IS THIS THE FUTURE OF MOTORCYCLING?

 

 

 Talk about an attitude adjustment!  No, make that a lifestyle-altering adjustment!

 If you have a desire to demolish your comfortable image of the biker lifestyle then visit http://www.treehugger.com/clean-technology/prototype-env-hydrogen-fuelcell-motorbike.html

CAUTION!  Be prepared and take all necessary steps to protect yourself from whiplash and other such self-induced injuries prior to punching in the URL.  My first glimpse of the site resulted in the dumping of an icy brew on my lower extremities, followed by a severe wrenching of my spinal cord as I bolted upright from my cushy leather chair.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m all for technology advancement but this could be the meteor strike that obliterates our lifestyle.  Advocates of the trendy “green consciousness” are already boasting that this machine will evolve to become the future of motorcycling. 

Powered by a removable hydrogen fuel cell, called the Core, it creates an “Emissions Neutral Vehicle”, hence the name ENV (they call it the “Envee”, but that is the absolute last emotion that jumps to my mind upon viewing) due to exhaust omissions running close to zero. 

Key features (this is where it gets ugly) are;

1)      Top speed of a blistering 80 km/hr

2)      No, gears. No clutch, no shifting

3)      The bike runs silent

No matter what substance I abuse, nor how hammered I get, I am unable to picture myself and my brothers, all-dressed in our leathers; hooking up on a Sunday morning to ride out mounted upon this engineering aberration. Between the passing of water from the exhaust coupled with the sound and smells of your brothers’ flatulence; you will be subjected to, and forced to participate in, the ultimate potty experience. You could say that just about covers all your basic freak scenes, Eh? 

This is one technological advancement that will never find a place in this old cowboy’s lifestyle.  I don’t give a rat’s ass if gasoline skyrockets into the hemisphere; I will ride my smoke belchin’, gear slammin’, rumblin’and roarin’ dinosaur until its demise or until I am no longer physically able to swing my leg over the saddle! 

 Scary Larry, Perfect Pigs MC

Free Forever ~ Forever Free

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Diligence is the buzz word of the next decade

Although there have been successes in our ongoing quest to ensure that the rights of bikers are protected; the pressures of discrimination are constant and unrelenting. Perhaps there are skeptics who may question my observations? Over the years, I’ve listened to many riders who, as a majority, claim they ride without harassment or scrutiny. Perhaps in their world! But many of us in ‘the life’ ride with a patch and, due to the misperceptions created and enforced by the dogs of the establishment, we experience a totally different reality.

Back in 2004 – 2005, I attempted a ‘Pull Over’ curbside PR campaign where I and my club brothers (following many annoying interruptions to our peaceful ritual of rolling down the streets of Peel Region) explained in vain to the police services attending this sham of law enforcement, that the practice was a blatant and unnecessary discrimination based entirely upon an individual’s demeanor. One particularly memorable experience while riding solo but sporting my patch occurred on Eglinton Ave and the 410 where I was encircled by seven Peel cruisers! One aggressive cruiser almost scratched my ticket in his zeal to block my advance. Not given to suffering in silence, I was off my machine in a flash and greeted the ensemble with a hearty “What the *%@*!” One rather burly individual, sporting cut-off leather gloves, barked in my face “Who the *%@* do you think you are?” I retorted with “You must be the Dick in, Dick Tracy!” Now picture this - a beautiful Saturday afternoon but traffic is snarled and backed up in all directions and, to the casual observer, the scene appeared to be a major takedown of a dangerous desperado. Far from it . . . merely a jack-up by a bunch of jack-offs. Tempers flared for a few minutes with some posturing via both sides but otherwise no physical injuries. At this point the supervisor arrived, who happened to be the very same Peel Police Sergeant I had met with earlier in the day to discuss preparations for our upcoming club Show & Shine at the Brampton Thunder Run – a meeting that was convened to prevent this exact scenario from happening! You can draw your own conclusions as to the outcome but I departed eventually with an apology and without charges. I have used this example to illustrate exactly why this practice is stressful to all concerned. Particularly to the biker who loses two hours out of his day and is forced to become a spectacle in his neighborhood.  Don’t get me started on the harassment perpetrated during the annual exodus to PD13.  Today jack-ups are not quite as extreme but, according to reports received from our OCC membership, this tactic is still standard operating procedure used in the ongoing attempt to intimidate and oppress a minority class of citizens who maintain motorcycle club allegiances.

