The SIN Biker

Motorcycle gangs taking on a more sinister image

2007-10-14T16:30:00.000+08:00

They started off as groups of pals with a common interest in bikes, but now are linked with fights and secret societies
By Ben Nadarajan

THEY zip around on flashy motorcycles, race each other and talk for hours about their beloved two-wheelers over beer. But motorcycle gangs, or Mat Rempit, are fast losing their fairly tame image here as a more sinister picture emerges.

Last month, six members of the Onyx gang were jailed and caned for killing a 46-year-old technician from a rival gang. Three members are still on the run. Prosecutors called the crime the 'most horrific gang killing in recent years'. That vicious assault in Central Square in September last year - which left the victim with at least 78 wounds - was not an isolated gang clash.

The police said bike gangs in recent years have been involved in a 'handful' of illegal incidents such as fighting in public. They did not give details on how many such cases there have been, but a spokesman said they have increased enforcement action against them.

Some gang members of several bike gangs told The Sunday Times of a violent incident last month when a member's wedding led to a fist-fight with a motorist who had been stuck in traffic because of the convoy of about 100 bikes following the wedding motorcycle.

Bike gangs have been around for more than 20 years. They started as peaceful groups of pals with a common interest in bikes. They would attend race events overseas and undertake long-distance road trips to Malaysia and Thailand.

Back then, there were only about 10 gangs, but this figure has since grown to at least 20.

ABCs of MRMC

2007-08-06T17:39:00.000+08:00

RDMC Poker Run

2007-08-05T02:31:00.000+08:00

For friends.

Merry Christmas Bikers!

2006-12-11T18:19:00.000+08:00

Good Girls Wear Black

2006-11-07T18:10:00.000+08:00

Babes from the East

2006-07-30T21:43:00.000+08:00

From A Friend...

Never trust anything that bleeds for days and never dies...

The Biker's Code

2006-01-20T09:48:00.000+08:00

... Original Author Unknown

Posted in www.ozbiker.org

It used to be that all bikers shared a common bond, an unspoken code of ethics and behavior that transcended words and was built on actions. There was never a bible written on this Biker's Code and there was no need for such. But the times are a-changin' and there seems to be a lot of new riders out there.

These days the riders you see blastin' down the road are just as likely to be clad in shorts and sneakers as jeans and engineer boots. And the roughest, toughest-looking biker you pull up next to could be your doctor or lawyer and may be wearin' a Rolex watch under his leathers. There's nothing wrong with that, so long as these new riders learn the Code just as we old-timers did.

Being a biker used to be about using your creativity to take a basket case old hawg and using only grit and ingenuity, turning it into a one-of-a-kind eye dazzler, then risking your life on the asphalt on a bike you made yourself out of pride. Bikers wore leather and grease because they knew cagers would just as soon run them down as look at them, so they had to be intimidating.

We were a breed unto ourselves with no union, no support group, and in many cases, no family (they threw us out). We had to make it in the world of our own, against all rules, against mainstream society, and against all odds. We survived and prospered because of the Biker Code and we never took shit from anybody. As an old scooter bro once said, "It's every tramp's job to school the young. How else are they gonna know a Panhead from a bed pan?"

With that in mind, we bring you a primer on the basic two-wheeled Code. Take heed, brothers and sisters, for our Code is a hallowed one filled with honor and loyalty, the likes of which have not been since the days of knighthood:

Don't take any shit. Be kind to women, children and animals, but don't take any bullshit. This is an essential part of being a biker. It has to do with respect and honor. Anyone can be a quick-tempered fool. Be cool, stand tall and backup what you say with action.

Never lie, cheat or steal. Another way of saying this is to always tell the truth.

Bikers are always the greasy bad guys in the movies, but every real biker knows that his word is his bond. Your word is all you have in life that is truly yours. Guard it carefully and be something noble, for you are a true knight of the road.

Don't snitch. If you see a wrong, fight it yourself, if you are about anything. You'll take care of problems yourself and never feel the need to snitch someone off. Snitches are the lowest life forms on earth, right up there with biker thieves.

Don't Whine. Absolutely no one likes or respects a whiner. Another way to say this is hold your mud. Still another way to think of it is, "Don't sweat the small stuff" Most of life's little inconveniences work themselves out whether you whine or not.

Keep your chin up, dammit! You're a biker, not some lowly snail.. Never say die and never give up. Whether it's in a fight, a debate, or a business deal, no matter how bad it gets, a biker never gives up.

Help others. When a brother or sister is broken down by the side of the road, always stop and help them. Even moral support, if that is all you can give, is better than riding on by. Remember life is about the journey, the ride, not getting there. You already are there. And don't just help bikers, show the world that we are better than our image portrays us. Courtesy costs you nothing and gives you everything.

Stick to your guns. Do what you say you'll do, be there when you say you will. This is called integrity. This also goes back to standing for something. Like the song says, "You've got to stand for something or you'll fall for anything."

Life is not a drill. Yeah, this ain't no dress rehearsal. This is life -- go out and take big bites of it. You've got no time to lose and bikers don't stand around waiting for the party to come to them. You only go around once. Tomorrow you could be road kill, thanks to a chain smoker asleep at the wheel of his Caddy. Live life now, make the most of each moment.

All right, now let's review.

• You are a biker, a modern-day knight of the road.

• Protect the weak, walk tall and stand proud.

• Your word is your bond.

• Stick to your guns.

• Don't take any shit.

• Life is not a drill.

Now go forth and ride. When in doubt, ride. That's what we do...ride.

If you want to ride around in a Day-Glo Hawaiian shirt and sandals, go for it, but if you intend to look like a idiot, at least don't act like an idiot.

These commandments are just a few of the broad strokes, there is a lot more to being a biker than buying a bike. If you just buy a bike, you are a motorcyclist. Being a biker is a way of life, a proud way of life we hold in high regard with a burning passion for the open highway.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL BIKERS

2005-12-23T16:05:00.000+08:00

MRMC 2005/06

LIVE WITH HONOUR

RIDE WITH PRIDE

The City Biker

2005-11-22T08:34:00.000+08:00

Being a biker is not all positive. On the negative side, it instils a certain amount of disdain for cities and mainstream life.
From a biker's point of view, what could be so great about the city? A concrete jungle full of traffic jams and tall buildings filled with uniformed office workers, the shirts and ties putting in long hours. What's so great about having a ridiculously expensive luxury automobile or sportscar if you're just going to end up stuck in bumper to bumper traffic? What's so great about putting in those long hours of overtime to make loads of money if you'll never have time do anything meaningful with it?

