg-Wetting Facts column (later renamed Taking It Easy, as shown above) that featured humorous factoids and anecdotes culled from the mainstream press and other bike rags. Farther back in the magazine were pages of jokes, too, usually submitted by readers.

Miraculous Mutha as envisioned by Easyriders cartoonist Hal Robinson, and identified on the magazine’s masthead as ‘Resident Nympho’. Some of the other job titles are just as outrageous!
 Images sourced from internet.

Miraculous Mutha, depicted above, purported to be an overweight, disease-riddled ‘mama’, doling out advice to the lovelorn and wayward in Miraculous Mutha Tells All, below. Her responses to readers’ letters were frequently lewd, lascivious, and more than a little perverse. Readers loved her!

If you’re not offended or repelled, you’re not paying attention!
Image courtesy of author.

On a more serious note….

A Tribute to Brothers Lost and Male Call were just two of the ways the magazine attempted to foster community in the biker world.
Image courtesy of author.

In the magazine’s back pages, one feature allowed bikers to offer up A Tribute to Brothers Lost, while a separate feature titled Male Call helped incarcerated bikers hook up with pen-pals and potential post-release lovers. Another page of classifieds called Choppershopper let bikers reconnect with brothers, announce events, clear potential club names for conflicts, and trade and sell motorcycle parts.

Choppershopper from Easyriders # 118, February 1983.
Image courtesy of author.
Asstrology, word games and other amusements made random appearances.
 
Image courtesy of author.

An Asstrology column made random appearances, along with word games, crossword puzzles and the like. Easyriders also ran an occasional Downtime column with reviews of new music, books and movies of interest to bikers. Finally, there were letters to the editors: some poignant, some profane, some laugh-out-loud funny. The editors’ often-acerbic replies were often even funnier.

Letters to the editors were handled by Wordmonger, who must have had some fun sorting through the piles of mail the magazine received.
Image courtesy of the author.
Tech tips might include a write-up on Harley-Davidson’s recently released five-speed transmission, and increased visibility for traffic safety. Others might include recipes for marijuana meals. Easyriders also featured updates on political issues of interest to bikers, like what the eggheads at the U.S. Department of Transportation might be up to.
 Image courtesy of eBay seller pqu698.

Easyriders also featured tech tips. Some were useful articles about motorcycles: how to decide what rake you needed for your chopper, or tune a Mikuni carburetor, or how to decipher Harley-Davidson’s Byzantine numbering system, so aspirant chopper builders could determine what year and model engine they were looking at when shopping for the Big Twin or Sportster engine of their dreams. Experienced bikers knew that a dodgy set of numbers could result in confiscation of the rider’s motorcycle by police. Rest assured, if the cops took your bike, you lost everything connected to it, even if you had receipts for every nut and bolt!

David Duke, the man who was going to mainstream racism with his ‘new and improved’ KKK, went on to win a seat in the Louisiana House of Representatives and make several runs for higher office, including Governor of Louisiana and President of the United States. After several unsuccessful campaigns, he dropped all pretense of civility and came out as a neo-Nazi. He also pleaded guilty to fraud charges in 2002, which netted him a fifteen-month sentence in a federal prison. He is reportedly still spewing his bile. Unfortunately, Easyriders recognized and exploited the fact that a large percentage of hardcore bikers adhere to racist and fascist ideologies.  
 
Image courtesy of eBay seller pqu698.

There were also handy ‘tech tips’ on how to conceal weapons, drugs and other contraband, grow marijuana and make prison tattoo machines, alongside interviews with controversial characters like Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke. These articles – and adverts for White Power t-shirts, swastika belt buckles and devices for smoking leafy products 😏 whilst riding your machine – were gradually phased out when prison and military censors began banning the magazine. Because so many bikers were in prison or serving in the military, the publishers of Easyriders went to great lengths to be sure the magazine was available to all, even offering free subscriptions to prison libraries.

A typical cover from January, 1982. Note the featured articles include a ‘how to’ on making contraband prison tattoo machines.
 Image courtesy of eBay seller pqu698.

In a regular feature titled Easynews, the magazine also included political news relevant to bikers: the progress of helmet laws and other anti-biker legislation, R.I.C.O. 1 prosecutions of Hells Angels members and other outrages. When ‘safetycrats’ in Washington used federal highway funds to blackmail states into enacting mandatory helmet laws, Easyriders and A.B.A.T.E. 2, the homegrown Motorcycle Rights Organization (MRO) the editors created, led the fight against the mandates.

Easynews was a regular feature.
Image courtesy of author.

Through the 1970s, ’80s and ’90s there was a push-and-pull contest between pro- and anti-helmet law factions, which resulted in a patchwork quilt of requirements across the nation. One state might mandate helmets for all riders, while another only required them for riders under the age of twenty-one, or eighteen, or on machines over a certain engine size. To obfuscate the issue even more, in later years a wave of bills across the nation permitted riders to doff their helmets if they carried a certain amount of health insurance, which would cover them in the event of a motorcycle crash. Enforcement was unsustainable, and those states effectively became free choice states again.

In the late ’90s, with passage of an insurance exemption bill as described above, Texas offered a Helmet Exemption sticker for those riders who carried proof of the requisite health insurance. It was optional, cost about $5 if I recall, and did not guarantee LEOs wouldn’t stop you for riding sans helmet anyway. The sticker program was eliminated in 2009.

But helmet laws weren’t the only issues facing riders. Some states attacked the ‘chopper lifestyle’ by mandating seat and handlebar heights, chain guards and front fenders, full-length rear fenders, turn signals, restrictive mufflers and more.

A motorcycle like my shovelhead could earn me a ‘seat too low’ ticket in certain jurisdictions, because I ran a frame-mounted butt bucket saddle on that low-slung OEM rigid wishbone frame. I never ran the sky-high apehangers some riders opted for, but my ‘baby apes’ were probably tall enough to get me ticketed in some states, and I have twice been ticketed for ‘exhaust too loud’. On both occasions I had brand new mufflers recently installed on my bike.

The low-slung frame-mounted butt-bucket saddle that would have earned me a ticket in places like Florida, and the brand-new exhaust system that garnered me an ‘exhaust too loud’ ticket in Bell County, Texas. The state trooper who wrote me up (after slowing down and forcing me to pass him) rubbed salt in the wound by claiming his dirt bike was quieter than my muffled Harley. I’d bet dollars to donuts that was a bald-faced lie!
 Photograph courtesy of the author.

Elsewhere, motorcyclists were being profiled by law enforcement officers – stopped and treated like armed-and-dangerous felons solely for being bikers – and businesses were discriminating against riders, with ‘no motorcycle attire’, ‘no club colors’ and ‘no motorcycle parking in lot’ signs popping up at bars, restaurants and other premises.

I recall a run from Austin to Lake Buchanan, in a pack of thirty or so bikes. We stopped at a roadhouse in rural Burnet County for lunch. As we were leaving, we found ourselves surrounded by law enforcement of all stripes – local police, county sheriff’s deputies and state troopers – with weapons drawn as they confronted us. We were put through the mill. License, registration and vehicle identification numbers were slowly and laboriously checked via radio, one at a time, to drag the process out. Bikes were searched and riders questioned as we sweltered in the blistering sun for over an hour – and the sum total of their efforts was one (1) arrest for an outstanding traffic warrant!

My shovel and I outside the Burnet County roadhouse where we were held at gunpoint by LEOs from every available agency. There were local yokels, county mounties, smokies… all armed with shotguns, hunting rifles and AR-15s. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to learn the local dog catcher and building inspector were out there, getting in on the action!
 Photograph courtesy of the author.
NO COLORS ALLOWED…. but those young men seem to disagree with the sentiment. Hmm…. 😏 This photo appeared in Easyriders # 79, January 1980. Note the poem by Jody Via at right, and then see my footnote on him at the end of this post.
Image courtesy of eBay seller Vintage Variety 60.

In another instance, I was attending a bachelor’s party for a friend. Despite the fact that we were all sober riders, he wanted his party to include a tour of the topless bars around Waco, Texas.

The evening began with an excursion to a dive outside the city limits, with fully nude dancers. The first thing I saw, as we entered the bar, was a drunk crashing to the floor after leaning his chair back too far, and the naked teenager on stage raising her hands in fright, screaming ‘I never touched him!’

Later in the evening, we arrived at a ‘swanky gentlemen’s club’ in the city proper, and sure as hell, there was a sign saying ‘No Motorcycles in Parking Lot.’ The groom-to-be and most of our party were content to park in the lot next door, go in and carry on the festivities. Me, I do my best to avoid spending my money or time in places where I’m not wanted, so I stayed outside and rapped with the bouncers, most of whom were riders themselves!

And, for the record, there are damned few ‘gentlemen’ in those so-called ‘gentlemen’s clubs.’

David Mann’s painting titled ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ appeared in the magazine’s June 1995 issue.
Image courtesy of the author.
Larry (Rabbit) Cole was one of my favorite writers in the magazine’s best years. I have no idea what his personal history may have been, or what became of him once he stopped writing for Easyriders.

For me, one of the biggest differences between Easyriders and other magazines was that ER published short fiction about the biker lifestyle, by writers like Larry ‘Rabbit’ Cole (above) and Jody Via 3, and humor by psychotics like former Mouseketeer J.J. Solari.

One of the erstwhile Mouseketeer’s twisted ‘masterpieces’. I will post one of his longer pieces in a separate post.
Image courtesy of the author.

Some of the writing was mediocre, but most was outstanding. There was real talent on display in those pages: well-crafted stories with vivid characters and dramatic arcs worth following. Easyriders was a huge influence on me as a teenage wannabe in the early ’70s, and was still the biker rag of record when I began riding later in the decade. I take great pride in the fact that my first manuscript sales — fiction and non-fiction — were to Easyriders, and I consider Lou Kimzey my first editor and mentor in the world of writing.

This artwork (by an as-yet-unnamed artist) accompanied my short story ‘Bloodlines’, which appeared in the June 1988 issue of the magazine. More about that and other short stories in a later post.
Image courtesy of the author.

Easyriders also ran the occasional poem, usually an ode to brotherhood or a motorcycle or, less frequently, the good woman who made it all worthwhile.

A love poem by Dan Pierce from a volume of the spin-off In the Wind magazine.
 Image sourced from internet. Photo-illustration by author.
An un-love poem by Sharon Wallace in Easyriders # 185’s In the Wind section, November 1988.
Image courtesy of the author.