            Yea, I’ve heard all the arguments condoning these unprovoked intrusions into the lives of Canadian citizens. If those are bona fida arguments then why is our lifestyle the only lifestyle receiving this form of harassment? My personal objections and observations: why is there an emphasis on collecting identity data and the photographing of bikers without charges being laid? why are other visible minorities not subjected to these discriminatory practices? Other organizations have individuals who have broken society’s laws but they are not subjected to an ongoing persecution based upon ‘guilt by association or attire’. Throughout the various police services, there are individuals who create criminal acts but other members of those police services are allowed to pursue a life without scrutiny. The clergy has many members who have committed obscene offences but they too are allowed to pass unobstructed in their daily routines. Why the paranoia regarding motorcycle clubs? Does the establishment actually believe the Hollywood hype? Does the establishment view clubbers as enemies of the state? HELL YEA! Nazi Germany used much the same tactics in their zeal to create a database to further the persecution of a visible minority. The comparisons, as preposterous as they are disgusting, are measurable by similarity! Lately there was been an attempt, via police propaganda assisted by an insatiable media bent on news making not news reporting, to insinuate that some veteran’s motorcycle clubs are involved in criminal activities simply because the vets attended a charity event, which was also attended by many patch holders, where photographs were taken of individuals engaging in simple socializing; which was then reported in the mainstream print media as evidence supporting the assumption.  Absence of malice . . . yea right! Regardless of the attempts to justify these discriminatory practices, there is a growing resentment towards these blatant acts of prejudice.

As the popularity of motorcycling increases, the human compulsion to form organizations of like-minded individuals also increases. Since 2010, the Ontario Confederation of Clubs has welcomed many  new clubs into the confederation. The executives of these clubs have done their homework and realize that to strike a patch attracts the dogs of persecution. Another realization is that discrimination, no matter the disguise, is a monster whose appetites are forever expanding. The Ontario Confederation of Clubs is dedicated to challenging any attempt to further erode the rights of bikers and to assure the preservation of the biker lifestyle. This is not an easy mandate considering the immense bureaucracy whose bias is fuelled by our own tax dollars. Our cause was forged out of necessity and survives due to the unselfish support of our membership and our sympathizers. Your support is also required if we are to continue opposing these unjust practices. Not a clubber? Not a problem! You can lend your support via an independent membership and make a difference today. Visit www.occ4u.org for information and membership applications.

Larry Lilly

OCC Treasurer & President PPMC

 

Posted in freedom, motorcycles | 1 Comment

SCARY RECALLS AN OLD (1998) FALLDOWN!

Due to the recent rash of motorcycle fatalities in Ontario – this message (written in 2000) is not only necessary but also practical foundation material vital to basic biker survival.

Forty- three years . . . Not exactly a drop in the bucket but exactly the number of years I’ve been piloting my scooters around Trawnna. I grew up in Parkdale and cut my biker teeth in the downtown core, streetcar tracks and all. In my puppy years, I built my own rides out of parts baskets and rode by the seat of my pants. In recent years, I’ve been fortunate to own some very classy machines and have logged miles all over North America. Over the years, I became cocky and thought the city’s streets held no more surprises for me.   Huge miscalculation!

King St . . . West of Strachan . . . East of Dufferin . . . A minefield of hazards (Metro Police report about 40 bike accidents in one year on this stretch of road) but definitely rideable under normal conditions. Paul and I had ridden through earlier in the day on our way downtown. Next stop was a social rap with my amigo Rob at Toronto Harley. We had planned to boogie on the Gardiner but this was out of the question because it was the first day of the Ex and traffic was at a standstill. We decided to backtrack. It was raining lightly but it posed no concern as we roared away.

Paul was ahead of me and to the right side of the lane. A compact car separated us so when it signaled to turn right; I swung out to pass. I was between the streetcar tracks (nothing unusual as most of the time I ride there when on King St.) And after the car turned, I moved to fall in behind Paul. The bike slid uncontrollably to the left. I heard and sensed the vibrations as my engine guard scraped the pavement. I juiced the throttle and Big Booo righted to ninety degrees. I gently applied the brakes and lost control. The bike slid sharply to the right and now gravity had me in its grasp and I was going down. No panic. My mind was calm as I slid down King St. with my hands busily steering Booo away from wrapping around a hydro pole. Once clear, I released my grasp and rolled to the right; away from the oncoming traffic. My body slammed into the curb doing about 60 KPH.

