Right of Passage
Don't get uptight
Just an 'ol man jaw'n
Ain't lookin' to fight."
"If ya don't mind me sayin
That's one fancy hog
Say, ain't it one of them
Computerized jobs?"
"Fuel injection?
Stereo too?
Where'd ya keep the bed?
Ahhh, just messin' with you."
"Spose it breaks down
And your all alone
Do ya whip out a tool pouch?
Or a cellular phone?"
"I used to putt
Those days are through
Now'days I wrench
Gives me somethin' to do."
"That's when startin' a hog
Took a good, firm kick
When brotherhood
Wasn't some fancy clique."
"Colors were somethin'
You lived righteously by
Not a fashion statement
To catch one's eye."
"Freedom wasn't a logo
That cost ya twenty grand
It's fire-in up your very first scoot
Settin' your last kickstand."
"Now'days, it's no big deal
Riders everywhere you look
I ain't sayin' we blazed the trail
But we sure as hell wrote the book!"
"Hey...didn't mean to bend your ear
Know ya wanna go
Before ya split, just one more thing
Somethin' ya ought to know."
"A "Bikers" not just ownin' a hog
Anyone can play the part
It comes from inside, ya live for the ride
Mind, soul, heart."
"Ride safe kid."
Ironhorse Writer
© 2/21/2002
Bikers Writes
Biker 101
What is a Biker?
Is it someone who's clearly defined?,
or a perception, merely a state of mind?
Who is a Biker?
One portrayed in movies, through hype?,
or entrapped within a stereotype?
When is a Biker?
24/7 from head to boot?,
or the weekend warrior, who sheds his suit?
Why is a Biker?
Fulfilling a preordained legacy?,
or simply indulging fantasy?
Where is a Biker?
As for me, it couldn't be clearer,
all I need do is look in the mirror.
by
The Ironhorse Writer
8/10/2002
An American Biker
I tend to push the limits
I ride against the wind
I look upon my vices
Without the guilt of sin
I dig the smell of leather
I like the look of chrome
I prefer the feel of a woman
Without the silicone
I am all for getting even
I settle every debt
I have faced many a demon
Without a thought of regret
I believe in God and country
I know of sacrifice
I honor those who've given
Without regard of price
I am an American Biker
I don't subscribe to hype
I ask only that you see me
Without the stereotype
Ironhorse Writer
© 08/05/2007
Old Soldiers
He’s a throwback, a regular Joe
A no frills, scoot ridin’ so and so
Caveman, whose dialect
Excludes anything politically correct
A veteran, Americas best
Wears his dog tags upon his vest
Converted memoirs of another day
Confirming ‘this dog’ has earned ‘his day’
His mind bares still the scars of war
A burning threshold, an open door
Hinges of irony, refusing to bind
Awaiting his ‘brothers’ still left behind
The freedom of riding affords him first hand
Reasons he fought in that foreign land
For country and family inherit the peace
While only the ‘ride’ affords his release
Allow him his solace, give’em what's due
Never shall we know what he’s going through
Doubt not his resolve. Pray he gets by
Old soldiers, it’s said, never shall die
by
The Ironhorse Writer
©11/17/2003
UPON THE WALL
He stood in silence, that cold, gray fall
Gaze affixed, upon the wall
Of those like him, of those who came
In search of a meaning, in search of a name
All of twenty-two, when he returned
Medals, Memories, Nightmares, all earned
Thoughts of, "That boy," who answered "The call,"
Of all who answered, upon the wall
Remembered his dad, the day he came back
Six packs, smokes, the Pearl Harbor attack
"Sometimes son, ya' have to settle the score,"
"I know dad . . . least yours was a war"
Then, there was Mom, steadfast and true
"I knew that God would see you through."
His mind accepted God healing all
But his soul remained upon the wall
"One big board, each piece with a name
Political pawns in a military game
Spin the wheel, watch the ball
Your numbers up . . . upon the wall."