Notably, the magazine’s editors broke with traditional publishing practice by accepting handwritten manuscripts – unheard of in that era – because most prison inmates did not have ready access to typewriters.

Duffy Duggan’s work appeared often in the magazine’s pages, illustrating short stories and articles. Here, a hapless biker serves time in prison, a common theme for hardcore bikers.
 Image sourced from internet.

In another groundbreaking move, Easyriders made a practice of publishing motorcycle-themed illustrations and paintings by talented artists like Duffy Duggan, above, and cartoonist Hal Robinson, below.

Artist Hal Robinson could do ‘funny’ easily, but occasionally took a turn at more contemplative works like the one above, at right.
 Images sourced from internet.

Most noteworthy of these was the godfather of chopper art, David Mann, who first broke out with a series of posters painted for Ed ‘Big Daddy’ Roth of Choppers Magazine fame. Mann created his first masterpiece centerfold painting for Easyriders‘ third issue in October, 1971. The artist – the Frederic Remington of the biker world – painted large centerfold paintings for the monthly magazine, and story illustrations, even as he cranked out book covers, centerfolds and illustrations for other publications. Despite that workload, the artist produced at least one piece for every issue of Easyriders from October, 1971 until his retirement in June, 2004. David Mann passed away in September of that year, but his paintings continued to appear in Easyriders and her sister publications for years afterward.

You can learn about David Mann and see much more of his artwork here.

David Mann’s first and last paintings for Easyriders Magazine, in the October 1971 and June 2004 issues.
 Images courtesy of David Mann‘s Facebook page.

IN THE WIND

From Easyriders # 118, February 1983, the come-on to readers, to submit their photos for consideration. I can scarcely imagine the volume they received!
Image courtesy of the author.

One of Easyriders‘ more ingenious innovations was their In the Wind pages, where they offered readers cash (above) for ‘good, in-focus’ photographs of bikers at play, riding, partying, brawling or posing with their machines, and women, usually flashing their breasts for the camera.

This appeared in In the Wind #11 in 1983.
 Image courtesy of eBay seller Touched by Time Treasures.

There were often older photographs, resurrected from Grandpa’s old picture album: proud farmers and sales clerks, and their bemused sisters or girlfriends, posing with Popes, Thors and Excelsiors. There were Allied soldiers aboard strap-back Harley J-Models and WLAs, Triumphs and BSAs, and their German counterparts on BMWs and NSUs. Other pages might teem with photos submitted by readers in Europe, Asia, South America and Africa, each with their own biker subculture.

Pages of typical ‘In the Wind’ photographs from the August 1988 issue.
Image courtesy of the author.

And, of course, there were hundreds and hundreds of pics of bikers, male and female, outlaw and straight, on original or restored classics or wild-as-fuck radical customs. They were jamming down the road, hair floating in the breeze and tight grins on their faces, or scowling at the camera and flipping the universal biker salute – one raised finger – to friend and foe alike. They were drinking beer, wrestling in the mud of a campsite, or tearing a motorcycle apart beneath a tree as friends gathered to offer assistance….

Pages of typical ‘In the Wind’ photographs from the June 1988 issue.
Image courtesy of the author.

….and women, in denim and leather or not much of anything, baring their all at a rally, packing behind their ol’ man or geared up and gripping the bars of their own machines. All ages, all shapes and sizes, but most pretty and slender and lithe enough to curl up behind a man as they blast down the highway together, her feet on the high pegs of that rigid frame and her arms around her man.

What it’s all about, really, in Easyriders, June 1988.
Image courtesy of the author.

I called In the Wind ‘ingenious’ because, while the editors paid for photos they published in the magazine itself, they reserved the right to use any and all submitted photographs free of charge in a spin-off magazine called In the Wind. It featured page after page of readers’ photographs, very little editorial content, and ran through well over a hundred and fifty issues. Aside from layout and pasteup, it couldn’t have cost much to produce, and every issue sold by the tens of thousands.

These appeared in Easyriders # 118 in February 1983 ‘In the Wind’ pages.
Image courtesy of the author.

I submitted a number of photos to the magazine’s for-pay column, but only ever saw them in later issues of In the Wind.

One of my many submissions to the magazine’s ‘In the Wind’ pages: a shot from one of the ABATE Texas annual members’ rallies. Several showed up in the spin-off publication, but none made the paid-for pages in the magazine itself. 😡
 Image courtesy of the author.

EXPANSION

Iron Horse featured bikers and babes just as down-to-earth as Easyriders, but with a more inclusive flair.
 Image courtesy of eBay sellers Gallimore’s Goods.

Realizing that they had a good thing going, Easyriders‘ parent corporation, Paisano Publications, soon sought to expand the brand into a world-wide empire. First came the In the Wind magazines. These were followed by Iron Horse, a magazine more dedicated to metric riders. Still the same hard-partying, hard-riding biker ethos, but with more Triumphs and Hondas than Harleys and Indians.

Paisano Publications‘ burgeoning publishing empire featured created titles like In the Wind, American Rodder and Iron Horse, and acquired titles like Tattoo and Biker.
Image courtesy of the author.

Later, we saw titles like Tattoo, which cashed in on (and helped fuel) the passion for skin art sweeping the nation in the ’90s and ’00s. Another spin-off magazine was V-Twin, intended as a ‘family friendly’ version of Easyriders. No topless women, fewer four-letter words…. 🙄 Worse still was VQ, a magazine ‘for the connoisseur.’ 🤢

Image courtesy of eBay sellers Gallimore’s Goods.
Adverts for a number of Paisano Publications titles, including Easyriders, Biker, In the Wind, the aforementioned VQ, Tattoo and Quick Throttle. On the opposite page, a pitch for Easyriders store franchises. For reference, the $500K investment listed would be the equivalent of about $1 million today.
Image courtesy of the author.

Other cash cows turned up. There were Easyriders products like t-shirts, hats and scarves, which grew into a full-sized catalog insert in the magazine every Christmas season. Then came brick-and-mortar Easyriders stores – franchised outlets as advertised above – that sold clothing and custom parts. Some even tried to be full-service motorcycle shops, with bikes for sale and mechanics on duty.

An Easyriders Store as envisioned by artist David Mann.
 Image courtesy of the author.

Then there were the Easyriders Rodeos and other events: a series of prepackaged biker parties – mini-rallies, really – at venues around the country. These events were heavily sponsored by corporations like Custom Chrome, Chrome Specialties, Barnett and others, all purveyors of parts and equipment for Harley riders. At the rodeos, there were diversions like burnout contests, barstool races, poker runs, girly shows and live music, wedged in between the ceaseless marketing of products by Easyriders and its sponsors.

Artist David Mann did numerous adverts for the rodeo series.
  Image courtesy of the author.
Just a few of the diversions to be seen at the rodeos.
 Photos courtesy of Easyriders Events.
Those of us who were fans and collectors of David Mann‘s art were pissed that some of his monthly centerfold paintings were nothing more than advertisements for Easyriders events like the rodeo….
….or an Easyriders Invitational Bike Show. We didn’t appreciate seeing our favorite artist pimped out this way.
  Centerfold images courtesy of the author.
Adverts for upcoming Easyriders Rodeo events in Easyriders (June 1988) and Biker Parties (Summer 1998). I’ve done some event production and coordinating, and that slate at right looks like a damned grueling schedule.
Image courtesy of the author.

DEATH OF THE DREAM

Some say it was overreaching that killed Easyriders, but I have a different theory.

For decades, Easyriders remained the ‘biker rag of record’, in part because it was as ‘biker’ as any of its readers: tough, take-no-bullshit and ready to rock. However, that brutal bastard, time, and the harsh realities of print publishing eventually took their toll.

The first advert for Harley-Davidson appeared in the magazine’s April 1978 issue
Image courtesy of the author.

For instance: at its onset, the magazine’s editors swore they would never be beholden to any corporate master, and hence would never accept advertising from the Harley-Davidson Motor Company or its dealers. They held out for seven years, but ultimately the money was too good.

However, three issues later, the MoCo had a change of heart. They yanked their full-page advert at the last moment. Easyriders‘ editors responded with the black box page above.
Image courtesy of the author.

They also vowed they would never do new bike reviews or test rides. They eventually did….

 However, a few years later, both sides had become more ‘accommodating’, and HD adverts were a regular feature. In fact, as seen here in the November 1988 issue, they were actually cozying up to Spider’s politically incorrect Taking It Easy column!
 Image courtesy of the author.

Very few magazines can survive on subscriptions alone. The money had to come from somewhere. I’m sure the magazine’s publisher shrugged and said ‘Well, why not the MoCo?’ 🤷🏻‍♀️

This appeared in the Easyriders issue of June 1988. Not only was it an advert for the Harley-Davidson Motor Company, but the ad features a fully dressed ‘bagger’ and rows of neatly uniformed club members, looking like motorcycle patrol officers! 😮 That’s a loooooong way from the chopper esthetic and hardcore biker ‘tude the magazine touted in early years.
Image courtesy of the author.

The Motor Company has offered riding gear from its earliest days, but when AMF (American Machine & Foundry, best known as the primary outfitter for bowling alleys) merged with Harley-Davidson in 1969, more effort was made to market ‘stylish’ clothing. Imagine leisure suits of sky-blue suede (seriously!) and his-and-hers t-shirts and jackets. When the two companies split again in 1981, marketing began in earnest, and Motorclothes was born. Old-school riders grouse that Harley dealerships look more like fashion boutiques nowadays. A common plaint is They used to hate us. Now they want to BE us!

They’re not wrong.

During the AMF years, Harley-Davidson struggled to counter the outlaw persona many street bikers affected: the long hair, beards and tattoos, black t-shirts, ragged jeans and greasy leather. Dealers refused to serve ‘chopper riders’ or work on modified motorcycles, and corporate headquarters demanded that dealers spruce up their premises and run off the undesirable Easyriders element. Austin’s own Austin Motorcycle Company, a family-owned franchise since the 1920s, surrendered its franchise in the late ’70s rather than comply with the Motor Company’s demands.