Human Damage . . . Five broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, whiplash to spine and slight internal bleeding but I was alive and complaining. What lessons did I learn from this, you ask?

Always and I mean always, stay sharp and alert to crap on the road surface. Mine was wet concrete and was not easily detected. (Metro Police did not lay charges and told the missus that I never had a chance) Practice, practice, and more practice, riding your machine and I don’t mean on dry paved roads. You should be proficient at panic situations on all surfaces. It is my advice that you should practice riding on sand, gravel, mud, wet grass, broken pavement and obstacles on the road surface. What obstacles you ask? Whadda ya got? I talked recently with a biker that happened upon a plastic sign lying flat on the asphalt in the intersection. He never saw it and braked while it was under him. He was surfin’ and screwed!  You should practice adverse conditions, at slow speeds, at a quiet location and in the company of your Buds.

There is no substitute for experience. It saved my butt.

Wear a DOT helmet . . . Mine looked like it had been gone over with a sledgehammer but I didn’t get as much as a headache. My melon hit the curb first and, had it not been for the protection of that device, I would probably have been known as Mr. Goohead. (Could be, I’ve already been tagged with that moniker??) I know what you’re thinkin’; Oh Geez, here he goes again. But no, I’m not gonna preach about helmet use because I believe it should be an individual decision – at least for riders over the age of consent. I began riding when there were zero helmet laws and I protested the introduction of the helmet law by throwing my lid (alongside many of my Bro’s lids) onto the steps of Queen’s Park. For years I rode illegal, ripping the stuffing outta my lids and then, when they became available, running beanies. Then Gary Busey (The Buddy Holly Story) changed my opinion about helmets. I had the good fortune to rap with him just after his mishap in L.A. His head was just beginning to sprout fuzz but there was no mistaking the zipper scar on his scalp. He had undergone brain surgery after a very slow speed crash. He was not wearing a helmet. His experience, and his philosophy about the priorities in life, changed my point of view.

Thanks Gary, you were right on! It is more important to be living cool than to be lookin’ cool!

There are many other ways and means to help you survive a crash:  Know your machine and it’s limitations >>> Take some advanced courses in motorcycle training or attend a motorcycle racing school >>> Practice slow speed balance maneuvers >>> Keep your scooter in top condition (Three things you cannot ignore; brakes, wheels, and steering) >>> Learn traffic patterns and always look three vehicles ahead >>> Avoid mobile confrontations with the cagers, U WILL LOSE >>> Expect the unexpected (I once had a seagull crash into the side of my helmet and while touring Gaspe’ was almost  t-boned by a Clydesdale as it came crashing out of the bush) and always ride sober.

Outside of all this, my best advice to you is; Train for that ugly day when SHIT HAPPENS cuz “If you do the miles, the percentages dictate that you’re gonna go down.”

 Scary Larry -President PPMC

Posted in freedom, motorcycle safety, motorcycles | 1 Comment

Who Deserves Your (Biker) Vote?

Back in February 2011, members of the OCC Executive and the OCC Political Action Committee delivered a presentation, to the Minister of Transport for Ontario, requesting a change to the rules governing HOV access to include single rider motorized vehicles.  The presentation was not successful and we were patted politely on our heads and sent away.  During that meeting, I inquired as to the lack of interest in biker related issues (by the current Liberal government) citing the absence of ANY government representative in attendance at the BRO Fallen Riders Memorial which is held every year on the front lawn of Queens Park.  The minister made a big show of delegating one of her minions to note the event and make sure that someone would represent her office at the memorial.  Fast forward to the memorial and the absence of political presence was, once again, non-existent.  I cracked to one of the security guards on duty who found my inquiry, as to representative attendance on a Saturday, quite amusing but I was not amused.  Motorcycle riders are the fastest growing demographic regarding licensing and vehicle registration and yet we are unable to find any government consideration in addressing our valid concerns regarding motorcycle issues in Ontario.  Over the past four years, the Ontario Confederation of Clubs has collected over 2000 signatures in support of single-rider access to Ontario HOV lanes but the current Liberal government will not consider our petition and continues to display a complete disregard for biker related issues. 