Faceless specters haunt his mind
Upon the wall? Or left behind?
Perhaps, for those, like him, to heal
Must first control the spinning wheel
No more bullshit, no more games
We owe that much to all the names
With dignity and reverence he stood proud and tall
Then saluted the names upon the wall
"Got a long way home," as he kicked down the gear
Was glad to have made it here.
"Long way home? . . . "Still and all
I've family here, upon the wall."
by
The Ironhorse Writer
© 4/30/01
Excerpts
"Well Dad, that's about it
Not much more to tell
By the time you read this letter
We'll surely be catchin' hell"
"Dad, there's something I want to tell you
Something I need to make clear
It's not just following orders
That has me fighting here"
"I'm fighting for my country
For those who've fought before
For people I will never know
But also Dad, one more."
"A boy's imagination
'Monsters', then the screams
A Dad who camped out in his room
To simply guard his dreams"
"Bullies who would taunt and tease
It seemed there'd be no end
A Dad, a talk and boxing gloves
A kid who learned to defend"
"Thank you Dad, for being there
Rest assured, tonight
When the 'monsters' start to roam
It's me they'll have to fight"
Excerpts written by a son
Within a foreign land
Excerpts of another note
In his Father's other hand.
Words as 'Grateful Nation'
Followed by, 'Sacrifice.'
Excerpts of Freedom
And of those who pay the price
by
The Ironhorse Writer
© 3/26/2003
The Softer Side of Leather
By: Wayne Haskell
Some think bikers are mean,
Some dressed in leathers and others in jeans.
You don't like our patches or the clothes that we wear,
You hate our bandannas and you hate our long hair.
You don't like our scooters and our loud noisy pipes,
You think we're not loyal to the Stars and Stripes.
You don't like our patches that are worn on our vests,
You think we're so different from all the rest.
But the truth is, Mister, we're kind of alike,
You drive a car and I ride a bike.
You have no tattoos painted on your arm,
But we fought side by side in Viet Nam.
So the next time your children are running around,
Enjoy their freedom, and the fun that they've found.
Remember us bikers and all that we do,
We feed our lost veterans, we're red white and blue!
We bring toys for tots and toys for a smile,
By riding our bikes for miles and miles.
You see, us bikers have never forgot,
Our homeless veterans and our homeless tots.
We are loyal to our clubs and true to our bro's,
We will always wear black from our heads to our toes.
Society once said that long hair was for fags,
But you'll never see a biker burning a flag.
Now the tattoos and leather you don't understand,
Stands for free independence that us bikers demand.
Our long hair and patches and bikes with loud pipes,
Is a tribute to our freedom, the Stars and the Stripes.
So before you make up your mind on just what I might be,
Take a look in the mirror and what do you see?
The man that you see that is staring right back,
Is not too much different from that biker in black!!
Ride Safe Ride Free
That Look
Toy Run Poem
It replenishes the soul
Like a throttle opened wide
Knowing that look in a child’s eyes
Is a look you helped provide
Leather clad loyalty
Biker dedication
Kindling the warmth of a seasonal fire
Youths imagination
City streets glisten with steel and chrome
The spirit of giving rides free
Two wheeled tinsel assuring once more
A gift ‘neath a hospital tree
Smiling faces, waving hands
Well wishing passerby's
Unable to see, it’s not about us
It’s that look in a child’s eyes
The true gift of a toy run
Comes from a little ones heart
That look in a child’s eyes
Of which you have taken part
by
The Ironhorse Write
© 9/17/2004
A Run For The Border
My Road King (Black Betty Bam Ba Lam) has an affinity for wanting me to hold her little parts in my hands before a long ride. In keeping with this tradition she quit charging in late September in anticipation of a ride to Nuevo Progreso, Mexico. After procrastinating as long as I could I performed the surgery and palpations and she was out of the recovery room the afternoon of Tuesday October 7th.