Austin Motorcycle Company, Austin’s premiere Harley-Davidson dealership, fell victim to corporate paternalism when owner Dan James (no relation, sadly) refused to upgrade his dusty old shop in the heart of downtown, or run off the ‘disreputable element’ that formed his customer base. Killeen auto dealer Ace Connell picked up the franchise Dan dropped, and a new, more-palatable dealership was opened on the city’s north side. Austin Motorcycle Company puttered along as an independent shop until Dan passed away in 1980. Two of his employees attempted to keep the shop going after Dan died, but soon moved on to other pursuits, and the shop faded into history.
 Image sourced from internet.
An advert for Harley-Davidson’s own clothing line, appropriately titled Motorclothes.
Image courtesy of eBay seller Vintage Variety 60.

However, the MoCo’s new owners – most former executives of the AMF-owned division – recognized a cash cow when they saw one, and Motorclothes stores and catalogs were soon teeming with fashions aping the look of those hardcore bikers HD once shunned. Witness their willingness to have their advert placed right beside Spider’s crude, frequently misogynistic column.

A Harley-Davidson advertisement for their ‘Harley Owner’s Group’ – a ‘motorcycle club’ with no membership requirements other than a wallet fat enough to afford a Harley-Davidson motorcycle – in the July 1983 issue. If you recall, the magazine started out catering to members of actual motorcycle clubs. They may as well have been peddling Sons of Anarchy fanwear!
 Image courtesy of eBay seller M&M Media and More.

….but it was the publishers’ abandonment of the outlaw ethos upon which the magazine was founded (see Harley Owner’s Group advert, above, for example) that hurt the magazine the most. Gone were the grungy patchholders and those generous four-page features on the radical chopper some hardworking Harley lover crafted in a drafty garage with nothing but sheet metal, a crackerbox welder, swapmeet parts and bleeding knuckles.

That ain’t no chopper, baby! Worse still, look at the spec sheet below. The owner hired out every aspect of the work on the thing. 🙄 This appeared in Easyriders # 181, in July 1988.
Images courtesy of the author.

In their place were Harley owners posing with made-to-order machines (see above) that they’d purchased in a shop and paid someone else to customize: ‘RUBs’ and ‘Rolex Riders’ who wouldn’t be caught dead mingling with the street bikers who made the magazine what it was. Builders like Arlen Ness and Rick Doss and pseudo-clubs like the Hamsters were given loads of press, with photos and glowing articles. Meanwhile, old school builders’ efforts were relegated to a tiny spread titled ‘Readers’ Rides’. No one seemed to remember or care that, back in the day, featured bikes were all ‘Readers Rides’! 🙄

A ‘Reader’s Ride’ from Easyriders, July 1988
Image courtesy of the author.

Gone, too, were the women we loved: those hardcore biker gals and dewy-eyed fender bunnies who brightened the pages of every issue. They were replaced by polished, airbrushed professional models who had obviously never been near a motorcycle until the photographer hired them for a shoot. These were women wearing too much makeup, ridiculous high heels that had no place in the rough-and-tumble biker’s world, and…. and…. they just weren’t our people. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Compare this cover, from 2004, to the covers of earlier issues, circa 1970s and ’80s. A little ‘different’, yes?
 Image courtesy of eBay sellers Gallimore’s Goods.

Easyriders went under in 2019, after almost a half-century in print. As noted above, its quality and integrity had waned considerably in its final decades, even as print publications in general were hemorrhaging readership, so few longtime adherents mourn its passing. However, an upscale clothier has acquired and is attempting to revive the title as a ‘less trashy’ and ‘more inclusive’ publication. Some wag described it as ‘GQ for Bikers,’ but I think Easyriders beat them to the punch with VQ. 🙄

I’ve only seen two issues of the ‘new’ Easyriders and am thus far not impressed. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Original since 1970? 😮 I don’t think so! That’s like Indian claiming they are ‘the oldest American motorcycle manufacturer’. The revivalists — Indian and Easyriders alike — bought a name and nothing more. No lineage connects either venture to the originals, and it annoys me to no end when they cavalierly claim lineage and longevity they have not earned.
 Image sourced from internet.

FOOTNOTES

1) R.I.C.O. (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act of 1970) was written for use against organized crime outfits like the Mafia, but prosecutors quickly realized it had implications far beyond that narrow aim.

For instance, federal prosecutors used R.I.C.O. to go after board members deemed responsible for the Savings and Loans crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s. One unique feature of R.I.C.O. was that it permitted civil as well as criminal prosecutions. Civil trials require a less stringent burden of proof than criminal trials and, with R.I.C.O., prosecutors could seek triple the estimated damages of any violation. Hapless board members of S&Ls found themselves in court, targeted not because they were guilty but because they had the deepest pockets.

R.I.C.O. was also used to prosecute Hells Angel spokesman Sonny Barger and other members of the Oakland HAMC chapter. However, the fed’s case collapsed when they were unable to prove a ‘pattern of behavior’, or link the alleged illegalities to club policy. Barger, et alia, walked free, leaving prosecutors red-faced, frustrated and bitter.

Sonny Barger around the time of the R.I.C.O. prosecution. He dodged the R.I.C.O. case, but did time for other offenses. He emerged from prison even more a celebrity than when he went in, and turned to cashing in on his notoriety with books, a movie, and public appearances around the world.
 Photo courtesy of the author, from Supercycle Magazine‘s interview with Barger.

2) A.B.A.T.E. was alternately styled ‘American Bikers Against Totalitarian Enactments’ or ‘American Bikers Aiming Toward Education’. Both monikers applied. The group did fight against mandatory helmet laws, and laws restricting the customization of motorcycles, as numerous states enacted laws regulating seat and handlebar heights, requiring chain guards and front fenders, even mandating the length of rear fenders and the height of sissybars.

However, the group also fought for motorcycle rider education, to train new riders in street survival skills, and driver awareness campaigns to make motorists more aware of (and, it was to be hoped, more respectful of) motorcyclists in traffic.

I acted as State Awareness and Safety Coordinator for A.B.A.T.E. of Texas. In that capacity, I developed and spearheaded a statewide billboard campaign, and helped promote a tripart Safety and Awareness Rally which gathered motorcyclists together in three cities across Texas, to raise awareness of our cause. As a state officer for A.B.A.T.E., I was also involved in efforts to bring mandatory rider education to the state, and create a statewide training program for novice cyclists and the instructors who would train them. In my spare time 😆 I also edited the group’s newspaper, and designed a number of popular fundraising t-shirts.

Our billboard campaign, using no-cost or low-cost Public Service Announcement space provided by billboard companies like Duplex Advertising Company of Temple. Left to right, from top left: a) State Director of ABATE Texas, H.E. ‘Sundance’ Mitchell, at the press conference we held at the site of our very first billboard. b) Your humble narrator speaking at an ABATE State Members’ Rally in Llano, Texas. c) The stage at Llano, backstopped by one of our new full-color billboard posters. d) Our second billboard, on US Highway 190 west of Belton, Texas. e) Our first billboard location, on IH35 in Temple, Texas. f) It didn’t take long for the Texas Department of Public Safety‘s Motorcycle Safety Bureau to horn in on the act, stealing our headline and the billboard space we’d previously occupied.
 
Photographs courtesy of the author.
A Jody Via short story from Easyriders # 181, July 1988. Not his usual crime story as referenced below; just a quick yarn about a good ol’ fashioned beer-joint punch-up between two bikers and a room full of rednecks. Tropes and stereotypes ooze off the page. The bikers are brave, take-no-shit nomads: strangers until the fist started flying but brothers in arms in the heat of battle. They are, of course, outnumbered three-to-one, standing back to back against all odds, and the simple-minded, bigoted rednecks who were all bark and no bite. Here Via was simply tapping into the romanticized vision most Easyriders readers held of themselves. They were knights errant, living out the celluloid dreams of Easy Rider and Then Came Bronson in between shifts at the factory or feedlot where they earned their living.
Image courtesy of the author.

3) In researching this article, in a deep dive search for some of my favorite Easyriders writers, I unearthed the tragic tale of Jody Via. Jody was one of my faves from back in the day, capable of fashioning darkly compelling crime yarns from bolts of whole cloth….

….except that, per police, Via’s ‘yarns’ weren’t fiction at all. They say he was effectively recounting crimes he himself had committed during a murderous spree across Pennsylvania and Ohio in September, 1972, and selling them for publication!

First, we have Good Samaritan Harry Hoffman. Mr. Hoffman was a kindly gas station owner who stopped to help what appeared to be a young couple stranded at roadside. Hoffman took them back to his service station, and even made a fresh pot of coffee so they could warm up from the chill night air. For his troubles, Mr. Hoffman was bound, shot in the head and left for dead in the back room of his service station. He survived, and later identified his attacker in court.

Next, we have nineteen-year-old college student Jane Maguire, who fell for Via’s ‘stranded’ ruse and offered him a ride. Her body was discovered in a highway rest area. She had been raped, bound, shot in the head and left for dead. Sadly, Ms. Maguire did not survive.

Larry ‘Jody’ Via after arrest in 1972, from Allentown (PA) Morning Call.

Via, who had holed up in his wife’s home, was arrested, charged with and convicted of the crimes, and received a life sentence. While serving that sentence, Via began submitting poetry and short stories to Easyrider, which published several of his works. He later sold some pieces to Outlaw Biker magazine, as well.

One of Jody Via’s poems appeared in Easyriders # 79, in January, 1980.
Image courtesy of eBay seller Vintage Variety 60.

However, in 2019, investigators working the September 1972 cold-case murder of twenty-nine-year-old salesman Morgan Peters, in Pennsylvania, were directed by two of Via’s ex-wives to look at Via’s published writings. There, in the stories Via sold the biker magazines, police found detailed descriptions of each of his crimes, including the as-yet-unsolved slaying of Peters. Via, still in prison for the rape and murder of Jane Maguire, was charged with Peters’ slaying in 2019. He was seventy-five years old.

I have yet to learn what became of those charges or the defendant.

Man, that took a dark turn, didn’t it? 😮

Larry ‘Jody’ Via’s alleged final victim, Morgan Peters, from the Franklin County District Attorney. May he and Jane Maguire both Rest in Peace.

THE BIKERIDERS

Jack, Chicago © Danny Lyon

THE BIKERIDERS (1968)

I first discovered Danny Lyon’s 1968 book The Bikeriders in 1980, when I came across a hardback first edition in a used book store, and what a discovery it was!