A quote from Patrick Swayze's character in the (otherwise shallow) film "Point Break" nicely sums up this feeling: "It's about us against the system, the system that destroys the human spirit. We show those dead souls, inching along the highway in their metal coffins, that the human spirit survives, survives in us."

Live with Honor, Ride with Pride.

The Allure of the Biker Guy

2005-10-20T16:39:00.000+08:00

By Amy Keyishian

We’ve all heard that women want a guy who’s tall, dark and handsome. But maybe it’s time to update that to “tall, dark and handsome—and on a Harley.” Because it seems that since the days of the flicks The Wild One and Easy Rider, a guy on a bike has held a special kind of bad-boy appeal. In fact, in a recent Match.com survey, “motorcycle” was the second most-popular term that women used when searching through online profiles.

So we decided to see why it is that a two-wheeled scream machine ranks so high. Dr. Kate Wachs, a Chicago psychologist and the author of Relationships for Dummies, says, "Motorcycles are still perceived as rebellious, tough, and strong—but, unlike in the past, they're now much more socially acceptable." Like tattoos, motorcycles are often the hidden fun-factor in otherwise respectable citizens. Here, the full story on their allure.

Guys with motorcycles have a little extra oomph.
There's no doubt about it: A motorcycle signifies a little extra ingredient in a guy—a little extra testosterone in a world of sensitive men. Hey, sensitive metrosexuals are great, but some women still like a little cave with their man. "A man on a bike exudes independence, self-reliance, and fearlessness," explains Michelle Midyette of Santa Fe. "He has nothing but leather between him and certain harm—clearly, he freely embraces risks and has a lust for life." Yes, that rebel vibe can work its magic. But of course, this little extra oomph can be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he's more masculine than the average pencil-pusher; on the other hand, "you need the tough-boy exterior balanced by a kinder, softer side when you're off his ride," observes Dennie Hughes, relationship columnist at USA Today and author of Dateworthy: Get the Relationship You Want. No problem, says Midyette: "Almost all the bikers I've ever known — and I make sure to introduce myself to most that cross my path — have been sweet, big-hearted, intelligent men.”

Guys with motorcycles offer instant invigoration.
Riding along on a bike, you can feel of the wind in your... er, helmets, which makes a lot of women swoon. "I don't care if it's raining, snowing, whatever—if I am in a bad mood and my biker says 'get your leathers on,' and five minutes later I'm catching the wind, that's always a mood-booster," says Georgia Tillery of Ocean Beach, CA. "There's nothing like that kind of wind blowing in my face—even the dirt in my pores and the occasional bug in my teeth is worth it," agrees Christine Hall of Carlsbad, CA.

Guys with motorcycles thrive on spontaneity.
A guy with a bike is no doubt the sort of fella who’s likely to say, “Let’s go for a ride” on the spur of the moment. If the mood strikes to head for the hills, the seashore, or anywhere else, he’s likely to seize the moment on his bike. And he’ll take his date along for the fun. "With a motorcycle, you're guaranteed two things: Speed and convenience," says Mark Byron of Los Angeles, so you can go wherever your whim and wheels want to take you. Another benefit: "It's a lot easier to find parking close to a restaurant," points out Max Perez of San Francisco—making dinners out all the more convenient.

Guys with motorcycles are the only match for ...girls with motorcycles!
Of course, tons of women have motorcycles themselves and are avid riders—and that's why they search for biker guys: To complement their sassy self-image. "Of course I have to search for a guy with a bike," says JoMarie Spagnola of Atlanta, GA. "Who else is going to keep up with me on my 2001 Yamaha V-Star?" Just remember this, says Hughes: "Between two motors, the wind, and neither of you wanting to get too distracted from the road, motorcycle riding doesn't exactly make for meaningful conversation." Make sure you've got other things in common besides four-stroke engines, otherwise you might be headed for a relationship ditch.

Guys with motorcycles make even the most empowered women feel girly.
In this day and age, women are the masters of our own destiny. No longer do we look to men for power, permission, or affirmation. And as great as that is, there's a part of many of us that likes to be a li'l lady once in a while. "The back of my guy's bike is the only place I'll let a man (literally) take the front seat. I’ll give up my independent power to wrap my hands around his middle and put my trust in him for just that small while," says Amy Kaye of Brooklyn, NY. "It's a little taste of being old-fashioned. That's a great feeling—at least for a little while.”

Dating a biker dude gives a woman an excuse to tap her wild side.
If you’ve ever wondered about what your bad-girl side would look like, this is the opportunity to find out. Surely you won’t be hopping on the back of a Harley in a camisole, prairie skirt and heels. Nope, this is your chance to shine in jeans, boots—and whatever black leather is lurking in your closet. None to be found? No worries! Anything casual will do the trick. Notes Vin Amendola, a guy with a bike in Middle Village, NY: "At any age, a woman looks sexy and rebellious on a bike—even if, in real life, she just dropped off the kids off at soccer practice." Of course, some women don't dig the biker thing at all. "To tell you the truth… I'd rather date a guy with a convertible," says Dale Chestnut of Albany, NY. "No helmet required, and you can drink coffee and wear short skirts." To which we say: Doll, you're born to be mild.

Amy Keyishian is a New York-based freelance writer who loves anything on wheels, as long as it's a Honda.
Her work has appeared in Cosmopolitan, Maxim, Men’s Fitness and Nerve.com.

The Ride

2005-09-26T16:33:00.000+08:00

THE SPIRIT OF BIKING

By Alex Oliver

THE RIDE - A PERFORMING ART

The ride is the moment when and where pure biking exists. The feelings the ride gives are often akin to those experiences that people enjoy without smiling; yet loud laughter, accompanied by a disbelieving shake of the head, occurs regularly. The grin, inspired by a ceaseless fascination and enjoyment of a bike’s abilities, is the commonest, dominating factor.

A first time rider is a kind of virgin, although a regular rider feels no less trepidation every time they approach their machine with the intention of riding. Obviously not so much on the hack to work, but upon embarking on that specific experience that the manufacturer intended, and what you acquired the bike for in the first place.