This October, we find ourselves, although briefly, occupying the position of power.   Now it is our turn to display callousness and arrogance by vaporizing the Liberal non-representative in our area.  I realize that the spectrum of choices is dull but the current government has displayed a complete lack of impetus and concern regarding a no-brainer change to the existing rules governing HOV access.  As a voter, I believe that this displays the three-monkey stance so commonplace with majority governments.  This is a government that no longer considers the concerns of the citizens it purports to represent, preferring instead to blindly follow the dictates of the Liberal party mandate.  It’s time to dump Dalton and his disinterested attitude toward unresolved biker issues in the Province of Ontario.

One final note . . . I attended Critter’s recent Show &Shine (great event, Brother) and while in conversation with a full patch member of a local club, I was astounded to learn that there are yet bikers out there that are not aware of the OCC petition seeking single-rider access to Ontario HOV lanes located on 400 series highways.  Interested parties and supporters are invited to sign our petition online by visiting www.ipetitions.com/petition/occ  or by emailing treasurer@occ4u.org  and I’ll get a petition sheet to you via return email.

Larry Lilly

OCC Treasurer

 

Posted in freedom, motorcycles | 1 Comment

Placid Pigs

For the past three years, the membership of Perfect Pigs MC has been jonesin’ for a club road trip but due to family, business and other responsibilities – it was always shelved. Finally, this September, we were able to field a contingent to make the journey to Lake Placid NY.

All week, the reports had touted excellent weather and they didn’t disappoint.  Nine Pigs crossed the border in bright sunshine and the conditions never wavered for the rest of the three-day weekend.  I held the lead with Son of Fat Boy riding second position with Last Chance steady in the Sweep position.  Rolled on through downtown Watertown, NY- ogling the female pedestrian traffic made a tedious passage actually pleasant (great tatas and tatts). The column advanced east along Highway 3 and I was beginning to crave food. SOFB mentioned a spot but was unable to recall the location.  A dilapidated inn was in view but I was sure it was a derelict until my nostrils flared at the aroma of home cooking.  I moved the line into a fast U-turn and we rolled into the gravel parking lot.  What a pleasant surprise when the interior revealed an ambiance that was far removed from the exterior.  The food was excellent, the portions were adequate and the beer was cold.  I have forgotten the name of the inn but it is just past the 3A cutoff.  If you travel this area, stop by and say “Howdy” you won’t be disappointed.

Highway 3 cuts across the Adirondack foothills and meanders through some very beautiful country.  The road gently curves through Cranberry Lake, Tupper Lake and ended (for us) at Saranac Lake.  The ever-present peaks of the Adirondack mountain range beckoned to us from the distance.  Exiting Saranac Lake, we followed Highway 86 into Lake Placid. This highway offers superb twisties while panoramic vistas play peek-a-boo around every bend.  The town of Lake Placid is a bustling place with numerous motorcycles rolling through the center of town but the Pigs managed a head-turning entrance which was noted - a revelation that would play itself out on Saturday night.  After checking into our pig-digs; we mounted up (once again) and rode for pizza and some refreshing libation.

Bright - a dazzling, diamond-bright Saturday morning . . . following a substantial breakfast (this army marches on its stomach), the group moved tightly through the winding ‘ess bends on its task to reach the summit of Whiteface Mountain.  The pavement to the top is fair with numerous frost heaves and rough spots, but it is well worth the eye-candy rewards that present themselves along the route.  The attendants guided us into a space which allowed us to park together.  The journey from here is totally pedestrian. There are two routes to the summit; one is an elevator ride (28 stories) or a path that challenges the fit.  Motorcycle boots are not designed for rock climbing so I, along with most of our group, chose the elevator but there were a couple of Pigs that proved you don’t need mud for Perfect Pig footing.  At the top there is an additional rock pile, approximately six feet above the pedestrian traffic, that sports a mountain shaped sign proclaiming ‘el. 4867 ft. Whiteface Mt.’ where we enjoyed the photo-op before returning to the machines.  The descent was much quicker than the ascent and we decided that there was a ton of ridin’ yet to be enjoyed.  We decided to head south and stopped in Schroon Lake for another delicious lunch (this army marches -yada, yada, yada) before beating it back to our Lake Placid base of operations.  The group decided that since this was our last night in town we would take advantage of the free transport service to the local sports bar so everyone could enjoy some wobbly-pops without the fear of DWI.  Supper was pure wholesome biker fare – chicken wings, beer and the company of your club brothers. Outstanding!  Four hours later, duh Pigs were kicking-back with a nightcap in the  motel parking lot (aka Pig Patio) when we were joined by a representative of the local M.C. Following a couple of beers, it was revealed that he noticed our roll down Main Street and was curious about our cut.  Last Chance scorched with our guest about whose big 106-inch would prevail in a road race.  Balls got busted but it was declared a draw and thoroughly enjoyed in the spirit of brotherhood.

