A Journey of a Thousand Miles - The Biker Rally

The whole excuse for taking this ride was to attend a biker rally.  I didn't know what to think when I was invited to tag along on this ride a year ago and attend my first biker rally.  I was as much attracted to the idea as I was intimidated.  Isn't there a little "wildness" in us all?  At least enough to find out what you don't know.  What on earth does a biker rally consist of?  What do they do?  Will  it end up with me getting arrested?  "Honestly officer, I was only an innocent bystander!"  

Rumors of hard drinking, fist fights and bad behavior are all I have ever heard about bikers when they get together.  At church we have "fellowships".  With friends we have "get-togethers".  Bikers have "rallies".  Essentially it's all the same, people gather together around a common interest and talk about their common interest, the biker rally including a little more alcohol and tobacco (mostly) smoke than I am used to in my "fellowships".  

If you read my blog from a year ago about this same trip, same rally, same excuse to ride, you know that this rally is an annual event between the Christian biker club, the "Black Sheep" and the "HOGs" or the "Harley Owners Group."  The idea is that the Black Sheep want to forge strong ties between the two groups with the goal of evangelizing a HOG now and then.  So it's an invitational from the Black Sheep to the HOGs and the Black Sheep put on a spread to entice everyone to come.  Last year they slow cooked a real hog with lots of side dishes to boot.  They charged us $20 each and since it was for a good cause, I didn't mind.  This year it was a full Thanksgiving style dinner with turkey and ham, cranberry salads, and beans and it was $30 bucks each.  That was a little steep for me, good cause or not.  But we paid it, by far the most expensive meal of the trip.

I digress.  The "rally" is really interesting.  Many of these people obviously know each other from years and events past.  There is loud, boisterous talking, lots of laughing while everyone is waiting for the call to dinner.  Once the dinner is ready, there is short blessing over the meal and a long line forms while people wait for their turn at some food.  My wife and I were served up and we headed for a table with some open seating.  We met some great people, most of them sporting facial hair, one biker lady in a pink tutu and all sporting leather somewhere on their person.  We chat about our bikes, the weather, and riding in general.  Little bits and pieces of personal life are woven into the conversation.  I am amazed that no one asks me what I do for a living.  That is usually a conversation killer once they find out I pastor a local church.  I don't ask what they do for a living either and it never comes up.  There doesn't seem to be any real point to the rally, except renewing friendships and getting out on the bikes.

At the rally are some personalities that I particularly remember from the year before.  The most notable, Peppermint Patty.  She is legendary among the HOG riders.  

She is fierce, spunky and most of all, dedicated to riding her Harley Davidson.  The most often asked question directed to Patty is, "how many miles have you racked up by now?"  The reason they ask is because Patty has almost 550,000 documented miles.  Those are verified miles.  She lives to ride, rides to live.  At the drop of a hat, she will head out with someone, anyone, and ride until they are done.  Sometimes that means riding from Alaska to somewhere in the lower 48 and back.  "I do what I want to do", she told me.  Then there is a very tall woman whose name I can't recall but has a resemblance to Gomer Pyle when she smiles.  She is Patty's most often riding companion.  She is tall and slender, kind of the other end of the spectrum from Patty.  She is quieter than Patty and likes her Jack Daniels.  Si shows up in his Harley "TriGlide" or trike.  He is a gentle man with a long white beard kind of looks like ZZ Top and wears a well-worn leather vest with many patches.  He is cheered at his arrival.  

Speaking of vests, the leather vest is something every biker seems to own.  On their vest is their "patch" signifying their biker club and many other pins and patches denoting something important about their club.  Many have documented mileage patches showing how many miles they have ridden their bikes.  Then there are the "chains."  My theory about the vest chains is this.  Whenever a person gets inducted into their biker club, they are  presented with a vest that is "patched".  The vest probably fit them at the point it was given to them.  Most motorcycle vests have "expansion lacing" on each side under the arm which can be let out over time to accommodate their owners, ah, growth over the years.  When you let out as much lacing as you have, you get some "chains".  Chains are about 4" long and have a snap on each end.  As you continue to grow, you snap in a chain on each side of your vest where the buttons are and the chains hang in between connecting the two sides, holding the two sides together but allowing you to continue to wear the vest.  This way, you never have to discard your vest after all of your patches and pins have been attached to it.  Kind of genius and stylish in a biker sort of way.

