WyzWmn's World©

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 changing and there seems to be a lot of new riders out there. These days the riders you see blasting 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 wearing 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.

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 going to know a Panhead from a bed pan?” 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.

Be kind to women, children and animals, but don’t take any bullshit about being a biker. 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 proud. Stand behind what you say with action.

Never lie, cheat or steal, 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.

If you see a wrong, fight it yourself, if you are about anything. You’ll take care of problems yourself, find solutions.

Don’t Whine. Absolutely no one likes or respects a whiner. 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, 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 stop for anyone broken down, 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, this isn’t a 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 they make the party. You only go around once. Tomorrow you could be road kill, thanks to a snowbird 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 an 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.

Copyright 1992 Bob Dolan

A year ago I introduced my best male friend to my best female friend (you may remember my story from May when he proposed to her in front of 30-50 bikers at a riding club event?)

Bee and Bryan just got home from 8 weeks of holidaying around the continent culminating in a mad dash from Sturgis to get here in time for our bro?s funeral (actually she flew from Rapid City to Kelowna a week ago to assist an ailing friend and he rode like snot to get home in time…but I digress)

So I go up there to Naniamo yesterday to prepare for the funeral and wake…Bee n Bryan say they’ve brought me a surprise from Rapid City…

They present me with a helmet sticker that says “if I have to understand don’t bother to explain it”

I say “thank you very much for thinking of me on your holiday”…

Then they say they have something else for me…
And they give me a helmet sticker that says “When I woke up this morning I had one nerve left and You’re getting on it”

I say again, “thank you very much for thinking of me on your holiday”…

They then say they have something else for me…And they give me another helmet sticker that says “I’m not a bitch…I’ve just been in a bad mood for the last couple of years!”

I laugh again and again I say… “once again, thank you so much for thinking of me on your holiday”…

They tell me once more that they have something else for me…and they give me a Sturgis T-shirt?”

Way Cool !” says I, “I can’t believe you guys took the time to like shop for me while you were on the holiday of a lifetime…thanks.”

Bryan gets this funny grin on his face and disappears into the bedroom. He reappears and places on the table in front of me a new fender for my Pickle!

I am flabbergasted. (I haven’t had a front fender on my trike for 2 years and I live in the bloody rain forest!)
I don’t know what to say…can you imagine 2 people going on the triking trip of a lifetime and hauling a freakin fender alla way back for a friend?

I jump up and give them both a hug.

We sit back down and I am examining said fender and I proclaim “look at all the shiny chrome bolts…me likes shiny”. (the Pickle is currently a rust bucket) To which Bryan answers”oh…I have other bolts to go with that…come ‘eer”

He grabs me by the hand an waltzes me across the living room to the front hall where he pulls a jacket off a shiny new set of springer forks and leans over and points at the big bolts in the bottom “see? ” he says, “more shiny bolts for Wyz”

I look at him and then I turn and look at her…and they are both grinning like Cheshire cats….so I did what any other red blooded biker would do…I burst into tears!

Bryan then goes on to tell me that they bought them for me because they want me to be safe and that my old forks are soo distressed that he’s worried I’m gonna end up killing myself and he adds that if it wasn’t for me he’d have never found the love of his life….so it’s important to both of them that I’m safe.

To which I answer with a little hysterical sobbing and completely obliterate the part where he tells me that there’s also handle bars, grips and cables coming directly from the shop that originally built my trike some 30 years ago! I gotta tell ya…I was a bloody write off.

A large bald mass of sniveling pulp…with red eyes.

So now we’re gonna have a forkin’ party…and I’m gonna get forked…!

whoooooooo hooooooooo!