The crew was up and away early Sunday morning.  Last Chance took the lead, SOFB in second spot with moi’ sweeping the blacktop.  The route took us North to the south shore of the St. Lawrence River which we followed west to the border.  It was a great road trip and I was all the better for the camaraderie.  Thanks to SOFB, Last Chance, Big Red, Curly, Mad One, Ironsides, Happy and Rock for expanding an old biker’s memories and experiences.  To the other Men Pigs who couldn’t join us  . . .  you were missed but hey, there is always next year, Eh?

Video URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkYDCbSHpQ0&feature=player_embedded

Scary 1

President & Founder PPMC

Posted in freedom, motorcycles | Tagged | 2 Comments

3rd Annual Heroes Highway Ride

The Heroes Highway Ride and Rally is an annual motorcycle event to raise awareness and demonstrate civilian respect for the sacrifices, bravely given, by members of our valiant military, past, present and future. The ride is hosted by the 18 members of the Perfect Pigs M.C. and is held the first Saturday in June to coincide with the anniversary of D-Day. The HHR is a free event, that’s right, Ollie. IT’S FREE! The event boasts zero registration or entry fees but does accept donations to benefit the Wounded Warriors, an organization that assists returning vets and their families.

The efforts of the past year were finally being realized in the parking lot of the Ten-Acre Truck Stop. Bikes were already marshalling when the Perfect Pigs M.C. arrived at 08:00 hrs. Under a brooding and ominous sky, the Pigs directed motorcycles of every make, model and configuration to their spot in the ever-expanding sea of motorcycles. Weather reports garnered, from the arriving bikers, were depressing. A cold front was moving into the area from the West causing severe rainstorms but the steady stream of bikers never abated and continued to flow into the lot. The rain began, first spitting but quickly accelerated into a downpour that, amazingly, never altered the flow of bikers rapidly filling the huge parking lot.

The deluge was pounding the participants when Rockin’ Rod introduced Lou DeVuono, Vice-President of the PPMC and organizer of the event, who welcomed the participants, followed by Pastor Dave of Kawartha Bikers Church, who blessed the event, followed by a message from yours truly, the President of the Perfect Pigs M.C.  At 11:00 hrs, the bikes roared to life and the OPP cruisers moved to block the intersection as the line of machines followed the four Golden Helmets out of the lot and headed south to circumvent CFB Trenton. Highway #2 was closed just east of the facility due to CFB Trenton hosting an Open House, but the barricades were lifted to allow our procession to pass the base. Many of the Eight Wing personnel were at attention and saluted as the ride moved past in one long, determined convoy. The conga line exited the base road and entered the street that was the official origin of the Highway of Heroes.  We were now travelling the exact route of repatriation that so many of our fallen heroes have journeyed onto their final resting place – the gentle and loving arms of this land, our Canada. The residents of this street, oblivious to the pouring rain, stood proud with flags waving as we motored on to our destination. My tears mingled with the rivulets of water cascading off my helmet, spurred by the realization that my discomfort was temporary and incidental in comparison to the daily experiences of our military and their families.

As the ride rolled onto the overpass, we could see that the westbound highway was completely blocked by the OPP and would stay that way until all the bikes were rolling, as one unit, along the wet asphalt to Oshawa. All along the route, stationed on the many overpasses and at the side of the highway were people with Canadian flags waving proudly, standing in the downpour to express their encouragement and support of our mission. The rain seemed to accelerate as we approached the final 50 kilometers. As we rolled into Durham Region, two uniformed police officers stood at attention, hands raised in salute, and I couldn’t help but grin broadly while musing that the many clubbers (my crew included) that had joined us in this display of respect were now, ironically, experiencing a gesture of respect from their nemesis. Although short lived, it is the coming together under this one common act of patriotism that dissolves all barriers of prejudice and discrimination. Man, I wish we could isolate the gene and inject it into the world water supply!