Mounting the bike, its weight is hefted between the legs, the way an accomplished person handles a familiar object. The fuel and oil vapours infuse the olfactory senses, seeming to mingle the bike’s blood with your own. The keys chinkle like distant tiny bells as they turn, and tiny lights read off vital signs. The kick-start is an exertive enough effort to alert you to what is about to happen - the electric start a seemingly minimal, incongruous motion. There is a creak of leather (or a rustle of modern fabric) as the rider prepares, then the bike roars like some rudely awakened beast. It is time, perhaps after a droning moment of warming up, to select first gear, hopefully without too much of a crunch.

Then you feel the bite of the clutch under your fingers. Subconsciously, your mind similarly engages in anticipation of the ride. Any sounds the brake parts or drive mechanisms might make are now barely audible under the engine’s rising voice, as you enter a dance with gravity. That wonderful sensation, that you are not going to fall over, of being ripped from the present into a virtual future tense, fills your mind, elbowing out any kind of garbage that has previously occupied your thoughts. Nothing else matters. Traffic fumes, country odours - even the essence of the weather, confirm what the eyes and ears now encounter.

Once under way, the engine warms as you warm to the ride. The heated vapours occasionally rise, to remind you of the mechanistic life you have activated. Something threatens to cross your path and you feather the front brake lever in anticipation. The moment passes and you reach some place where the bike can be allowed to behave like a bike - not some piece of traffic. As a bug whizzes and pops onto the visor, an uncontrollable snort or guffaw bursts under the helmet. You shuffle in the seat. It has begun.

Muscles are shaken out of their stiffened rest as the forks chatter round some uneven bend. A sky check alerts the mind to the weather conditions. Let’s pretend, for the sake of argument, that it’s a dry, bright day. Not one of those where your socks can become horrid damp monsters of the deep boot, nor the kind that hurls frost or snow at you until you become like some wizened tree, bent by the wind and decorated with frosting. You begin to move more quickly.

The tarmac comes up, then drops away, as your manoeuvres greet the road’s varied directions, guiding the projectile through corners. It is that sensation that can put some people off, but the rider wills it to be ever more animated, because this culminates in a smoothness. Then your mind does to you what it does to a child, engrossed and undisturbed in happiness. You begin to sing. YOU have not selected the music. It is the jukebox of the cosmos that tunes your unconscious to some forgotten radio station...and a silly song ensues.

Any number of incidents and events become part of your life now. You are launched into a reality not necessarily your own. Where you can rule, you take the road as you find it, not how someone or something else predicts or infers. While the road has its limits in length and breadth, your freedom becomes absolute.

The ride begins simply with technique; the functions enacted by the rider necessary for riding the machine. As the rider becomes aware of its nuances, they adjust their behaviour instinctively. This is the interpretation of the machine’s intimate language by the rider. It talks of the road through the suspension and steering, and of its requirements through the exhaust note and other engine noises. The rider replies by adjusting their use of the controls to suit whatever the bike is asking. Understanding bike talk allows the rider to interpret its essential needs and improves the ride.

What is known as the knack is integrated into that behaviour, which begins the development of style. A rider’s style is what differentiates them from others, whether they use similar or different machines. Perfecting style brings the best out of the machine. It creates a performance. The performing art of motorcycling.

This is described, in the physical movement of the machine through space, as a dance. Watching groups of riders, swaying patterns can be made out, through corners and over rises. The hands and feet become significant, like in Indian or Hawaiian dances. They affect the pace of the dance, as the throttle hand describes an arc, and the fingers open and close over the clutch and brake levers. These movements are interspersed by patterns made by the feet in gear-changing and braking. Imperceptible pressure on the footrests and handlebars make the bike dive from side to side, while hanging off the seat is a more notable announcement of what will happen next - that is, a fast bend. Even more delicious is the counter steer - when the bars turn one way, but gravity and momentum throw it in the opposite direction. The spinning wheels (often with that hypnotic reverse effect), the compressing suspension, the mad weaves and slides - are all relative to what each other are doing.

Sometimes the bike gets out of hand. A speed-wobble, tank-slapper, call it what you will, shakes the bike’s head. The handlebars oscillate violently from left to right, and the vibrations can unseat the rider, throw them down the road, even take their life. The instinctive impulse is to slow the bike until it becomes more manageable. More experienced riders will nail the throttle wide open, as a bike under power is the most balanced of all. They know that a limp throttle hand, especially in a corner, will create a bike that flops like a rag doll. The input of power is the most positive and exciting route to Kioka - a Japanese word meaning: “At one with the beast.”

An accidental slide takes you where you don’t want to go. Again, the instinct is to fight it, but again, the rider of a thousand rides has learned to steer into it, allowing whichever wheel that stepped out of line to find adhesion again. Time gets distorted. It only takes a millisecond for the bike to get unsettled, but knowledge and courage know that another millisecond of patience, rather than inappropriate action, is all it takes to correct things. Deliberate use of aberrant behaviour enters the educated palette. Dipping the clutch, wrenching on the power and a tug at the handlebars can lift the front wheel. It paws the air like a prancing horse - except that a horse can’t do this while it is hurtling forwards. At a standstill, high revs, a slight lean and a dropped clutch let the rear wheel spin up, and with the front brake held on, the bike turns in an abrupt circle. The rider hops on one foot as a power-circle, or doughnut is made. An upright bike under the same conditions will spin the rear wheel in a burnout. The right amount of excessive throttle in a bend also lets the rear spin, almost imperceptibly, creating a power-slide as the wheels get out of alignment. Aspects of the ride may seem very aggressive, but there is a finesse, which even competition riders acquire, that can smooth out the wildness into a calculated, seemingly easy ride.

In this unconscious flurry, it would be pedantic to mark how someone rode to work. Yet we often pride ourselves on a smoother or quicker execution of the most mundane journey; or laugh if we rode like a complete pillock. Some rides are forgettable; others stay with us, whether performed by a hero, a friend or ourselves. Some incident will spring to mind just as someone might recall a tune. They might grip imaginary handlebars and make bike-noises, living the moment again. In the dance of the motorcycle, we are seeking such moments, and they come so readily. The incongruous also comes to the fore. Somewhere on a ride, a tiny drop of fluid might appear at the end of your nose. With a slight opening of the visor, it can be dabbed away with a gloved fingertip. Why does that memory take precedence over the time you thought you were going to freeze to death?