Cliff Vaughs, SNCC photographer, Arrested, Cambridge MD Spring, 1964 © Danny Lyon

Danny Lyon is an award-winning lensman who spent the early days of the 1960s with the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), documenting the Civil Rights Movement in the Deep South (above).  In his first week in the South, Lyon was arrested, and spent a week in a cell beside a beleaguered Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Junior.

Clarksdale Mississippi Police, from Memories of the Civil Rights Movement, 1963 © Danny Lyon

Upon release he was threatened with lynching by racist cops (like those pictured above) but persevered to become SNCC’s official photographer, documenting many of the key moments in the Civil Rights Movement’s quest for justice and racial equality.

John Lewis © Danny Lyon

He also became lifelong friends with SNCC organizer and future Congressman John Lewis (above) and was at the Congressman’s side in the final days of Mr. Lewis’ life.

Benny at Grand and Division, 1965 and Memorial Day Run, Milwaukee © Danny Lyon

After his efforts in the Deep South, Lyon — already a dedicated rider — returned to Chicago, enrolled in university there, and became a member of the Chicago Outlaws Motorcycle Club.

Danny Lyon, self portrait, with his 1956 Triumph © Danny Lyon

As a full-patch member of the Outlaws, Lyon (aboard his beloved 1956 Triumph Thunderbird, above) rode and partied with the club, but also photographed Outlaws and patchholders from other clubs, their wives and girlfriends, motorcycle racers and mechanics and others involved in the motorcycle scene. 

Kathy, Chicago, 1967 © Danny Lyon

He also conducted low-key, casual interviews with Outlaws and other clubbers, their old ladies, and some of the racers he’d met at tracks from Illinois to New Hampshire.

Racer, Shererville, Indiana’ 1965 © Danny Lyon
From Dayton to Columbus, Ohio © Danny Lyon

The resulting book was groundbreaking in many ways.  For starters, it combined Lyon’s technically brilliant and compassionately soulful images of the motorcycling world with transcripts of his interviews, in a format never before seen in American publishing.  It also made him one of the first observers (after Hunter S. Thompson of Hell’s Angels fame and Tom Wolfe, who wrote The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test) to document the rising phenomenon of ‘outlaw motorcycle clubs’, and his book the first photo book about bikers ever published.  Finally, it made his the very first book about clubs written by an actual member of a club, and giving voice to rank-and-file members of those clubs.

Brucie, his CH and Crazy Charlie, McHenry, Illinois © Danny Lyon

Sadly, The Bikeriders  received little notice when it was first published, and quickly went out of print.  As psychotic as I have always been about reading and collecting books on motorcycling and other topics of interest, I’d never heard of Lyon or his book when I found that first edition hardback at Half-Price Books on Lavaca Street in Austin in 1980, but gladly paid the $4.95 for my copy….

The Bikeriders was first published in 1968. This is the cover of one of the many recent reissues.

….and by-the-by, as of this morning, those same first edition / first printing hardbacks were selling for anywhere from $1000 to $1850!  😮 Not that my copy is for sale anytime soon — as a biker and historian, the book is a precious resource — but it’s nice to know I scored one hell of a deal! 😆

Broken Gearbox, New Orleans, 1964 © Danny Lyon

For a long time, at least amongst the bikers I rode with, no one had ever heard of Danny Lyon or his precious little book.  I stashed the slender volume on a shelf in my ‘permanent library’, and only showed it to people I really thought could appreciate this rare gem I’d uncovered.

Chopper, Milwaukee © Danny Lyon

However, with the advent of social media I saw more and more people raving about his groundbreaking photojournalism: The Bikeriders, his monograph on the Texas prison system, his work with SNCC during the Civil Rights Movement of the early ’60s, his report on the destruction of Lower Manhattan and much, much more.

A BRIEF RETROSPECTIVE OF DANNY LYON’S WORK

Andy at The Stoplight, Cicero, Illinois, 1966 and Cal, Springfield, Illinois, 1966 © Danny Lyon….
….and yes, that is a Hells Angels tattoo on Cal’s arm. He was a member of the Angels before moving to Chicago. A lateral move like that would not be tolerated in today’s biker world.
The Dominoes Players, Texas Walls Unit, 1967 © Danny Lyon
Danville, Virginia, 1963 from The Movement © Danny Lyon
Aerial View of Manhattan, 1966 from The Destruction of Lower Manhattan © Danny Lyon
Llanito, New Mexico, 1972 © Danny Lyon
Juarez (Eddie), 1978 © Danny Lyon
Truck near Yuma, Arizona, 1962 © Danny Lyon
Sparky and CowBoy, Gary Rogues, 1965 © Danny Lyon
A potentially intriguing side note: the history behind this photograph was examined in an article by Stephen Franklin for Smithsonian Magazine in March, 2008. CowBoy (the capital ‘B’ is deliberate) and Sparky served together in Vietnam. When CowBoy was discharged, rather than return to his home state of Utah, he opted to travel to Sparky’s hometown of Gary, Indiana, to await Sparky’s return from Southeast Asia. Together, they joined the Rogues MC of Gary, and rode together for a number of years.
After returning to Utah in 1971, CowBoy was arrested and convicted of murdering a man who had snitched on a motorcycle club leader. He was sentenced to death — a sentence subsequently overturned due to prosecutorial misconduct — and in 1995 CowBoy was granted parole. At the time of the Smithsonian publication, he was still living in Utah, retired but still riding motorcycles. Sparky, who reportedly moved to Minnesota in the mid-’70s, could not be located for comment.

THE BIKERIDERS RIDES AGAIN, 1997 to 2014

Beginning in 1997, reissues of The Bikeriders began to appear. Some were über-expensive slip-cased collectors’ items, priced in the hundreds, but in 2003 Chronicle Books released a more reasonably priced revised edition, which gave Lyon’s work a second chance at the immortality it deserves.

Cal on the Springfield Run © Danny Lyon

The new release included a number of ‘lost’ photographs — many in color like the one above — that the photographer unearthed from a forgotten file cabinet in the offices of Magnum Photos, where Lyon was an associate from 1967 to 1975.

Springfield Run © Danny Lyon

The 2003 edition also included new remarks by the author about his personal history with the Outlaws Motorcycle Club, and why he hung up his colors. For those of us interested in the history of bikers, this was dynamite stuff!

Crossing the Ohio, Louisville, 1966 (© Danny Lyon) is one of Lyon’s best-known images. I have had a poster-sized print (below) framed on the wall above my desk for decades.
Lyon’s Crossing the Ohio, Louisville, 1966 (© Danny Lyon) is just one of many images I have plastered on my office walls. One of the things I love about Lyon’s work is that his photographs, most of them, could have been taken this morning. They are ageless, insightful, compassionate of their subjects, and technically brilliant.
Crossing the Ohio as reenacted by actor Austin Butler for Jeff Nichol’s 2024 film The Bikeriders. The film opens in general release Friday night, June 21st, and stars A-list talent like Butler, Jodie Comer, Tom Hardy and Norman Reedus. I have tickets to a preview screening tomorrow night, June 20th. 😎👍🏻

THE BIKERIDERS RIDES ONTO THE SILVER SCREEN, 2024

Apparently, filmmaker Jeff Nichols (Take Shelter, Midnight Special and Mud) agreed with that ‘dynamite’ assessment, because he took Lyon’s book — the photographs, interviews, and Lyon’s personal remarks — as inspiration for a new full-length feature film, also titled The Bikeriders and starring current A-list actors like Austin Butler (Elvis and Masters of the Air), Jodie Comer (Star Wars Episode IX and Killing Eve), and Tom Hardy (Band of Brothers and Inception).

Austin Butler as ‘Benny’, a reckless, passionate young man with a heavy throttle hand and a fierce loyalty to his club brothers.
© 2024 Focus Features
Jodie Comer as ‘Kathy’, the fiery young redhead who marries the wild and hot-tempered ‘Benny’. There is already Oscar buzz around Comer’s performance as the tough-but-tender woman in love with her hot-headed wild boy.
© 2024 Focus Features
Tom Hardy as ‘Johnny’, founder of the Vandals MC, an older man with quiet authority and secret ambitions.
© 2024 Focus Features
Michael Faist (West Side Story and starring roles in Broadway productions of Newsies: The Musical and Dear Evan Hansen, for which he received a Tony nomination) as ‘Danny’, the idealistic young photojournalist who joins the fictional ‘Vandals MC’
© 2024 Focus Features
Michael Shannon (Grand Theft Parsons, Pearl Harbor and Tigerland) as ‘Zipco’, who laments his failed attempt to enlist for military service in Vietnam, and befriends a wayward Angel named Funny Sonny.
© 2024 Focus Features
Norman Reedus (Gossip, The Boondock Saints and The Walking Dead) as ‘Funny Sonny’.
In real life, Funny Sonny (pictured below, riding with Chicago Outlaws member Zipco) was a Hells Angel who moved to Chicago and joined the Outlaws MC. That was a more innocent time. Shifting allegiance the way Sonny did would not be permitted in today’s club world.
It has been reported that Funny Sonny later received a savage beating from some younger Hells Angels who overheard him tell a waitress he had once been an Angel, and did not believe his protestations that he was, in fact, a former patchholder in the infamous California-based club. It is also said that, after the beatdown, some Hells Angels went to Sonny’s residence and forcibly confiscated any Angel memorabilia he had in his possession. 😒
© 2024 Focus Features
Funny Sonny packing with Zipco, Milwaukee © Danny Lyon
Corky and Funny Sonny, Chicago © Danny Lyon
The Hells Angels reportedly began the practice of patchholders kissing. It was — per Thompson in Hell’s Angels (1967) — partly a means of shocking square citizens, and partly a mark of true brotherhood.
I still remember the first time I saw two outlaw bikers lay a liplock on each other. I was behind the counter of the motorcycle shop where I worked and they kissed right in front of me. I think they expected me to be amongst the squares shocked by such antics. I think I shocked them when I simply grinned and turned away. 😁

Reading reports about the upcoming film and synopses of the plot, and viewing the trailer for the film, I feel certain the storyline depicted in the film will be heavily weighted by Lyon’s later remarks about his tenure with the club. The film’s ‘rise and fall’ arc seems to reflect the photographer’s disillusionment with the club’s turn from a band of rowdy hard-riding roughnecks to a grimmer, more dangerous organization.