In between my own conversations, I catch snippets of other conversations.  One person is explaining to another that the Black Sheep and the HOGs are almost the same except that the Black Sheep are the "religious arm of the HOGs."  Religious?  Interesting.  Another tells of a unexpected skid down the highway in which her Harley was totaled.  Others talk of trips taken and those that will be taken.  I listen to some of it amused and some of it causing me to ponder.  

As the food is consumed conversations continue as there really isn't much else to do at the campground.  Some cigars come out and I discover it doesn't take many cigars to make a LOT of smoke that seems to drift everywhere, even against the light breeze.  Suddenly a couple men in a side by side 4 wheeler pull up and shout louder than the conversations that they LOVE AND APPRECIATE THE HOGs AND BLACK SHEEP.  They are the owners of the Grizzly Bear campground and they have been hosting the "Meet in the Middle" biker rally for 12 years running.  They show their appreciation by gifting the group a case of Alaskan Beer and a box of wine of some kind.  Cheers!  Hugs!  The passenger in the side by side gets out, an older man who is wearing enormous bear paw slippers.  

He is obviously Mr. Grizzly Bear of the campground.  Lots of the bikers seem to know him.  On their way over to pick up a beer, they stop and shake hands and the women hug him.  

After being incredibly warm all afternoon, the sun finally dips behind the ridge behind the camp and things start to cool.  The laughing gets louder as the alcohol turns up the volume.  A song begins to be sung out loud to guffaws and approval.   Some drift off to their cabins.  The cigar smoke remains heavy.  Others like us decide it would be good to take a walk after spending so much of the day sitting.  We wander down all the little lanes of the camp which is quite large even if you don't realize it all at first.  From tent campers, to cabin rentals to motorhomes large and small, they have a place for you.   There are numerous Harley Davidsons parked everywhere.  I am finally beginning to recognize what seems like an infinite number of models the company makes.  We study many of them looking for cool mods and accessories dreaming of the bike we will ride someday when we grow up.

The hour of the day approaches 10:00 pm and I am ready to lay down on my hard as the earth bed in our hotel room.  I'll take a hot shower first and perhaps that set me up for a good snooze for the night.  As I get ready to turn in, the room is too warm so I open the sliding glass door to the balcony.  The swift rushing Nenana River is right below us and the sound of it is soothing.  Along about 2 am in the morning someone fires up their very LOUD piped bike and revs it up for our benefit.  Must be the alcohol talking I think to myself.

As it turns out, the bed was the hardest thing I have slept on in many years.  I tossed and turned all night.  It might have worked out if one side of me was perfectly flat like the mattress.  I've got too many curves and lumps and bumps to be sleeping on an apparent sheet of plywood.  I get up somewhat relieved to be off the bed and shower again.  I want to go down to the "church service" that is going to begin at 8:30 am.  I get there just a minute or two early for church but by the same margin too late for the coffee.  It's gone.  I was hoping to recoup some of my $60 I paid for dinner by getting some coffee since I am eating "low carb" and all they offer are Costco muffins. There is also a few of the beers and the box of wine left.  I pass.  I take a seat near where the speaker is going to speak.  

It's the first church service I have attended where stogie smoke waifs through the air.  

I wonder how long do those cigars last?  The speaker is actually very good.  Well spoken, good illustrations and he keeps it moving.  I think a couple of HOGs are actually in attendance which is the goal of the whole event.  20 minutes max and it's done.  No singing this year which with this crowd is maybe an improvement.  We say our good byes and begin to load the car with the heavy stuff then we don our gear as it looks as if it could rain on our way to Fairbanks.

It's kind of ironic that the rally takes place so early in the trip.  In a way it is the reason we are even here or at least that is how this trip got started.  Now it is over and I find myself looking forward to what is ahead, especially if we can avoid what looks like threatening rain.