Motorcycling has been compared to aviation. Unlike the car and more like a plane, a bike can defy gravity. It banks into corners, rather than being thrown sideways by g-forces. It can swoop, dive and soar, even become airborne, though the flight cannot be sustained. Stunt riders deliberately get the wheels crossed-up in flight and an accomplished rider knows to land rear wheel first. As earth-bound sensations go, the manoeuvrability and speed of biking separates it from mountaineering and the like, because the majority of people are able to do it - at any time.

There is a theory by someone called Gestalt. He says that when we’re listening to music, although the notes are played separately, we don’t necessarily hear them separately. We tend to simply register the tune. Other drivers, signs and road surface conditions, are like notes, the road is the tune.

Drivers use their physical and mental attributes to assess and organise stimuli - notes - into levels of importance. They look beyond the machine they are piloting and beyond the hundred yards they are in. This has become known among Bikers as the thousand yard stare. The mind is working in four dimensions: three in the physical world, one in the mental. The Biker’s mind knows that every situation is a different tune to be learned. Some notes are memorable like the direction the road goes or its surface; others are constantly renewed improvisations that demand attention. Like jamming musicians, Bikers enjoy riding because of the variables and the freedom to regulate the ride at their own pace.

There is a further musical aspect to riding. Bikes speak, even sing in many languages; a two-stroke stammers, and cries like a bird of prey, a four-stroke makes thunder. Single cylinder engines of two or four stroke design, larger or smaller capacity, all sing differently, the same variations applying to twin, triple and four-cylinder configurations. Alterations from standard usually give the exhaust note greater presence, and freer-breathing carburettors roar or snarl rather than hiss. High-revving multi-geared bikes allow the rider to play tunes, as the engine-note rises and falls through gear-changes, under acceleration and deceleration. Whatever bike it is, it will growl from lower revs, and howl at a certain engine speed, where power out-put is at its optimum best. After other parts of the ride, like introduction or verses, this ‘power band’ creates a sound that inspires like the chorus of a national anthem would a patriot. It is the battle-cry of a warrior who is certain of victory.

Solo riders can immerse themselves in the sound and feel of their ride. The induction and combustion noises and engine vibration fill the ear most of the time, with the occasional wall or other reflective surface throwing the exhaust note back at them. Wind-rush plays differently over various helmet designs or the bare head. A tilt or turn of the neck alters these tones, and faired bikes give opportunities for wind variation, as engine noises are amplified below the screen, and are swept away as you sit up.

Bring more bikes into the dance and it becomes orchestral, yet syncopated in the way an Indian raga unfolds. Besides making different sounds, bikes occupy different space. As one is on a rising throttle coming out of a bend, one following might be decelerating into it, its engine note falling. Simultaneous passage round longer bends and on straights will allow some constants, the notes at a steady pitch. These auditory effects add to the visual concertina effect, where braking bikes bunch up into a bend, and accelerating bikes seem to leave the others behind. The use of the gearbox brings a staggered pattern of rising and falling engine sounds. The more bikes there are, the more voices follow in a round; the type of tune where the performers begin later and later. The variations in their speed produce the musical movements of sound - like largo and accelerando.

There is an added exhilaration when another’s sound enters your field of hearing. From the start of the ride, when engines burst into life one after another, there is a pronounced feeling that something is happening. It is important, exciting and encouraging, as even the machines acknowledge each other - by making similar sounds as they get under way. A gentle ride produces an idle if not relaxed feeling of power, being under control. The more vigorous the ride, the more the engines actually seem to say that they’re enjoying themselves. Aggressive ripping, growling and snorting, rises into rebellious yells and screams of pleasure. It is bestial, a predatory song about power. Handling that power is the greatest turn-on for the lover of biking art.

Push the limits of tyre adhesion, and they will join with yelps and squeals. Take the engine too far, and you can sense a tortured wail. But keep it ‘on the cam’ as some describe it, and you will never, ever want to hear an end to its singing.

Visually for the rider, there is the blur of scenery, the prey of other vehicles ahead. While the nearest riders in a company fill the rider’s frame of sight, the onlooker can watch a snaking procession. The individual hears the petrol tank act as a soundboard for their own motor. Other riders’ sounds come and go with the proximity of their company. For the eavesdropper, whether they be spectators at some competition or at the roadside, the group can be heard as a whole. A knowing ear can trace the mode of riding, the actual manoeuvre and pace, without visual contact. The approach from distance, the rise in volume, then the Doppler effect, all climb onto the change in sound with the passing of each machine. Zamm, zzamm, zamm; they rip past and re-emphasise statements of presence and power, speed and determination.

The only discernible rhythm occurs whilst engines are ticking over - the thud of a single, the chunter of multi-cylinders. This is when the explosion of each cylinder’s firing becomes distinct, isolated. It is this rhythm that becomes crunched up in time to become the constant note of the engine at work. At the ride’s end, the buzz falls into various chuffs and irregular, asthmatic wheezing as the music stops - the silence only punctuated with the ticking sounds of cooling metal. Knowing the exhilaration of riding sounds, it becomes understandable why anyone would buy the sound-track of a TT race, or watch televised competition with the sound going through their stereo system (even if they wouldn’t admit to it).

Biking has also been compared to writing, in that the road is the blank sheet on which the rider composes a narrative line. Tyre tracks left in impressionable surfaces describe snaking paths, yet no two texts, even by the same rider on the same machine on the same route are identical. There are rules, like corners and hills, which dictate the grammar of a ride, punctuating it, but there is no right or wrong way to write the piece. Unlike the masses of artworks and musical instruments consigned to the attic of obscurity, even the most amateur machine can be regularly aired. The road is like the visitor’s book of life, where anyone can sign in. Track days, designed to let ordinary riders taste uninhibited speed, allow riders to express themselves on the same pad as the writing greats, to doodle on the same canvas as the masters.

In the dark, the lights create lantern-dances that hypnotise. Photographers regularly capture the blurred trail of red tail-lights along the road. For the rider, their world decreases into a globe of light. The warning lights swish in your peripheral vision. Other lights guide like beacons. In the city, street and neon lights flow over chrome and polished panels, like stars in a placid lake. Day or night, reflections in plate glass windows can distract. They reflect the rider the way a movie camera somehow elevates us to star status; flattering, unreal, absorbing the attention.

On the ride, only the bike’s thirst might rein you in, by which time, you are probably more ready for a break than you realised. Whether it’s journey’s end, or a stage on a longer voyage, you rumble up with a feeling of satisfaction that is only tinged by the decreased momentum. Can this be it, ride over? A look back at your silent companion reassures you that it won’t be the last.