From the photo book VANDALS: The Photography of the Motion Picture The Bikeriders
© 2024 Insight Editions

I’m still excited to see the film.  If nothing else, a ‘biker flick’ from A-listers like Butler, Comer, Hardy and Nichols will become part of biker history, along the lines of The Wild One and Easy Rider.

The Wild One (1953): Star Lee Marvin (fun-loving biker ‘gang’ leader Chino) argues with Robert Keith (outgunned local sheriff Harry Bleeker) as Marlon Brando (disaffected punk Johnny Strabler) stands mute and painfully ‘hep’.
Easy Rider (1969): Stars Dennis Hopper (the manic Billy) and Peter Fonda (über-cool Wyatt) with Captain America, the most recognizable motorcycle on the planet, idle past a local cop with an attitude about longhaired hippie types in his East Texas burg.

The Bikeriders may well have the power, as those films did, to impact the future of biker life in America and around the world. However, I am NOT expecting a happily-ever-after ending for Kathy, Benny, Johnny and the boys.

Jodie Comer and Austin Butler as ‘Kathy’ and ‘Benny’ in The Bikeriders
© 2024 Focus Features

Guess we’ll find out this weekend, eh? 😆

Austin Butler with the 1965 panhead-powered Electra-Glide he rides in the film.
© 2024 Focus Features
Only in theaters…. © 2024 Focus Features
Austin Butler as ‘Benny’ © 2024 Focus Features
The Vandals MC © 2024 Focus Features
This is another reenactment of a photograph from The Bikeriders. Per Danny Lyon, who was on set when this scene was filmed, ‘Austin Butler, who is as handsome as God, lifts his head up and looks into the camera. That’s the shot!’
As handsome as God…? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Hmm…. 🤔
© 2024 Focus Features
The photograph in question — the original, as published in The Bikeriders and Austin Butler’s portrayal on set. As filming was wrapping up, Danny Lyon managed to reconnect with the real-life Benny, still alive and living in Florida. After a pleasant bit of catching up, Benny told the photographer ‘Hey, you know the picture of me at the pool hall?’ Lyon said ‘Yeah?’ and Benny said ‘Check out the tattoos. It’s not me.’ 😆

NOW, LET THE MARKETING BEGIN! ☣️

It should come as no surprise that swag for The Bikeriders film is already flying off the shelves. The other day I posted on Facebook about a $1250 ‘Vandals’ jacket on offer from Schott Brothers, the same purveyors of leather goods who crafted Marlon Brando’s famous ‘Perfecto’ jacket for the 1953 film The Wild One. They are now offering a ‘D-Pocket Jacket’ like the one Tom Hardy’s character wears in the film.

The Schott Bros. promote their $1250 ‘Vandals’ leather jacket.
….and even replicate Danny Lyon’s Crossing the Ohio, Louisville, 1966 for their advertising campaign.

Then there’s the photo book VANDALS: The Photography of the Motion Picture ‘The Bikeriders’ (2024), which is available through Amazon, Schott’s website, and goddess knows where else….

….and, of course, official merch from the filmmakers themselves, including denim jackets with Vandals MC ‘colors’ printed or embroidered on the back, matching ball caps, t-shirts, hoodies and sweatpants (sweatpants? 😮 Really? 😱).

I am not pimping for these mercenary fecks, BTW; I’m just alerting you, gentle reader, to exactly WTF is going on in the motorcycling world, for better or worse. 😱

Those of us who have been riding for a while are having flashbacks to Sons of Anarchy and all the relentless marketing surrounding that production. To this day, people are showing up at motorcycle events wearing official ‘support’ t-shirts and pirated copies of SoA colors, and YouTube teems with videos of people warning riders of issues with faux club colors, like the ones the couple below are sporting.

Just for the record: DON’T!

I’d love to hear back from anyone who’s seen The Bikeriders movie. I’ll do my best to respond to comments ASAP.

Shalom!

Austin Butler lets out a wild, joyful shout as he hauls ass through the fields outside Chicago.
© 2024 Focus Features

CYCLISTS’ RAID

The full text of ‘Cyclists’ Raid’ by Frank Rooney, as published in Harper’s in January, 1951. Read my remarks about Rooney’s story and the incident at Hollister, on which it is based, in my previous post.

As a bonus, I am including the articles mentioned in my previous post, that were published in The San Francisco Chronicle and The Hollister Free Lance on the Monday following the ‘riot’ over the 1947 July 4th weekend.

From The San Francisco Chronicle, July 7th, 1947. I replaced the unrecognizable pics from the original photocopy with clearer images of Peterson’s photographs.
From The Hollister Free Lance, July 7th, 1947.

GEORGE  THE  PAINTER, aka GTP, aka George Frizzell

NSFW content ahead. Brace yourselves.

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Pussy and Bourbon # 1 by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

The term ‘acquired taste’ was coined for characters like George the Painter, but I confess that it is a taste I have acquired. In my collection I have a number of his prints, purchased from the artist himself through the old The Horse / Back Street Choppers readers’ forum, where we were both frequent flyers in the early ’00s. I look forward to displaying some of them in the Adults Only section of MMMoMMA soon. 😏

Life of Kings by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

I’m trailer trash / drunk off my ass / and my savings went to liquor so I’m all out of cash…. ♫ © 2021 Caroline’s Daughter. 😆

Rebel by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell. The ‘RAT LIFE’ tattoo is one of GTP’s own.
Oh Hell Yea [sic] by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

When he chooses to, GTP can get downright representational, as with the Sporty above and the moonlit chopper below. I find that painting particularly evocative.

* EK87S *, a commission by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell. Titles marked with asterisks are ones I made up, because the artist’s title was unknown.

Others evince a technical mastery of light, color and shadow that nudges the neighborhood of realism, without fully crossing the line.

Hogster by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Knucklehead * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
*Knucklehead * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

….and when he’s not painting blowsy barflies, GTP is capable of more pedestrian images.

This looks suspiciously like the scenic and thrilling Tail of the Dragon, which leaves Maggie Valley, North Carolina, (home of Dale Walksler’s famous Wheels Through Time Museum) and meanders over the state line into Tennessee, with a challenging 318 curves in just 11 miles! 😮 Overconfident (or overserved) riders have come to unhappy ends in those hills, but it’s a destination ride for our tribe, and motorcyclists come from around the world to challenge the Tail and visit the motorcycle museum. Highly recommended, BTW.
* Peterbilt Posse * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* The Boys * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Pickup * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Cometic * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Chopper Couple * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Kiss * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

Richie Pan was a renowned artist, tattooist and bike builder from New Jersey who was killed in an auto-pedestrian crash on his way home from the annual North Carolina Smokeout. I mentioned him in my article about David Mann, but GTP knew Richie Pan, had been tattooed by him, and painted two portraits of his friend.

* Richie Pan in his shop * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell. Richie is seated on his beloved panhead, Viola.
* Richie Pan in the wind * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

As with David Mann, Edward Hopper and other favorite artists, George Frizzell will insert himself into his work at times, as with this oddly-named canvas: Intergalactic Attack Formation # 1….

Intergalactic Attack Formation # 1 by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell. That is GTP hisself, trademark sneer in place, aboard the shovelhead he calls ‘Leaky Latowski’. He reports that the original canvas now lives in Australia.

….and this, where he demonstrates Leaky Latowski’s low-end torque.

When Pigs Fly by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

Finally, in this recent canvas, GTP notes that he ‘wanted to paint a loser with a busted ass bike and it ended up being a self portrait.’ He was raffling off the original canvas, and noted, ‘I’ve been off my Shovel for long enough and this raffle will send some cash in the right direction!’ I can relate! If they were still on offer, I’d buy a ticket or two myself! 😎

* Loser * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

However, like a lot of bikers, GTP seems to delight in the age-old game called ‘shocking the squares,’ and he plays it well!

Rothouse 187 by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

GTP’s work is sometimes hard to look at – rude and graphic and in-your-face, much like the artist himself – and not everyone can hang with it.  However, if the viewer is open and brave enough, they are going to meet an America few folks will talk about; a grim, hostile underbelly filled with proud white trash, loud motorcycles, barflies, brawlers, booze and sex and rock ‘n’ roll.  GTP takes all of this in, and then flings it at the viewer like blood, sweat and spinal fluid, in violent knife-edged spasms of color, light and shadow. 

V by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

If you can hang, study what GTP has created on canvas, and you will discover an uncompromising artist with a hard-core, anarchic sense of self, which makes him a Charles Bukowski of the painted word. 

Blow Job by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
Two of George’s more noticeable tattoos: WHITE TRASH ICON and RAT LIFE.

SHOVELHEAD LOVE

Like me, George loves his shovelheads, and they feature prominently in his art. I’m always glad to see my favorite Milwaukee motor represented, but….

* Shovelhead SS * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Shovelhead * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Shovelhead * in charcoal by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Shovelhead * in charcoal by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
Some wag suggested * Hogwarts’ Hagrid gets a Harley * as a title. Whatever. It’s another Shovelhead by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.
* Shovel Jesus * by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell.

If you’re really brave, read a few of GTP’s columns in back issues of The Horse / Back Street Choppers — the now-defunct biker rag that gave Frizzell a resident platform for his art and off-the-wall screeds — and you’ll see that George comes by his ‘fuck the world’ brand of hardscrabble individualism honestly. He is brutally forthright about living his life his way.  Dilettantes and poseurs need not apply.

The Horse / Backstreet Choppers

The Horse / Backstreet Choppers was a weak imitation of the OG Easyriders* magazine, which began in 1970, but The Horse did feature owner-built choppers in amongst all the pouty-lipped models, hipster-bearded and tattooed ‘old skool’ wannabes and eye-boggling graphics. The Horse / Backstreet Choppers was GTP’s home away from home for many years. They published his artwork and many of his rambling, overheated screeds. Those columns were later collected into a ‘bathroom reader‘ that is now out-of-print, and listed for stoopid money on eBay and Amazon.

Yet another shovelhead; this one with the inscrutable title Deluxe Space Robot by George ‘GTP’ Frizzell. That is his Leaky Latowski fuel tank on the floor.

