Let’s Ride, By Sonny Barger
Sonny Barger with Darwin Holstrom
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Bullriders, Bullshit and a Handy Baton
“Bastard,” she swore softly as she returned the phone to its cradle.”Jim, you dumb-fuck, butt-ugly, slacker bastard.” Nice time to back out on a ride, half-hour before they were to hit theroad. Fine. It was only 150 miles; she was going anyway. In reality, shepreferred to ride alone. Setting her own pace, taking the whole
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Rocket Man
No one in the world is as passionate, talented,knowledgeable, and driven when it comes to Indian Motocycles, than KIWI MikeTomas. He’s a warrior when it comes to the competition between Indian andHarley-Davidson. He’s an Indian restoration expert, an engine manufacturer, amachinist, a welder, designer, you name it. Not only does he cherish everyelement of the
Zeek the Splooty meets up with the Red Ribbed Tickler
Some would say “the cock crows at dawn,” but for Zeek the Splooty, the cock had risen and had been rampantall night long. It was 5:00AM. The desert wind blew hot and dry into thedarkened interior of Boron’s Booty Bar. Zeke had blown in two nights ago. Dryas a nun’s twat, the desert air sucked
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The Hacksaw Don’t Cut It.
“Wha?” Hacksaw said into the phone, dazed and half-awake. “Wind ’em up,” the voice on the other end barked so loud Hacksaw hadtohold the phone at arms length. “We’re splitting from the cantina atnoon. You’ve got three hours to be on time. This is your lastchance Hacksaw. Don’t fuck up or you’re out of the
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Loner
Chet May stood at the door of the gas station casually sucking on aroot beer Slurpee as he watched the scene in the gas pump bay. There was nothingremarkable about it. All the players moved about in a practiced manner.Two black and white Riverside patrol cars were parked akimbo, doors flungopen, lights fluttering and reflecting
Mysterious Run Plan–2000
Tony the Tool sat in the gutter in front of his California bungalow. A couple weeks before, a community improvement group had painted the run-down rental, but it didn’t improve the condition of the junk rolling stock surrounding it. It was past 10 p.m. in the rundown neighborhood, but no one was going to call
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Simi Valley Bike Show
“Moto Concoursa” was the name of the game recently on a sunny May Sunday, the first such event held at the Simi Valley City Hall complex. It turned out to be a celebration of both precious metal and precious memories. And also for a good cause, a silent auction benefited the Pediatric Brian Tumor Foundation
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Night of the Vikings
Bandit, nearlyseven feet of high-grade treachery, feared by men since the first day heclawed his way out of a wart hogs womb, sodomized it, killed it and thenate the only female who would ever truly love him. Perhaps the most legendaryoutlaw biker of all time, a greater menace to social stability than theblack plague, the
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Book Review: The Devil Can Ride
The Devil Can Ride: The World’s Best Motorcycle Writing edited by Lee Klancher is 28 stories compiled to represent the best of motorcycle journalism. This is a highly entertaining collection of motorcycle stories that is well worth a look. There are some gems here that you might be hard pressed to find anywhere else.
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Gut Wrenching Gold
(If you’re reading this, you’re either hallucinating on Tabasco tinted, mescaline tainted magic-mushrooms or, that mother fucker, Bandit, has shown that he has the literary balls to put this steamy saga on his web site. The slimy synopsis is as follows: Zeke the Splooty, our horny hero gets into mad mayhem and romping sex. He
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Full Circle
I’ve been branded an outlaw.The posse has been chasing me for eight days now, and my rations are about gone – only a few bits of jerky and some stale biscuits remain! This is all the result of mistaken identity on the part of the citizens of Los Cupelos de Sano, which is a town
My First Harley
Scoots First Ride Scoot’s second chopperMy first ride was a “Bug” mini bike when I was around 12-yrs. Old. It was one of those “cool” ones with the peanut tank and baby apes. First thing I did was rip off the exhaust and put on a straight pipe. My life went down hill from then
My First Harley
Art still owns his first Shovelhead.ART'S FIRST BIKE AND BLUES1983, Pushing the front end of the big Shovelhead down the coastal highway of the outer banks of North Carolina, thinking about the year on Okinawa. I was Scrimping and saving to purchase the 1980 FXE. The time spent as a barracks rat was worth every
My First Harley
Author and custom painter, Joann Bortles, or Crazyhorse. CRAZYHORSE'S DREAM COME TRUE–ALMOST They say, that a human brain will take a traumatic experience and bury it, not allowing the conscious mind to dwell on it. By 1994 owning a Harley became so distant a dream, that I never even thought about it anymore. I was
My First Harley
Old shots from Bugs. Doesn't have a damn thing to do with this story.FIRST MEMORIESWith me, it started on a highway somewhere in LA, when I was probably in the 3rd grade. It was the early '60s. My mom and dad, who were and are fine upstanding citizens, had no interest in motorcycles. As a
My First Harley
Here's Johnny, the authorThe Origins of a Passion I have had many people ask me why I ride a motorcycle. I’m sure most who ride have known the scenario of pulling up to the gas station to refuel and getting hammered with the stories of cycle lore by every customer. You know the stories, “My
Monster Garage 50th
Bike Building Boot Camp or A Crash Course In Chopper Building The 50th Team.A rare e-mail address flashed across my in-box. Jesse James from Monster Garage wrote, “Wanna help build an Old School Chopper?” I wrote back, “I'm not a master builder, you have a number of talented builders at West Coast Choppers. I'm just
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Learning The Trade
There's always a lot of squawkin' about what a true chopper is. Some guys swear it's a chopper if it's a motorcycle with long fork$$$$$. Others believe it's an anti-social statement in the form of a motorcycle. The descriptions and beliefs on the subject are endless, and (this being America) there ain't a damn thing
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Lucky Guess–The Tim Conder Story
Editor's Note: Below is a story from Tim Conder, and old friend, bike builder, custom painter and all around artist. After the story I'm running his bio to give you the entire scoop on the man. Enjoy–Bandit.I just worked a 16 hour day crankin' on a paint job for some football player. I think I'll
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Little Logan Run
I planned a weekend getaway with my son Logan for some time ago, and the weekend had finally arrived!Young Logan was due to get out of school at noon on Friday. I needed to rescue his young self and scramble through gravel for 1.5 hour into Port Alberni, from our home in Bamfield, on Vancouver
Road Glitches
There's Ken Saxon Editor's Note: Mike didn't supply images so we ask Curt Lout if we could use some riding shots from his 2005 coverage. He kindly said yeah, so enjoy. The road has characteristics and glitches that sometimes confuse you, sometimes work in your favor, and sometimes slap ya in the back of the
RFR Hits Florida
My Robin in front of Flora-Bama on the Beach. Well kids, it is time for another blithering installment of “The Travels of Rigid Frame Richard”. This one doesn't involve a quest to “Clothe Poor Girls”. What a shame. I hit Pensacola, Florida for my niece's graduation. It was great to get to visit but tough
REMEMBERING DAVE MANN
With the unfortunate passing of David Mann, there has been a lot of attention on his effect on the motorcycle world for generations. My view on David’s death is a little different. You see, David Mann and my father, John, had been friends for more than 35 years. They met through mutual friends in the
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