Hardcore Old Skool Outlaws

Outlaws. The Real Deal.
















This was no party.

Buncha Fags!

Vroom! Vrooooom!!!

Note the rectangular steel can modified to use as a parts catcher. I spotted one of these at an auction 25 years ago and have been copying the idea ever scince. Split the front, hammer the metal flat and there you have a sturdy box. I' ve made em from brake fluid cans, W-D 40 cans and olive oil cans. Any steel can. Lasts forever.

Can't say it here unless you're willing to say it to their faces.

This was no party.
[/QUOTE]
Man, would I ever feel silly wearing riding gear with dog collars draped all over it and conchos and swasticas and all that nonsense.

But then, that's one reason I don't ride Harleys.

That guy with the gaudy jacket has a scar on his face very much like a guy I went to HS with who wound up on the wrong end of a broken soft drink bottle once - same era, and the bottles weren't plastic back then. :eek1

My sisters and brothers in law were all from around Class of '55 or so. One of the brothers in law who later went on to be a small time racketeer for a while, and a few of his friends would blend right into those pics from the late 50s. Early Sportsters and Triumphs; lots of good guys/girls and bad actors - sometimes in the same body. Lots of stories about the guys going downtown in Macon around 0300ish and racing their "motors" from bottom to top and back in one of the very few parking garages back then. Backing them in around the smooth concrete ramps at each level flat track style.

And of course with me being about 13-14 years younger, guess who was babysitting me during my formative years of the mid and late 50s. One thing that impressed me at an early age was that even the bad guys from that era who would land in prison a few years for one thing or another, or haul liquor, or run numbers, or whatever still had a sense of morality in that they always watched their language and how they acted around me until I was well into my teens. It was a cool time in its own way back then.

They are probably users walkers now, but I bet they could still whip your Nancy Boy ass.

Danny Lyon's
Bikeriders

+1

One of the best photographers ever! The man was truly able to ingratiate himself with anyone in order to document the subcultures of America.~jg

Who was the photog...? Hunter S....?

you suck

Uhh...

Danny Lyon, I assume.

Busted kick start return spring on a BSA, by chance?

I was lucky enough to find a first edition of that book several years ago. I was told its worth some bucks now. It was reissued a few years ago.
I love that one pic called 'crossing the ohio' with the guy on the bridge.

as for calling them fags? yeah, do it to their faces. I wont even voice my opinion of someone who would say something so stupid.

being a biker 40 years ago meant something. its not like it is today, where all the 'bikers' ride around & try to look like badasses on the weekend. livin that lifestyle wasnt easy, everyone looked down on them, cops always hasslin them. Most of the stuff they wore was to 'shock the squares', not because they were neonazis.

when I chopped my 1st bike back in the 80's, I remember how I was treated by people. and cops. it was rough at times. its easy now, thanks to the yuppies & the tv shows. I miss the old days (ok, not the hassles by cops so much....)

One of the funniest things I remember from back then, is riding down the hiway at about 60, & was going past a car. the lady driving the car looked over, her eyes got wide, & then she reached over & locked her door!
I started laughing so fucking hard I almost fell off the bike.

squares. gotta love em. even the ones on ADV

Doug

This is Danny Lyon. Brilliant photographer. Wondering if Johnny Goodpaster is still around tuning suspensions. Anyone know?

Man, would I ever feel silly wearing riding gear with dog collars draped all over it and conchos and swasticas and all that nonsense.

But then, that's one reason I don't ride Harleys.[/quote]


If you pay attention a lot of the guy's in those days were NOT riding Harleys. Alot of Brit. stuff was being used by the bad boys.

Well, I guess you don't have a TV that works or don't watch South Park much.

One of their most popular episodes was "The F word." lampooning Harley riders for making so much friggin noise, with the kids calling them "Harley Fags", etc. I can't imagine how you missed it 'cause it was posted all over ADV but heres a link: http://www.southparkstudios.com/guide/1312/?

In that episode you'll also note, that they discuss the actual origin and definitions of the word "fag". Somehow, in our politically correct society, different groups are constantly hijacking our language by reinventing history but thats a discussion for another time and place. The most current colloquial definition is: "...the meaning of the word fag is changing. It no longer seems to mean homosexual, although it once did. I think the new meaning is closer to "loud, obnoxious, arrogant". Re the South park episode "The F Word" airdate 11/04/09, where the main characters use the word to mean "obnoxious harley rider". Certainly, the 20-30 year olds in my social group use it interchangeably with "douch-bag" and "asshole", as a pejorative term."

You can check out a discussion here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talk:Fag but I'd suggest that you go hangout with some "kids" between 10 and 20yo and find out how "square" you really are!


I too remember the time when "Biker" meant something, because during the 50s, 60s and early 70s, just riding a motorcycle, much less a chop, meant something. In 1967 in Columbus, we were constantly stopped so that cops could check muffler baffles, horns, make sure that we were wearing eye protection (Ray Bans!), we got tickets for rolling 2 mph over the limit, etc, etc. Cage drivers locking their doors when we passed them at 60+mph? Oh yeah...!