All art-forms can enrapture; deliberate ones, occasioned by people, or the accidental, found in nature. They arouse various emotions. The final master stroke of biking art is the palette of emotions driven by (natural) excitement and the gamut of physical sensations encountered in (deliberate) participation. Once a ride is finished, the rider has gone through such an uplifting and invigorating experience, that even the grin can fade. A tear might fill the eye, but it is not one of sorrow. It has been put there by the thorny wind. With the activity over, the enjoyment doesn’t fade, it continues in a different temperament. Any company that has shared the ride behaves similarly. So much is felt, but so little is said. It is not a time to analyse, but a time for a different ride, thoughtful, reflective, turning inward on an emotional buzz. Strenuous or not, riding a motorcycle, defying gravity, powering through the elements, changes the persona. The first ever ride does this and subsequent ones do it repeatedly. When someone becomes famous, climbs a mountain or goes through any similar conquest, they become imbued with something that others can’t always describe - yet they know that person has changed. The ride is one of those things.

Easy Rider

2005-09-21T12:13:00.000+08:00

With perfect timing, the film Easy Rider was released in 1970. Just as the 1960s had flung the doors of perception wide open, Easy Rider showed how many minds had remained firmly shut. The term Easy Rider is US slang, which according to some is for a prostitute, while others claim it is for a man who lives off the takings of prostitutes. Either way, it was an irony perhaps missed by UK audiences. Its UK release had followed hot on the heels of The Wild One, which had been postponed by the censors. Being some fifteen years old already, The Wild One had looked comparatively jaded. Easy Rider, however, had a resounding impact in the UK and US. The ideologies it conveyed reflected more relaxed attitudes, among and towards Bikers. The contentions between motorcycle gangs were being replaced by the greater brotherhood. These were political times, and subcultures were beginning to be constructed out of social rather than entirely selfish motives.

Although it was made in America, Easy Rider successfully engaged with UK Biker-Hippy audiences. An analysis of this film for a university study is where this book began. The film reflected a joining of Bikers and Hippies that had occurred in the real world, and was aimed directly at them. It was a visual, almost non-verbal experience. A plot was replaced by a string of scenarios that would be familiar to the audience. The story covers the encounters of Wyatt Earp (played by Peter Fonda), and Billy The Kid (played by Dennis Hopper), as they travelled from California to New Orleans. The Harley-Davidson choppers they rode endeared the film and the two central characters to Biker audiences. A third character, George Hanson (played by Jack Nicholson) joined them briefly. Their search for freedom ended in their deaths, caused by straight, or ordinary people. This drove home the message of the film: peaceful people versus mass-society.

Through the interviews conducted for the university study, notable distinctions between Bikers, Hippies, and Rockers, and those who were not bona fide members of these subcultures, were made. The main features were that:
- Bikers are people who find a sense of individual freedom and a feeling of unity through the enjoyment of motorcycling.
- Hippies are politically aware and believe in societal freedom.
- Rockers are the cultural descendants of Teddy-Boys, who got into bikes through the rock and roll scene, whist it is also true that some Bikers became Rockers.
- Others, though similarly dressed, weren’t the genuine item. They engaged in the image, not the ethos, on a part-time basis.

Some Biker types went to see Easy Rider expecting to see footage of motorcycling. The steady pace of the bikes throughout was a let-down for the speed-freak. Other Bikers were aware that the film had a message, and went to enjoy it, if not to check that the message met with their own ideals - and approval. Hippy interest was also engaged through the message of freedom. Postmodern films are said to be low culture, like TV trash. But Easy Rider became high culture and singular in meaning, at least to its intended audience (self again, thankfully included). It showed how attempts to create peaceful culture were destroyed through narrow-mindedness and discrimination. By entertaining Biker-Hippies through their own culture, the film not only gratified their needs, but also echoed their own social comment, by portraying their beliefs.

For the others, including the general public, it was purely a cinematic experience, and their involvement ended as the credits rolled up. Its appeal for these mass audiences was situated in curiosity. Their partial pleasure was to watch the UK Bikers and Hippies watching a film about US Biker-Hippies. They wished to view strange worlds, or were buying into the mystique of subculture, rather than being pro-active in its development.

The books and other films about Outlaws coloured some people’s expectations of what the film would be about. But, unlike in previous road movies, the violent image of Bikers was not reflected. Instead, violence came from members of straight society, enacted upon the Biker-Hippies. Through this kind of incident, the film explored a truer side of Biker-Hippy culture. It represented a shift in the us-and-them paradigm, through the elusiveness of liberty in an industrial world.

Film making and society were undergoing crucial changes. These factors prepared the audience for a new movie genre. Social analysts had agreed that they had to look at new situations in new ways. The films of the time also had to be analysed differently. Earlier movies would allow the camera a lingering gaze at heroes and heroines, but in Easy Rider, the camera work is more evenly distributed among scenery and other characters. Postmodern filmmaking relied on joining segments together, into a patchwork. This gives a different feel towards what is going on in the film, and provides a different aspect to how the minds of the audiences worked.

Rather than feeding aggression, it described alienation through the Big Idea. This was an ideology based on freedom, that formed the adhesive for the combined Biker-Hippy cultures. Hopper, Fonda, Nicholson and others involved in the movie considered themselves part of it, giving the film a quality of social comment over an undercurrent of dissent. This connected directly with the minds of its subcultural audiences, and spoke in new ways to anyone who felt ostracized by or apart from society. Easy Rider was within but not of the mass media.

It has been suggested that movies extend one single sense in high definition. Through this, audience participation is supposed to be restricted. It causes the audience to feel isolated, which would result in the ‘detribalising’ of minority cultures. This meant that Easy Rider would detract from, rather than add to the stability of the subcultural audience. However, through changed cinematic technique and repositioned ideologies, it promoted a bonding instead. By minimalising the heroes, it struck up a political empathy with the story. The people in the university study mostly felt that though the story was not true to life, the film lived up to their expectations. It used the stereotype without patronising them, which gave realism to the Big Idea.

The sound track was a crucial element in the understanding of the story, and in the film’s popularity. The lyrics in Born To Be Wild, by Steppenwolf, embody a motif of freedom shared by the film and its intended audiences. The line: “Like a streak of lightnin’/Heavy metal thunder/Racin’ with the wind/And the feelin’ that I’m under.” - captured the essence of Biker-Hippy beliefs. The music alone celebrated their ideologies and reflected their thinking. It created excitement among them; they were united against the straight people, and peaceful revolution seemed imminent in real life.