In a documentary series, Richie Pan’s America, George said he wasn’t much of a writer, wasn’t much of a painter, wasn’t much of a bike builder, and yet he’s famous. 🤷🏻‍♀️

He also made a comment that speaks volumes about him, and about bikers in general. He said, ‘Being poor and destitute without a motorcycle is completely uncool, but you can be the same motherfucker and have a motorcycle between your legs — still have no place to live — and it’s cool….’

I don’t know about George, but in my career as a biker, I’ve been homeless, without a car, a job or bank account, but I’ve always had a bike, and yeah, that’s pretty feckin’ cool! 😎

Let’s let GTP go out the same way he came in, with a hearty ‘Fuck You’ to all and sundry! 😎

George the Painter can be found offending the world in these locations (to name just a few): https://www.instagram.com/georgethepainter, https://www.instagram.com/fineartforw_hitetrash, https://georgethepainter.bigcartel.com/products, https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/george-frizzell/art/george+frizzell, https://www.facebook.com/GeorgeFrizzellJr,

And his latest endeavor, Chopper Hostel, billed as ‘a great place to hide the bodies,’ at https://chopperhostel.com/

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!

❤️ A brief pictorial history of a love affair for the ages. ❤️

Forty-five years ago I was a kid with a dream of owning a Harley-Davidson. I put away the alcohol and drugs that I’d abused all through my teens, got not one but two jobs, saved some money for a down-payment and worked with my credit union to establish credit. Now it was time to find the bike of my dreams….

….and find her I did.

I began my search at the stealership on Burnet Road in Austin, just south of Koenig Lane, where the sales manager treated me like the Julia Roberts character in Pretty Woman. For whatever reason — my age, my long hair, my jeans-and-t-shirt wardrobe choices — he apparently assumed I wasn’t well-heeled enough to afford a Harley. When I announced that I was there to buy a bike he said ‘The used bikes are outside,’ waved a lazy hand in the direction of the door, turned on his heel and walked away. In previous visits to that shop I had watched that man do everything short of performing fellatio on the showroom floor to make a sale, so, yeah, I took being treated that way personally.

But it worked out well for me, because as I was leaving the stealership I spotted a Harley in a used car lot two doors up the street….

….and that Harley — the 1974 FX-1200 Superglide I named The Bitch — has been under my ass or in my garage ever since.

Forty-five years! 😮 Outside my blood relations, there is not a single relationship in my life older than the one between me and The Bitch.

So, Happy Anniversary, baby! Let’s do forty-five more! 😎


Forgive me, Ralph, for I have sinned….

In his 1979 article* about the Bandidos Motorcycle Club, Texas Monthly writer Dick Reavis created a humorous sidebar about the First Church of Harley-Davidson, located in Denton, Texas. The sect’s theology is a little off-center — the church’s founder, Malvern Daugherty, AKA ‘Reverend Box’, describes it as a ‘beer-and-reefer church’ — but some members claim to believe in Ralph, the little tin god of all things Harley-Davidson.

True believers feel that Ralph lives within each Harley-Davidson engine and, as Reavis writes, ‘that he is a jealous and exacting god. In order to worship him, Harley owners must kneel and carry out monkish acts of ritual devotion, like changing oil, tuning up, and keeping Ralph’s motor-temple clean. “The more religiously you carry out maintenance, the more Ralph smiles on you,” oracle Box proclaims. Inspired study of the Harley repair manual is considered necessary to gain Ralph’s grace.

First Churchers fear Ralph’s wrath, which a few of them have suffered firsthand. “You’ll be puttin’ down the road one day when all of a sudden your motor will thunder out ‘Rraaaallphh!’ That’s his punishment for infidels. You’ll find that your motor won’t run anymore, if it’s in one piece, and as for Ralph, he’ll be gone from it, back to his celestial home.” This vengeful visitation, Box says, is called “Ralphing it on the road.”

While I’m not a member of the First Church of Harley-Davidson (if it still exists; that was written in 1979) I will allow that some spirit lives within Harley-Davidson engines — that’s what gives Harley-Davidson its legendary ‘soul’ — and that it is possible to piss them off….

….as I have apparently done.

You see, I sinned by taking The Bitch — my beloved 1974 shovelhead — for granted. When I parked her years ago, I didn’t do the things one must do to keep Ralph happy while his motorcycle home sits idle. I didn’t add fuel stabilizer to the petrol tanks or, better yet, drain the damned things. I didn’t put the battery on a trickle charger to keep it fresh, or fire the bike up and run it for fifteen minutes or so, which is apparently what is required to burn off any condensation that may have accumulated in the oiling system. I didn’t do nothin’ except hoist The Bitch up on a stand and slap a chain and padlock on her.

To be fair, I didn’t realize I was parking the bike for years. I’d had a get-off that destroyed the inner primary, and assumed I would make the repairs and get back in the saddle in short order. However, life had other plans.

In December, on my way to a Toy Run, FFS, I had a get-off in a highway underpass. The hows and whys are a story unto themselves, but the end result was a very expensive jigsaw puzzle!

For one thing, I got an opportunity to return to college, to complete the bachelor’s degree I had begun working toward the same year I bought The Bitch. There were forms to fill out, an application essay to write, interviews and appointments and registration…. and then there were classes, and homework, and, y’know, life stuff, like family gatherings and dates with my wife and dinners with friends, and I simply lost track of time. One day I looked up and realized it had been years.

That is when my quest to trike the shovelhead began in earnest, but still, The Bitch sat in the garage, more hat-rack than Harley, as I did all I did to try to procure a trike frame for her. After those efforts failed, and I bought the Freewheeler I am currently riding, any urgency to get The Bitch running quickly waned again. I had something new to distract me, and the learning curve of getting used to life on three wheels. The shovel would wait. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Yet another sin against Ralph.

As noted in my previous post, I got a wild hair to enter my shovelhead in the Handbuilt Motorcycle Show, so I began working on replacing fluids, battery, et cetera. I foolishly believed The Bitch, my faithful steed of forty-five years, would magically not suffer the degradations of time in idle limbo; that the gas would probably be just fine, the carburetor still fully functional, the inner tubes still airtight.

Yeah. That didn’t happen.

Believing the fuel tanks to be close to empty, I poured most of a gallon of fresh petrol in them before learning that the carburetor was not still fully functional, and that the damned petcock leaked whenever I turned it on.

This leaking petcock would need to be replaced. I had to loosen the fatbob mounting bolts fore and aft to get the petcock, with its 90° outlet, past the backside of the shovelhead’s rocker boxes.

I ordered a carburetor rebuild kit and replacement petcock from Amazon, available for next-day delivery, and called it a night. The next day, when the new parts arrived, I got stuck back into my penance…. umm, my mechanical efforts…. and began draining the fuel tanks as I rebuilt the carburetor.

Yeah, that didn’t happen, either.

The rebuild kit was nothing but made-in-China crap — the gaskets didn’t fit and the float valve needle was a full 1/8th of an inch longer than OEM! 😮 It’s as if, in creating this kit, the manufacturers looked at the pictures in a service manual and used their best approximation of the necessary sizes. Utterly useless, and on its way back to the Commie bastards who created it.

She’s missing something, but I can’t quite put my finger on just what….

So I turned my attention to the tanks, and realized there was far more petrol in there than I’d realized. The first can I used to catch fuel overflowed, so I deployed a second, and thought I’d pretty well gotten everything out. Time to replace the petcock then, right?

Except that, when I removed the petcock, another gallon of petrol splashed out!

I was panicked, getting doused with the stuff and unable to get the petcock back in place, but I did finally managed to get a gas can under the tank outlet and catch the last one-third of a gallon. However, the rest splashed all over the floor and began spreading rapidly, as petrol is wont to do.

In a mad scramble, accompanied by much cursing, wailing and gnashing of teeth, I used crumpled newspaper to sop up as much of the stuff as I could, but the smell remained. Dunno if you’ve ever had the pleasure, but years-old petrol reeks even worse than the fresh stuff you spill on the side of your car at the local convenience store. It reeks, and the stench lingers for a really long time!

Bless her heart, Jackie braved the hail of cusswords and self-recrimination I unleashed in the moment to come to my aid. She also did a quick Google search, and learned that kitty litter will supposedly absorb the odor. I will tell you that at this moment, over thirteen hours after I spread the kitty litter, it is no silver bullet. If any of the odor has been absorbed, or dissipated out the vent fan that’s been running for the past forty-eight hours, I can’t tell. That crap still reeks!

UPDATE: It took over seventy-two hours, the aforementioned application of kitty litter and a good scrubbing of the garage floor with a mixture of vinegar and baking soda to finally clear that stench from the garage! 🤢

I did manage to learn why the tank retained so much petrol after I thought it drained. Turned out that the petcock’s filter was clogged almost three inches up its length — the rust a fuel stabilizer might have prevented, don’tcha know — so that, even with the petcock on its ‘reserve’ setting, none of that last gallon of gas could escape….

….until I removed the petcock, of course! 🙄

Neil Young tried to warn me: RUST NEVER SLEEPS!
Who knows what kind of rust and other crud is up there, inside that hole?

So here I am. The shovel can’t be put back together because I don’t have the carburetor rebuild kit required, and I’m probably going to have to remove and cleanse the tanks — just the job I was hoping I would not have to do!

Ralph is really stickin’ it to me, dammit! 🤬🤬🤬

  • I will reproduce Mr. Reavis’ article in a future post. The Bandido MC photo at the top of the page, from Mr. Reavis’ article, was taken by Chris Wahlberg © 1979 Texas Monthly

It was a thought….

The Bitch, my beloved 1974 shovelhead, has been sitting and gathering dust and cobwebs for several years more than I care to admit. Long story, but anyhoo….

Jackie and I are packing up the house in Austin — it’s already listed for sale — and prepping for our anticipated move to San Antonio, so I’ve felt fortunate to have the 2016 Freewheeler to ride, and assumed The Bitch would be trailered to SA in its existing condition.

But then I saw the announcements for this coming weekend’s Handbuilt Motorcycle Show, including a call for entries. I scanned the photo galleries of past events, and didn’t see anything that looked like The Bitch, so I thought, ‘Hmmm…. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the head, getting my weary old road warrior in a show with all these slick, sleek professionally built custom bikes?’ What can I say? 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’m evil that way. 😈

Only trick is that when you submit an entry, you promise that the motorcycle you show will be running when you deliver it to the showgrounds. Hence, with Jackie’s encouragement, I started scrambling to get The Bitch fired up.