At five years old, my dads little brother Doug took my out to his garage to show me the family bikes in Winter storage. Two Harley's, a Triumph, a Vincent and an Ariel square four, all in the same little garage. For a little kid, it looked like an ocean of chrome and nickel plating! All but one of the bikes belonged to the youngest brother, my uncle Curtis. He was a certified, stone cold, bad-ass biker but he never wore any of that stupid Nazi regalia and he didn't need to. Both of the brothers had been too young to go to WW-II and had spent those years riding "The Wall of Death" and those big steel balls in carnivals and at State Fairs all over the Mid-West. I remember being about 4 years old and watching Doug ride past the house standing on the handle bars of his yellow Big Twin. Man-o-man... The hook was set deep! Those guys could ride!

My uncle Curtis and his brother were two of the nicest, smartest and most stand-up guys that I've ever met. Douglas was a lifelong Mason and after he and his wife quit riding, he dedicated himself to community service in Sandusky Ohio, while brother Curtis later picked up a couple of college degrees in counseling and got into fast cars and sail boats. I sure wish that we could have ridden together and I sure do miss em but we'll always ride together...

In the 70s when I was building my own chop, total strangers would drop by my house in the middle of the night, with gifts of parts. "Hey man, brother Wimpy told me that you were building a scoot, so here, you'll need this..." It happened so often that I called it "The midnight Parts Patrol".

It was a sad occurrence for some of us when the idea of "Biker" turned into "Outlaw Biker" and the so-called "rule" was that your bike had to be a damn Harley but this past summer I was at the yearly Woodstock Anniversary Celebration in Golden Gate Park (San Francisco) and noticed all of the shiny new BMW's parked behind the Hells Angels stand. I guess that having to own a Harley to be in the club, doesn't mean you have to actually ride one! OTOH, somewhere in my stash is a photo of an East Coast biker run to Laconia dating from the late 50's. All of the riders were wearing the usual peaked caps, leather jackets, jeans and Red Wings but all of the bikes were BMW /2s!

I'm very proud of the fact that I'm a 4th generation decedent of genuine, greasy fingered bikers.

Now.... Put that doggie chain back on your jacket, go have a beer and untwist.

PS: Come to think of it, I once got a speeding ticket for rolling 3 mph over the limit, in Hampton VA. in my car but that was for "Driving While Black". I guess that Black folks and Indians are outlaws too! (Oh well, I'd better go have a cuppa coffee and wake up....!)

The Wild One (1953), surprising enough, was loaded with Brit
Iron while Harleys were in the minority.

I recall stopping in Cloverdale, CA at the Hi-Top Drive-In back
in '65 enroute to Boonville for a football game. All at once, a
whole bunch of one-percenters descended. Hells Angels, Sons
of Hawaii, Barhoppers, and Gypsy Jokers. Am pretty sure that
all, if not most, were on Harleys.

OTOH, during my college days in DC/MD/VA noticed that the
Pagans were riding Triumphs. Lots of beautifully customized pre-
unit contruction twins. Didn't see many Panheads or Ironheads
compared to the Limeys.

I was pulled over all too many times by the cops from the late
'60s to mid-70s. Let's just say that my appearance and riding
style rubbed 'em the wrong way.

As far as the attire goes with the Chicago Outlaws back in the
'60s, it was a completely different era and culture. In a way, I
can see some parallels btw them and the Ton-Up Boys/Rockers
over in England.

This is from 1979 when I was riding my Shovelhead north that
August from the East Bay to Feather River Canyon.

Some family history has been showing up from my Dad.

He transferred some old Super 8 movies to DVD for Christmas presents.

I knew Dad rode an old Whizzer and then graduated up to a Zundapp. Met my Mom when he owned a Porsche. Wing tip shoes, polyester suits etc... Squarest man I ever thought lived. Mormon convert back in the 70's, my sister and I weren't even allowed to watch TV if it showed cigarettes.

Then the video showed him and my uncle tearing up Philadelphia on some old Harleys. Marlon Brando hats, the leather etc, one bike really bobbed.

Sons of divorced parents, my Dad and uncle apparantly weren't the "church type"

Every video containing my uncle has him dressed in a bike jacket and engineer boots. Even when he was about 10.

Most "biker" history was hidden from the family due to a great uncle dying in prison. He rode a bike, sentenced to prison for murder. Dad heard he rode with some gang. Virginia I think. No one left alive to get any details from. Guess when Dad and Uncle Bob started to carry on the tradition, Grandpa cut them off.

Dad's letter contained "still not sure how you ever developed such a love of motorcycles all on your own".

Then he admitted riding the Harley to Times Square for New Years Eve. No details on that trip other than "coldest I've ever been".

Wish I had a way to post the DVD clips.