Another performer used on the soundtrack was Jimi Hendrix, whose outrageous clothes suited the Hippy scene, while his aggressive guitar sound excited Bikers. His song, If Six Was Nine, was played over bike-riding shots through a town. The lyrics struck out at straight society: “White-collared conservative walking down the street/They point their plastic finger at me/They hope that soon my kind will drop and die/But hey/I’m gonna wave my Freak flag high.”

Society and the media regarded bikers and Hippies as freaks, but people who considered themselves individuals were using the term freak. The two main characters were insulted by hicks calling them freaks. This is ironic, as the hicks wouldn’t understand that it was hip to be called freak. No-one minded the freak epithet; it was more ambiguous than other stereotyping. Hendrix’s If Six was Nine also encapsulates this mood by stating: “If all the Hippies, cut of all their hair/I don’t care/‘Cos I’ve got my own world to live through/And I ain’t gonna copy you.” Hippies had started out as individuals, but as the high street shops began selling ready-made Hippy clothes, the natural fluidity of cultural evolution moved them along. London’s fashionable Carnaby Street was regarded as far from reality. It was a consumer outlet, not the soul of Hippiedom. Easy Rider went with that kind of thinking, and spoke the language of the freak, not the weekend trendy.

The clothing worn by the characters in the film was also an astute choice that reflected realism. Hippy and Biker cultures had used a mixture of images like 1920’s dresses, flying jackets and other clothes, that were seemingly out of context. Known as bricolage, this gave out a message that was incongruous. The Billy character went for the fringed suede jacket and cowboy hat. The fringed jacket is an item of American Indian clothing adopted by both US and UK Hippies and Bikers. American Indian culture held them fascinated; the Indians were their idylls of freedom. Paradoxically, country-hicks (who might also wear fringed suede jackets) were disliked by American Hippies, while at the same time an element of progressive country music (like The Byrds) was enjoyed. It was the wild bush-dweller ideal, not the xenophobic isolation of the backwoods that appealed to youth.

Bikers understood the significance of borrowing Hippy clothes, but it confused the rest of the world. The convergence of these subcultures became a layered patchwork (just like the jeans they were wearing). Understood by its members, it compounded the attitude of normal people who still insisted on a pretence of gender mix-up when they encountered longhaired men. One of the thugs in the film confirms this, saying of Billy: “I bet he squats to pee.”

Wyatt’s clothes and bike were bedecked with the Stars and Stripes. Because the film sits astride the Atlantic, the meaning of the flag is confused. American Hippies despised and burned it during anti-Vietnam War protests. At the same time, British Bikers associated it with Harley-Davidson motorcycles, which some liked. They wanted in with US Biker culture, believing the American grass was greener. But being free in the UK did not involve being shot, which is how Wyatt and Billy die in the film, and how many US youths were dying in real life. The anger of UK Biker-Hippies wanted this heroism, while their philosophy despised its inherent violence.

Easy Rider’s vocabulary includes metaphors like scene and cool. Once ordinary people began using hip language, it lost its value. Fortunately for the makers of Easy Rider, their Biker-Hippy audience did not regard Wyatt and Billy as ordinary.

In his forthright and accurate book, Bikers: The Birth of an Outlaw, Maz Harris described an air of excitement surrounding the film. He said: “Easy Rider gripped our world by the neck and shook it around. Nothing was ever the same again. It provided a clarity of image, a style which hitherto had been lacking, and it banished everything that had gone before into total obscurity.” As a founder of the UK Hell’s Angels, Harris’ lucid comment exposes that loyalty to the ideals of the early fraternities that genuine Bikers cling to.

In another book, about the making of Easy Rider, Lee Hill said: “Easy Rider uncannily documents an era that was in the process of ending before it ever truly began.” He refers to the death of the Biker and Hippy stereotypes, which further shows that people were beginning to understand genuine as opposed to media-fabricated Bikers. He says how they were evolving from and splintering into other subgroups in the same moment. Changes were happening, however, the most poignant aspect of Easy Rider was that someone had at last identified the true nature of the whole alternative crisis.

Cultural studies and films have previously cast Bikers as working class people who are often deviants. The Wild One depicts an American example. But a cross-section of any Biker gathering represents a broad selection of social backgrounds. People within the Hippy movement also came from different social strata. Both groups were basically ordinary people, the major difference (between them and straight society) being that they would stand up for their rights. The only class element in Easy Rider is represented by the restraints of income. In the opening scene, the small bikes ridden by Wyatt and Billy represent the Biker desire for larger (more expensive) ones. They also needed money to be free from the ties of having to earn a living.

They achieve this by selling cocaine. There are ironies between this and the Steppenwolf track, The Pusher, played immediately following the drug-dealing episode at the beginning of the film. The lyrics concern a hatred for addictive-drug dealers: “Well I smoked a lotta grass/Mm-lord I popped a lotta pills/But I never touched nothin’/That my spirit could kill.” With the chorus: “God damn/God damn/The pusher.” While this is an admission to the use of soft drugs, it is a denial of addictive drugs. The tensions within this moral dimension are highlighted in the film’s drug-deal, because cocaine is regarded as addictive: by Wyatt, Billy and the intended audience. Drug taking occurs in the film as a leisure activity and a mystical experience. Rather than being enacted as shallow and cocky, it represents that which Timothy Leary had expounded in the 1960s; “Turn on, tune in and drop out.” Bikers recognised this despite their hedonistic reputation.

Used later in the film, the lyrics of the Byrds song Wasn’t Born to Follow, are at one with nature and drug-oriented: “Where the trees have leaves of prisms/That break the light in colours/That no-one knows the names of.” Nature and the environment were notable Hippy concerns, however motorcyclists were already keen outdoor types, if not enthusiastic conservationists.

As they set off on their new choppers, Wyatt noticed his watch had stopped and he threw it away. A Hippy interviewee for the study said that: “This signals not just a break from material possessions, but also a disregard for time itself, something natural to a free spirit.” It also inferred that with the money Wyatt and Billy now had, they were free of financial constraint. Whether coincidental or not, the watch incident occurs among some standing stones. These have long been associated with a prehistoric knowledge of time and astronomy. Because of the interest Hippy culture had in such things, it could easily have been deliberate: time (the watch) discarded in a timeless place.