That’s just the color you want to see on a set of plugs!

First step: drain as much sumped oil as possible from the crankcase. I pulled the sparkplugs, still a lovely shade of tan because I know how to tune the shovel properly, and dropped the feed from the oil-bag, and started kicking, and kicking, and kicking….

Oil being returned to the oil-bag as I kick drains into the oil pan on the floor.
The flow from the crankcase, as I kick, is forced out the chain oiler through the crankcase breather.
Imagine: we used to let that waste oil drain into the ground and think nothing of it. Now we have to collect it in containers, and make an appointment to take it to the Hazardous Waste Recycling Center, which is all the way down IH35, south of Ben White Boulevard! It’s a wonder more people aren’t just dumping the stuff on the ground, still. Not me, of course — I’m a good steward of the earth these days — but I’ll bet there are a lot of gearheads who can’t be arsed to drain and retain the way I do.
UPDATE: a couple weeks after publishing the post you’re currently reading, I rediscovered this clipping I had in my files, from Popular Science back in 1963, and thought I’d share it with y’all.

I finally got enough oil out that I thought I might be good to go, so I reattached the feed line and poured two quarts of Valvoline Grade 50 into the oil-bag. It will officially hold three, but in my experience, that includes any oil stored in the external filter and connecting lines. The tank itself might hold two and a half. However, since the 50 is just to flush the system, two will do what needs doing.

The last battery I bought The Bitch measured 5.25×3.5×7″ and weighed 11 pounds! 😮

Next up was the battery. I’d been buying lovely gel batteries from the BMW shop on North Lamar, but the bastards had the nerve to go out of business. However, Cycle Gear over on US Highway 183 at Burnet Road came to the rescue. It took a couple of tries, but they came up with a Lithium Ion battery from Duraboost. First one I’ve ever purchased. It’s smaller and lighter, with no acid to fuss about, and has the added advantage of being mountable in any position, even upside down, without leaking or malfunctioning. Not a cheap date, but worth every penny, IMO. I imagine chopper builders the world over are ecstatic about these things!

This little jewel measures 5.3 x 2.6 x 3.6″, and weighs a measly 1.3 pounds! 😮😮😮 It also fits neatly into the battery box with inches to spare!

Added bennie: Cycle Gear gave me a discount for being a veteran! 👍🏻

Thinking I might be ready to give The Bitch a try, I took her off the hydraulic stand she’d been resting on for years — an adventure in itself — and leaned her over on her kickstand, where she immediately began puking oil all over the floor. I started to panic, thinking all my nice new 50-weight was going to end up soaking into old issues of The Austin Chronicle. Apparently I hadn’t cleared as much of the sumped oil as I’d thought, but it stopped in short order.

So now I have oil, lights and power. What next? Oh, yeah…. petrol! 👍🏻

Behind that very ‘old school’ panhead air cleaner cover is a fifty-year-old Zenith Bendix 38mm carburetor that has served me very well for forty-five years!

The Bitch still runs the OEM Zenith Bendix carburetor she came with from the factory — a juicy, easy-to-kickstart mixer that has served me well over the years. The Bendix has powered The Bitch and I well over half a million miles, from sea-level Galveston and Corpus Christi to the top of Rocky Mountain Nat’l Park — 11,798′ above sea level — and from the Texas border with Mexico to the Badlands of South Dakota. We’ve been up and down the Rockies on numerous trips, and all over the desert Southwest, with nary an adjustment or stutter. I spent years working the parts counter at Bud’s Motorcycle Shop on East First Street, and I was just agog at the pains some riders went through to rejet their carburetors in advance of road trips. Some even installed adjustable main-jets! Me, I was always, like, ‘Why?‘ 🤷🏻‍♀️ The Bitch just never needed it.

But as good a carb as the Bendix is, no carburetor will tolerate being ignored for years. They develop…. issues, you might say, and mine was not the exception I was hoping it would be. Nope. I poured some petrol in the tank, flipped the petcock lever, and….

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Not a drop of petrol was getting from tank to jet. Curses! 🤬

The carburetor prior to disassembly….

I dropped the bowl, catching the requisite handful of petrol as I did. One of my least favorite things, the smell of gasoline on my hands, because it lingers. C’est la vie, right? I wiped the bowl clean and blew compressed air through the passage from fuel pump to jet, clearing the passage of whatever obstruction it had, and thought I’d scored big-time! I reassembled the carb, turned the petcock back on, and watched heartbroken as petrol Niagara’d all over my engine from the vent at the back of the bowl. Curses again! 🤬

That petcock has less than fifty miles on it, and leaks like a sieve. Apparently, that’s a common problem with aftermarket petcocks. If the one I get tomorrow fails, I guess I’ll be shopping at the stealership again.

I took it all apart again, inspected and cleaned the float needle, and gave it another go. Same mess. Dammit! And, as if that weren’t enough, the petcock, which is virtually brand new, has sprung a leak as well. Imma have to get used to eating food that tastes like gasoline for the next several days. 🤢

I have a coffee can filled with petcocks, fuel filters and carburetor parts — even a spare Bendix carb — but in the rush to prep the house for sale, I naturally packed it and stowed it in the storage unit we rented. 🙄 I ran up to the storage unit and retrieved that tin and another filled with fuel line and clamps, but did not find the Bendix rebuild kit I thought I had in stock. Need I say ‘Curses!’ again? 🤬

The carburetor in amongst spare parts from my stash, but I decided against trying to piece it together with odd parts. I’ll have the rebuild kit tomorrow, and handle it then.

Since Bud’s is no longer in business, following Bud Reveile’s untimely death in 2015, the odds of finding a rebuild kit in town are slim to none, so I jumped on Amazon and, sure enough, they have ’em available for next-day delivery! They also have a petcock that will allegedly fit my 1997 Softail tanks. Fingers crossed they’re right. 🤞🏻

So, I’m at an stopping point for the moment. More anon….

….but during all the mad dashing to get the bike running, I received a message from the Handbuilt Motorcycle Show staff telling me my entry has been rejected! 😭 REJECTED!?!? How could they do that to my baby? 😢

Seriously, I knew my last-minute, unconventional entry was a longshot in a show packed full of sleek, pristine machines, but it was worth a shot, no? 🤷🏻‍♀️ And it gave me the kick in the ass I needed to get The Bitch fired up. No reason to quit now!

And I’m still going to the show, despite the slight! 😎 Maybe see some of y’all there!

UPDATE:

I did in fact attend the show, with my old friend Bil (one ‘L’ only) from ‘way back in my glory days. It was fun enough, wandering around checking out the flash machines. A lot of shiny chit to gawk at, most of it Euro or Pacific Rim in origin.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. 😏

I’ll take ‘Things I Wouldn’t Be Caught Dead On’ for $400, Alex.
I’ll take ‘Things I’d Be Embarrassed to Park Beside’ for $1000, Alex.
Some nice details on these knuckleheads, but there really is such a thing as ‘too much’, y’know?
I mean, I like Steampunk effects well enough, but….
….there’s cool accents and then….
….there’s overload.
Newton R-n-D Yamaha Triple. Odd AF, but at least they broke the mold.
The flip-side of Newton’s Yammer-Hammer.
There were some old school chops, like this very classic panhead and the Honda Four beside it….
….and then there was this Sporty trike set up for a wheelchair rider. If you’ve read my posts titled chal•lenge, and chal•lenge, part two you know that I’ve long been fascinated by handicap adaptations for motorcyclists, so this really caught my eye.
This part in particular intrigued me – a fold-out transfer board for shifting from saddle to wheelchair. The other wheelchair users I’ve known – motorcyclists and cagers alike – just muscled their way back and forth. That’s what I did when I was in a chair after my accident, but it requires upper-body strength not all wheelchair users possess. This would definitely make life easier for those folks.
Trick, no?
Then there was this oddity – another Yamaha creation – which happened to be parked right beside….
….the Coroner’s Office? 🤷🏻‍♀️ The show was held in the old printing plant of the Austin American-Statesman on South Congress, right where the billboard company I worked for once had their headquarters.
I have no idea why the Statesman might have had an office for the Coroner, or if that was some wag’s idea of humor. Maybe this was actually the newspaper’s morgue, where old back-issues are kept on file for reference? 🤷🏻‍♀️
In any event, using the Statesman’s property for a motorcycle show was an interesting choice, given the daily’s editorial bias against motorcyclists. Or maybe it was just bikers they disliked so intensely? All I can tell you is that I have my own ‘morgue’ of newspaper clippings from the Statesman, documenting their long history of anti-biker bigotry.
In any event, Bil and I had a good enough time, walking our mutually gimped legs off checking out the displays….

….but I soon realized that, of the two choices I had for that weekend’s entertainment, the Texas Fandango out in Gillespie County would have been much more my speed. Hosted by the Cherokee Chapter of the Antique Motorcycle Club of America (of which I am an erstwhile member), the Texas Fandango features vintage machines – many of them American – along with a  vintage swap meet, bike show, chopper show, Xtreem Flattrack Racing, drag racing, Custom Van show and free camping. It also has the advantage of being held in the scenic Texas Hill Country, with great riding roads all around, as opposed to the Handbuilt Show, which is held in very un-scenic and hard-to-get-to downtown Austin.

The Texas Fandango is coming up soon, April 4th through 6th, 2025, and I’m really, really wanting to make the scene if I can. My friend, artist Norman Bean, is slated to be there, with his incredible artwork on display, and it is to be hoped that other old faces might pop up, as well.

It would be nice to spend time with my tribe again. 😎

I took a little drive one night….

As noted in my previous post, the very talented artist Lyndell Dean Wolff painted a portrait of your humble narrator, based on a photograph of me taken at Mount Rushmore back in the early ’80s. I’d ridden up from Texas with my partner — the late T.R. Evans (R.I.P.) — and just had to do all the famous stuff like Mount Rushmore, Spearfish Canyon, et cetera.

Well, Lyndell completed the painting just in time to unveil it at the 20th Annual David Mann Memorial Chopperfest at Ventura, California. Again, per my previous post, my wife and I are in the middle of packing up MMMoMMA’s exhibits (and all our shyte) for a move to San Antonio. After twenty-four and a half years in this house, and me a confirmed packrat/hoarder, there is a lot of shyte to pack!