On Thursday I woke about 7 and was ready to ride. The plan was to ride with Gary and his pretty little bartender to Nuevo Progreso. Gary showed up about 10:30. We rode to La Grange and met up with "pretty little" and her boyfriend? We crossed the border about 4:30 with skin about 2 sizes too small, baked about 3 layers deep. The seafood and margaritas at The Red Snapper were enough to ease any discomfort. We checked into Las Flores Inn and proceeded to imbibe with our Mexican friends.
As the evening wore on and my co adventurers retired, I ended up locked out of the motel room. Tequila must have left their ears ringing because I couldn't get anyone to let me in. Being the resourceful person that I am, I found the restroom next to the pool and went to sleep in there. A couple of hours later, I heard the motel security guy open the door. Roused from my tequila dreams, I looked up and said........ "BOO"!! He went away. Not knowing how socially acceptable sleeping in that restroom was, I decided to sleep on my bike. She's really very comfortable and I don't know why I didn't think of that in the first place. A couple of hours later the motel owner brought me a tent (already set up) and a pillow and a comforter.
Friday about 4000 bikes rode in from "Roar By The Shore" (SPI). Main Street was blocked off most of the way to the border and the motorcycle acrobatic troupe from Mexico City put on a show for us riding old pan heads making pyramids like a bunch of rolling cheerleaders. The SPI group left about 4pm and I stumbled off through town and found a dentist. The impressions she took weren't too bad, kind of a cross between peanut butter and bondo. After a few side trips to some of the many cantinas between there and Las Flores, I retired before my roommates.
Saturday, the host groups; Los Tequileros and PIG (Pinche Independent Group) had their fiesta. This time only about 3 blocks blocked off. Drag racing in the streets, bike games and live music. I did get in the slow race. Wasn't slow enough. I had to be at the dentist at 1pm. If I had to do it over, I would have picked a different dentist. Should a picked some big ugly sucker. It just doesn't seem right to be mad at such a pretty girl for pulling your teeth. She told me next time to drink 3 margaritas before I get there so I wont be so nervous. All went well and when she snapped my new teeth in I went off to fill my prescription for more margaritas (plenty of ice). Prescription filled, I ran into Gary."We're riding to Rio Bravo. Saddle up!!" About 120 bikes escorted the acrobatic troup the 25 or so miles to Rio Bravo, where they put on a show for them. Now I know that Gary and I are particularly photogenic, but we felt really special when we were asked several times if we would pose with these Mexican riders women. Back in N. Progreso, we found some more cantinas and I had the foresight to retire before the door was locked. One thing about traveling with two other guys and a girl is that someone is going to sleep in cramped quarters when there are only two beds. All was well until sometime in the wee hours I awoke to Gary whispering Spanish in my ear. I slept in the chair.
Sunday I awoke around 8:30 and ate some breakfast and was ready for the ride home. About 11:30 my group got up and after an excursion for a cigar for Gary we were ready to cross the border. After Gary walked his cigar (Cuban) back to Mexico and got rid of it, we rode for home. My teeth are really great and I didn't need those layers of skin anyway.
We met Chuy (Las Flores) and Arturo and Rosa (the "Pavita" taco joint) a couple of years ago and they have treated us like family. They ride and their group is "Los Tequileros".
Los Tequileros sponsor rallies in April and October. I highly recommend them.
Hasta a la calle,
Rover
www.roverslists.com
Upon The Wall
Page Links
A Soldiers Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said, "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile."
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq
I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line. But you didn't see me put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.
I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk. But you didn't see me playing Santa at the local Mall.
I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant when you saw my bike parked out front. But you didn't see me attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.
I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I rode by. But you didn't see me riding behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.
I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children. But you didn't see me, when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.
I saw you stare at my long hair. But you didn't see me and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.
I saw you roll your eyes at our Leather jackets and gloves. But you didn't see me and my brothers donate
our old ones to those that had none.