The myth of free love was accurately represented, when Billy and Wyatt stayed at a Hippy commune. They met girls, went skinny-dipping with them, and as a natural consequence it is inferred but not physically shown that they made love. This was how it actually worked, not in the way people were imagining it: any male with a flash car or bike and/or drugs thought they could attract females and lure them into sexual encounters. Free love was just a natural progression from a chemically right encounter, not something that could be grabbed off the street - the latter being purely sexual favours.

The third character, George Hanson, turned out to be quite hip for a drunkard and small-town lawyer. He was socially and politically aware, and understood American greed and the manipulation of social mores to meet selfish ends. In a brief speech he encapsulated the Big Idea, saying: “Talkin’ about freedom and bein’ free - that’s two different things. I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the market place. ‘Course don’t ever tell anybody they’re not free, cause then they’re gonna get really busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are. Oh yeah, they’re gonna talk to you and talk to you about individual freedom, but they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ‘em.”

George’s part, though short-lived, was indispensable. The essence of his speech and the movie was enhanced by the lyrics of the song It’s alright ma (I’m only Bleedin’), by Bob Dylan, which stated: “Keep it in your mind and not fergit/That it is not he she them or it/That you belong to.” The freedom factor on the street was very much alive, and was aired in connection with the George character.

A scene in a cafe involved some young girls who are attracted to the nomadic Bikers. But other patrons decided they didn’t like their appearance. They later attacked the three characters while they slept. This resulted in George’s death, which was especially poignant because he had only just decided to join Wyatt and Billy in a bid for freedom, and having tried marijuana, would have died stoned. It was also ironic, in that scared individuals had murdered him. After his death, Billy expressed relief, at having not been killed in the attack. He said: “We made it.” But Wyatt replied: “We blew it.” He felt partly to blame for George’s death; it was their misadventure that had caused it, implying a moral responsibility. He was also inferring that through the drug dealing, they’d sold out, and been corrupted by capitalist incentives.

Prior to the attack, George had given Wyatt and Billy the address of Madame Tinkertoy’s whorehouse in New Orleans. When they later arrived in Orleans, they shared LSD with two girls from the brothel. To go with prostitutes should have undermined their moral if not their masculine credibility, but for the gesture it made, in memory of George. During this psychedelic experience, Wyatt had premonitions of their death. This drug-trip scene stands in for the clichéd cinematic dream-sequence. Rather than wash the screen with out-of-focus waves, it was peppered with rapid cuts from within, before and after the scene. According to some people interviewed, this confused the plot a little, because the visual and sound effects were trying to simulate the LSD experience. It included other cinematic break-aways from effects like the fade, by showing forward-flashes of a burning bike instead. Its function as a foresight only becomes apparent at the end of the film. This kind of mental athleticism has since become more commonplace in movie watching.

In real life, Fonda’s mother had committed suicide. He was goaded by Hopper to talk about this in a stoned voice for the trip scene. Recognising a drugged voice created realism for the Biker-Hippies, and morbid curiosity for the voyeuristic others (especially as Wyatt and Billy copulated with the girls in a cemetery, whilst an off-screen voice prayed). On the subject of drugs, all those in the study regarded marijuana as safe and cocaine as dangerous because it was potentially addictive. They revealed that LSD is OK, but in the wrong hands (or minds) it could be trouble.

At the end of the movie, there was sad irony when Wyatt and Billy met their deaths. A country hick in a pick-up shot them as they rode along. The mood does not call for revenge, but alludes to their finding freedom in death. This represented the Biker idiom, Death or Glory. As one interviewee commented: “Had they been killed in a horrific motorcycle accident, it would have simply been fate. But because they were blown away in a senseless, violent murder, we are angry, yet numbed.” This compounded the dissent of both subcultures towards the intolerant nature of mass-society. The lyrics to Roger McGuinn’s song, Ballad of the Easy Rider, acted as a closing statement: “All that he wanted/Was to be free/And that’s the way it/Turned out to be.”

Through Easy Rider’s trans-Atlantic shift we can see how the recent subcultural origins were becoming global - following in the trail of the earlier biking expansion. After a brief peak, they appeared to be succeeded by subsequent youth movements. However, this was mostly an illusion created by the mass-media. While they focused on the next generation, Hippy culture lived on, influencing subsequent generations like the New Romantics. And biking has remained constant as ever, in greater or lesser numbers, whether it is fashionable or not.

Easy Rider took elements of subculture and melded them into a formula that represented the position of its audience in society. Their appearance, life-style and beliefs were up there on the big screen, and although the protagonists were killed, even because of it, it still poked the eye of straight society. Not all the Biker-Hippies who saw it knew someone who’d been killed, but they’d all been criticised or harangued for their appearance and beliefs. The stereotype had now shifted, from Outlaw or Rocker to Biker. It is here, that the mass-media image became stuck. Meanwhile, Biker and Hippy-types, out of all cultural groups, seem the only ones capable of realising that ancient wisdom is not an anachronism.

The Evolution of Motorcycle Culture

2005-09-20T09:02:00.000+08:00

BEING BIKER
An Illustrated History of Motorcycling Culture
By Alex Oliver

THE ORIGINS AND EVOLUTION OF MOTORCYCLE CULTURE
HOW BIKER CULTURE EVOLVED

Past cultures have been built slowly, on factors like how close people live to each other, religious beliefs and even war. But Biker culture represented a new cultural concept. It grew at an accelerated rate, and in more than one place at the same time. Through travel and the media, motorcycling grew beyond the ‘international’ and became globalised. Among other things, it was this rapid spread and growth of a new social identity that created problems, as the world’s collective brain slowly adjusted.

Besides originating in different places, biking was assumed by people from different walks of life. They had no distinctive features, like class, skin colour or skeletal structure. Yet Biker culture’s convergent evolution has produced people who are socially very much alike, even in a global context: Comparatively, Cowboys, Indians, Mongols and Equestrians all differ greatly, even though they all share the culture of the horse.

Other cultures usually have great leaders, who either instigated particular movements or were elected to higher positions. Although biking has its prominent personalities, they have always preferred to retain an equal status to other Bikers. Pomp and ceremony are anathema to the biking ethos.

Because the essence of biking is mobility, it can be viewed as a throw-off from the universal impulse to travel. Ever since the Big Bang, the universe and everything in it has been travelling. Humans have had to get up and go in order to survive, and travel has been responsible for the creation and merging of many cultures.