However, how many times am I going to witness the first public display of a portrait of myself? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hence, about halfway through the week of the Chopperfest, I got the wild idea of actually attending Chopperfest for the first time! 😮

We discussed it — I mean, the timing could scarcely have been worse — but my wife, bless her heart, agreed that if I rendered one room paintable I could light out for the shaky coast, and she’d still have something to do to move us along. I busted a hump and got ‘er done that Friday evening. Insert big sigh of relief here.

Still, I dithered about going — ‘It’s a lot of miles, we’re jammed up with moving….,‘ and so on — but sometime around nine o’clock that evening I threw a few things in a baby duffel, loaded a cooler full of snacks and drinks, filled my venerable ’70s-era stainless steel Thermos with coffee and set out on the road.

Late night balling through West Texas.
In a lot of stretches, I had the road to myself. That never happens on IH35 anymore!
I do love The Land of Enchantment!
I took some time — here on a small stretch of old Route 66 — to indulge my passion for architecture.
That gorgeous brickwork just amazes me. I hope someone will come along and restore that building, rather than just tearing it down and erecting some soulless pre-fab thing in its place!
This view of snow-covered mountains just presaged what was to come.
Between the bitter cold, fog and snow and that ice-slicked roadway, this was a bit of a hairy ride!
But we survived, and lived to drive another day!
Sunset over I-10 on the Saturday night….
….and the colors just get prettier and prettier! Looks like colors from a Maxfield Parrish painting!
At this point I was running on ‘blues power’ (as I used to call it back in my drinking and drugging days) and was virtually braindead. I could not even tell you what city this was, but this was my last photo of the night.

Jackie and I have a lovely system in place when I’m on the road: we will talk on the telephone at intervals (which helps me stay awake) and when it’s time for me to crash, she’ll go online and book me a room. This particular night, I called it quits somewhere around Palm Springs. After roughly twenty-six hours with nothing but catnaps, Audible books and coffee, I was ready to sleep…. and I did! 😴😴😴

I woke up to this on the Sunday morning. Hell of a day for a motorcycle show, yes?
I managed to blast through the Los Angeles area at 80 and 90 MPH without getting clipped. Saw a couple of CHP cruisers and one motorcycle working, but the Sunday morning traffic was sparse, and aside from some left-lane loogies it was a relatively stress-free drive.

It wasn’t hard to find the Ventura County Fairgrounds, where the Chopperfest was being held; just follow the stream of motorcycles. I inched my black road warrior van to the front gate surrounded by the sights and sounds of a vast motorcycling community, found a parking spot and limped my way into the event.

This was a proper chopper show, with plenty of handbuilt scooters of all sorts and sizes, from this well-worn 1946 knuckle bobber….
….and gorgeous, race-ready ’47 Indian Chief….
….to this Bizarro World 1975 Honda 550, with all sorts of whimsical details….
….like the shot-through petrol tank and Brothel badge…
….the ‘Fuck Ya‘ hand shifter and copper tank covers…
….and expressive rear fender! 🙄

There was a replica of the ‘Billy Bike’ from the 1969 cult classic Easy Rider, starring Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson. I’ve seen a lot of star-spangled ‘Captain America’ replicas — at least three so far that their owners swore were the sole surviving movie panhead!!! 🙄 — but never seen a Billy Bike outside of Franklin Mint’s 1:10 scale models. For the record, Franklin Mint’s Easy Rider 1:10 scale replica motorcycles are part of MMMoMMA’s original exhibit.
Note that the chopped and flame-painted Billy Bike is parked right beside what appears to be a beautifully restored 1957 Sportster (below). I just love that there was a wide variety of machines here!
This was an interesting item: a one-of-a-kind 1942 Crosley, designed and built by Russell Martin.
Check out all the beautiful details, and see if you can guess just what it is you’re seeing ….before perusing the menu of ingredients (below) that went into this incredible build.
Isn’t that amazing? 😮
A brace of gorgeous Indians.
Near as I can tell, that’s a 2024 WTF, but the builder insists it is a 1974 Maico. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Me, I have to take his word for it!
A sleek shovelhead….
….a more extravagant panhead….
….and an even wilder creation known only as ‘bagger’!

I wanted to enjoy some of the bikes on display before making my appearance at Lyndell’s stand, so I wandered about for a while, snapping photos of interesting details like these:

I believe that speaks for itself, don’t you?
In its way, so does this one! 😁
This carburetor cover went with the Native American-themed paint on this rider’s panhead.
Instructions or warning? 🤷🏻‍♀️
Beautifully designed and crafted midships footrest and brake pedal. I would need to have far shorter legs and smaller feet than I do to even use these, and that slick chrome doesn’t offer much purchase if trying desperately to avoid ramming the cager who just pulled out in front of you. On a wet day? No way!
Pretty, though! 😁
Apparently saddlebags and a sky-high sissy bar weren’t enough for this rider….
….but then again, he does put on some miles!
However, long bikes like these — the laid-back California-born chopper of the sort immortalized in David Mann’s brilliant artwork — remain the raison d’être for Chopperfest, and this slabside shovel is a prime example of the style.
Some fools say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but a tasty shovel hooks me every time. This heavily chromed and polished 1978 is fun to look at, but for my own bikes I avoid parts that are too shiny. It’s a whole thing with me…. 😏
I may be a shovel man, but this panhead sure caught my eye: simple, understated, with those stepped-up shotguns and a relatively unmolested wishbone frame. Be still, my heart! 🥰
And speaking of unmolested, here we are right where we started, looking at a well-loved knucklehead with an OEM frame in what appears to be OEM condition!
Days like these are why Southern California is considered a bikers’ paradise!

But what of the artist I drove all this way to see? There was a crowded food court serviced by an array of food trailers, and a long outdoor market of sorts that stretched from end to end of the fairgrounds, with all manner of goods on offer. I saw leathers, patches, jewelry, custom and vintage motorcycle parts, even rain gutters for your house!

There were also two huge exhibition halls. The first was filled with booths offering much of the same as those in the bazaar outside: parts, t-shirts, accessories, Jesus…. 😮 oh, yeah, the Lord was there and eager to make your acquaintance, if the motorcycle ministry boys surrounding the booth were to be believed.

Finally, in the last exhibition hall, I found the artists. I began with a quick walkabout, to see who-all was there. I spotted some future MMMoMMA acquisitions, and some real dreck.

First were the helmets. As noted in my previous post, Biltwell invites artists to paint and display painted helmets, which are then offered for sale.

I failed to make note of artists’ names. My apologies to them.
This being the David Mann Memorial Chopperfest, it just makes sense to honor the man.
Imma take a wild-assed guess that these were by Wayne Wreck! 😏
Some gorgeous work!
But then….
….what to my wondering eyes should appear….
….but Lyndell Dean Wolff’s contribution to the helmet show! I knew it was his even at a glance because I’d seen the prelim work on his Facebook page.

There were a great many artists’ work on display, and some great pieces.

David ‘Huggy Beahr’ Hanson, who passed away last year, was being honored at the 2024 Chopperfest. This is oil pastel on walnut by artist Cynthia Polk.
Cynthia Polk’s tribute to David Mann.
Anthony Hicks, who is also mentioned in a recent MMMoMMA Facebook post. I want to pay more attention to what this fellow’s doing!
I failed to get this artist’s name, as well. The print is signed Bloody.TPN….? 🤷🏻‍♀️
Finally, it was time to introduce myself to Lyndell Dean Wolff.

When I approached Lyndell Dean Wolff’s booth in the exhibition hall, I saw that my portrait was hanging on the portable chain link fence that backstopped the artists’ displays. We’d never met IRL, so with Lyndell looking on, I gestured at the portrait with my cane and said ‘That’s an ugly sumbitch right there.’

‘Sturgis Run, ’87’ by Lyndell Dean Wolff (2024) acrylic on foamboard

Lyndell said ‘That’s Bill James from Austin’ as he was getting to his feet. It seemed like he was prepared to defend his subject’s honor or his art, or both, and it took him a moment to comprehend that I was saying ‘I’m Bill James from Austin,’ but then all joy broke loose.

He and his sweetie, Sharon, were just amazed that I would travel that far just to meet him, but I told them, as I told you at the top of the post, ‘How many portraits of me are artists gonna paint in my lifetime? I couldn’t miss this!’

From left to right: artist Lyndell Dean Wolff, Early Rider Bruce Shroeder and your humble narrator, leaning on a cane his nephew Devon custom-crafted for him and looking utterly exhausted. You’d think I’d been bustin’ my ass all week, and then taken a hell-for-leather drive across half the continent! 😏
BTW, check out Lyndell’s artwork hanging behind us, and then check out his websites. Damn, he’s good, and I’d like to see him get the recognition he deserves!
This is Lyndell’s own page, with galleries, biography, et cetera.

We sat there and visited for a couple of hours — the great open-ended visiting I love best — talking about our lives, our motorcycle exploits, our work…. After a while we were joined by a fellow named Bruce, who rode with the Early Riders. Bruce could talk for England, as they say. He kept up a running monolog about people I’ve never met in places I’ve never been, and rarely paused for breath. I like a good yarn, but Bruce beat all I ever heard!

As we sat and visited, this fellow motored by. He claimed he was test-riding the prototype 2035 Harley-Davidson bagger, for when all us Boomers are too pooped to crawl up on our motorcycles anymore!

As the afternoon waned so did the crowds, and Lyndell and Sharon started to pack up. I gave them some Shovel Shop ‘Watch for Biker’ t-shirts I’d carried out there for them, we said our goodbyes, and I hit the highway east, retracing my steps back to Texas. It was a real pleasure to get to meet them both, and share that wonderful afternoon with them.

From left to right: your humble narrator with a portrait of a much younger him, artist Lyndell Dean Wolff and Sharon. Do I look sleepy? I think I look sleepy. 😵‍💫

Took it a little easier going home — a night in the same hotel in Palm Springs, and another in El Paso — but I did my best to make up that time on the road.

Leaving LA.
It’s not just me, is it?
Actually, just last week I saw a post about this ‘mountain’ on a Facebook page, so I know it’s not just me! 😎
Gotta make up time somehow, right? I’d actually hit 110, but by the time I raised my camera I was already losing speed. However, in West Texas most of the traffic was running 95, so I wasn’t that far outta line!
Welcome back to Austin. Just part of the reason we’re leaving after all these years, but this shyte definitely plays a part! 🤬