I saw you look in fright at my tattoos. But you didn't see me cry as my children where born or have their name written over and in my heart.
I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere. But you didn't see me going home to be with my family.
I saw you, complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be. But you didn't see me when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.
I saw you yelling at your kids in the car. But you didn't see me pat my child's hands knowing she was safe behind me.
I saw you reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road. But you didn't see me squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.
I saw you race down the road in the rain. But you didn't see me get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.
I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time. But you didn't see me trying to turn right.
I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in. But you didn't see me leave the road.
I saw you, waiting impatiently for my friends to pass. But you didn't see me. I wasn't there.
I saw you go home to your family. But you didn't see me. Because I died that day you cut me off.
I was just a biker. A person with friends and a family. But you didn't see me.
EVEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE US, RESPECT OUR RIGHTS TO RIDE WHAT WE CHOOSE AND TAKE A FEW EXTRA SECONDS TO BE SURE WE ARE NOT IN 'YOUR' WAY
JUST A BIKER
- Your wife has ever asked you to move the bike so she could see the TV better.
- You have ever had to borrow a helmet for your date.
- Your best friends are named after reptiles.
- You own more black T-shirts then underwear.
- Taking your wife on a cruise means a putt down the interstate.
- Sturgis is your dream vacation.
- You ever quit a job to go to Sturgis.
- You only took the job to pay for your trip to Sturgis.
- Your only three piece suit is a leather jacket, leather vest and chaps.
- Your ol' lady can only eat a hot dog if it's suspended from a string above your bike.
- You buy your 3-year old niece a Harley Davidson t-shirt.
- You can identify bugs by taste.
- You think BLACK & ORANGE would make nice house colors.
- You think GOD invented winter just as a good time to get your bike painted.
- People know your a biker even when you don't want them to.
- One of your children or pets have either "Harley" or "Davidson" in their name.
- People have nearly died of starvation looking at all of your bike/run pictures.
- Over half the pictures you take have your bike in it.
- You stare longer at the pictures of the bikes in Easyriders than the naked women.
- You don't go a day without wearing something that says "Harley Davidson".
- The weather is too bad for riding and you start your bike and sit on it in the garage.
- You get hit by a car, break your leg, then tell the nice police officer, "I'm fine I can ride home".
- You see no use in going to a bar without bikes in front.
- You dream of owning a Harley dealership.
- You have a refrigerator in the garage just for beer.
- You pile boxes and laundry on your car, but your bike must have 6 feet or clearance in the garage.
- Everytime you hear a vehicle with headers you look for a Harley.
- When you plan a vacation you set up time to visit the bike shops first.
- You have all the tools to work on every Harley ever made, but not any to work on your ol'ladys car.
- It's impossible to see out of your car or trucks rear window because of all the Harley stickers.
- You refer to your bike as if it had a legal first name
- You have a heater in your garage so you can work on your bike(s) when it's cold.
- Your Christmas list has no words, just part numbers.
- Every magazine you subscribe to has the word "Biker" on it somewhere.
- One area of your house (other then the garage) is decorated in a motorcycle motif.
- Everytime you spend money, you think about what you coulda bought for your bike.
- They celebrate your birthday at the Harley store.
- You think 'Helmet Hair' is a fashion statement.
- You encourage your kids to go to the Motorcycle Mechanic's Institute instead of college.
- Your dog and your wallet are both on chains.
- You fainted when you met Willie G.
- Jack Daniels makes your list of "most admired people".
- You've spent more on your motorcycle than your Education
- You have at least one ashtray which is actually a motorcycle part.
- You think that the Harley-Davidson plant should be one of the 7-wonders of the world.
- When she says "It's the bike or me!!" you have to think about it really hard.
- You spend more time polishing your bike than caressing your woman
- You have more locks on your bike than you do your house.
- Anyone who doesn't ride is just 'ok'.
- You can think of at least ten things we forgot on this page.
You know you're a biker if...