Although Bikers live in permanent dwellings most of the time, their culture can be likened to nomadism, because it came together and grew out on the road - and in the many different places where Bikers congregated. It was therefore in direct conflict with the way in which other cultures of the late 19th century were being formulated. During this time, Romanies were becoming less and less welcome on the highways and byways. This made it bad timing indeed to be founding a travelling society. True nomads build their lives around Romany-like trading, or the search for food, sometimes dependent on the seasons. Rather than being governed by life’s essentials, travelling motorcyclists assumed their mobility in the search for the perfect road - and for each other. As biking gathered popularity and found its own meeting-places, it became free from the constraints and patterns of geographically static human relationships. A new cultural genre had emerged through mechanised travel, in the pursuit of leisure. The owners of other self-propelled vehicles were behaving similarly, however, their conveyances eventually became accepted by the authorities and public alike. Not so the motor bicycle.

As intelligent beings, people have surpassed the wheel, because the instincts to create works of art and build functional items became naturally integrated. Through that process, human imagination has woven the sparkling threads of culture around the phenomenon of kinetics - the ornate yet rideable custom bike is one example of this. From racing circuits to the back-streets, biking has become a part of human social history. Voltaire said: “If there hadn’t been a God, we’d have invented one.” Out of a more quintessential need, we invented the bike.

Many cultures pass through time along blood-lines. This is not the norm among Bikers, whose affectation more often comes from an encounter with a motorcycle: at any time of life. It is from here that the apprenticed rider assumes a kind of folk-lore. Even though it can provide gainful employment, no individual or group of riders has ever depended solely on biking for survival. Therefore, social conditions have never enforced biking, as they have done with mining, fishing and other work-oriented societies. Neither is there any compulsion to hand it down, as might be found in a religious or tribal belief. Taking up biking and then acquiring the lifestyle is more a random selection, made freshly by each individual as they pick up the torch. The result of this is a lateral, rather than a consecutive spread through time. Biker culture has spread outwards from various epicentres, and is better aligned with the randomness of nature, than the conformity of civilisation.

Because Biker culture grew by accident rather than by design, there was no need for any rules; yet there is a code of conduct. This is enacted as an improvisation; the guidance of the wise, the code of the road - which is common sense gilded by humanitarianism. It was borrowed from the aeons of travelling that had gone before, yet had never been written.

Just why a biking culture came to exist rests in two basic factors. Firstly, when like-minded people get together in leisure time, which is often creative, they naturally develop a degree of camaraderie. Secondly, biking’s position as a public activity caused reactions - often negative - within greater society. This tested the resolve of early Bikers. Rather than cause it to dissipate, it became strengthened. The commonalities between the groups of like-types and the oppression they faced were what caused their culture to evolve through local, national and international phases into a global entity.

Biking began, not with a social misfit trying to burn out and die young, but with an erstwhile venture into the pure delight that vehicular motion inspires. It is in this condition that every Biker finds an inner-self and sense of belonging, and where Biker culture founded itself.

Triumph Return

2005-09-16T14:08:00.000+08:00

Due to the strong worldwide demand for the Triumph Brand, the UK factory based in Hinckley, Leicestershire, are to increase production 25 percent per year over the next five years. This will take production to over 105,000 units per year by 2010.

Great! Hope to see British power cruisers here in Sin City.

Keep up the torque guys!

Stretch and Rake

2005-09-15T12:58:00.000+08:00

Any bike can become a "long" chopper..., even an in-line four engine...yeah.

MRMC Thailand 2004

Once a while, it's good to stretch yerself...

Stretchin' since 1972 ...

A book about motorcycle clubs???

2005-08-31T17:26:00.000+08:00

Got an email from an unknown writer last nite.

The guy wrote:
"Hi Just a few lines to outline my proposed book. First I will outline my background I have been riding bikes for most off my 44 years and have been involved in side patch clubs and some contact with backpatch clubs. I attend as many motorbike rallies’s and parties as possible both in the U.K.and Europe. About this book!! In the past bikers were all tarred with the same brush we were seen as a bunch of thugs with no interest in any one but our self’s and only think of number one. The outsiders see use as lawless animals who eat their young and if you look at us wrong we are going to kill you. One case I know of involves a member of a club in America who was out celebrating his engagement with his long time partner and was involved in an argument with two men. The two men held down and choked him to death. In court they were found not guilty as they thought if they let him up he would attack them. The police withheld the attackers name as they were in fear of reprisals from his club. “And they call us animals.!!!!!”
What we are looking for is input from clubs to show the real club member, no secrets just general information i.e.; club runs, rules, weddings most of all our life style, stories about other brothers in our club, good times and bad times. Don’t get me wrong most club members are like a rattle snake leave them alone and all is cool but push us and shit is going to happen. You would not slap a wolf with its pack watching so don’t cut me up when I am riding with my bro’s and expect to get away with it!!!!
F.T.W. yeah we all feel the same way, as long as we have our bro’s in the club, a full tank and an open road nothing can bother us.
We will let all clubs proof read anything that refers to their club so not to allow possible or future infringement on the specific club's rights.
Respects and ride free"

Well, he was pretty honest wif us so we wrote back..."Piss off!"...well not really. We said we would consider...
Will post here if anything develops.
Ride well you freedom riders out there. Enjoy the comfort and safety SIN CITY offers you. Take it for granted man... Some day your time will come...then prepare to die you.

Damn oil prices up 20% today

2005-08-30T08:43:00.000+08:00

The fuckin' price per petrol litre is now SGD$2.00++. Not really affected as most of us ride to our "friendly" neighbours for gas, food and smokes.
My harley's tank is 19 litres max. Thats freakin' S$38 bucks if I pump in Sin City!!! Conversion to Malaysian cash is RGT$83 bucks. That's enough for a full tank, huge dinner, two packs of smokes and spare change for coffee later...not to mention a cool ride at nite with friends... Go figure.

A big fat middle finger to everyone

2005-08-29T19:05:00.000+08:00

Got to know this bloggin' thing's been around awhile.
So figured why not? No problem with a couple of bikers joinin' this freak fest rite?? So what the fuck will me and the club guys be doin' here? Hmmm...nothin' major probably...

We are just plannin' on keepin a bikers' journal, like the rest of all blog buggers here. Maybe post some pics of bikes, babes, freaks, bangers, rollers, etc etc..

Guess that's all for now. See you on the road. Oh yes, and welcome back to Sin City.

PotHole and crew