The rain had finally petered out as the bikes entered the City of Oshawa and were boisterously greeted by throngs of cheering onlookers. We continued onward, waving and grinning at the people who were waving and grinning back at us. Military personnel in camouflaged fatigues halted the procession in front of the Col. R.S. McLaughlin Armoury and quickly directed us to park diagonally on both sides of the street. I backed in beside an armoured personnel carrier which dwarfed Duh Zombie. Riders, including myself and the Bootiful Babs, scurried to find a place to shed our wet duds and dry off. I spoke with some riders, including a couple of my Pigs who were experiencing ‘black hand’ (no Ollie, not pressure from the mafia) but a malignancy that occurs following a severe bout of riding in the rain. The main cause of this affliction is the purchasing of cheap riding gloves that have been water-dyed black in Pakistan. Minstrel show, anyone? Once dry clothes and strong coffee were secured, we busied ourselves with the attractions of the rally.

Opening ceremonies included a presentation to the Wounded Warriors of $1175.00 by 12 year -old Kyra Beach who raised the monies after hearing of our ride on May 18th. Next was a presentation by the Wounded Warriors to our own Lou DeVuono. The musical portion followed, providing a backdrop to the rally. The riders wandered amongst the many vendors that lined the street; while others enjoyed the informative tours of the parked military vehicles and equipment that dotted the perimeter of the armoury. Others busily signed up for the Classy Chassis Motorcycle Show & Shine; while stunt motorcycle riders performed acrobatics in the air high above the area. Crowds of people mingled with the bikers and enjoyed each other while Q107’s Michael White Band stirred the cauldron.  Also on site was the Kin Canada’s Portraits of Honour, a poignant travelling mural which displays the portraits of all 155 Canadian soldiers that have been killed in Afghanistan. The mural impacts you with the stunning array of young, unlined faces whose piercing eyes follow you as you move through the display. Tears, once again, welled to the surface as we stared into those brave, guiltless faces. I spoke with Dave Sopha, the artist, who informed me that he decided to do the mural in December 2008 and that each portrait took approximately 60 hours with the total mural representing over 6500 hours of dedication to complete. He also revealed that he was an airbrush artist by trade but decided that the portrait should be done utilizing oil paint on canvas in order to withstand the ravages of time. A learning curve that did not deter him from his task! The mural encompasses the entire side of a 10 foot high by 40 foot long tractor-trailer and is on a tour in Ontario throughout June.

The final HHR stats are impressive – OPP estimated the procession was comprised of 3000 plus motorcycles – Final count of the donations generated by the ride and the rally was $28,500.00 but this was actual cash raised on the day – but not reflected in the numbers, is the huge PR awareness campaign that will undoubtedly result in further post-ride donations. One final reward was shared by the serving military in attendance and disclosed to this reporter – our grass-roots event impacted them far more than other official tribute because of the unabashed outpouring of respect and gratitude; particularly impressive was that the biker’s enthusiasm never dimmed despite the rigorous and uncomfortable journey of the individual riders. Echoes of the Army way, Hoorah!

A very special ‘You Rock’ to the many friends of the Pigs, both individuals and clubs, that turned out in support. There are too many to acknowledge in the short space remaining but you know who you are and you know that your presence made it a memorable day for me and mine.

My sincere and grateful ‘thumbs up’ to all the bikers who turned out despite the rugged riding conditions and made this the largest one-day ride in Canada. YOU . . . Ya, each and every one of you . . . BE ACES!!

Scary Larry aka Larry Lilly

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEljKecO9jA

 

Posted in freedom, motorcycles | 2 Comments

Roadside in-Justice

Back in June, I attended an S&S hosted by a member club of the OCC. The BEU had a roadblock at the entrance of the street and directed my crew into their space. During the course of collecting our paperwork, attempts were made to gather additional information but these were met with silence accompanied by blank stares. The lead interrogator was an intense piece of work who insisted on pressing the issue. During the course of our debate, I informed him that I was under no obligation to render any information beyond normal identification. Long story short, he informed me “we can do this the easy way or the hard way!” I politely inquired as to “what was the hard way?” He informed me that they were prepared to issue BS tickets, (mufflers, lids etc.) that would require my presence in court, thereby adding further misery to this unjust and unwarranted interference into my daily life. I retorted that I (accompanied by my legal advisers) would enjoy our day in court to illuminate this extortion which was being foisted on a law-abiding citizen. It was beginning to heat up when a mature (grey haired) OPP official exited the van and broke up the pissing contest. Now, none of this is unusual in a clubbers life but it, and subsequent events, stimulated me to peck out this article.

Later in the day, I was rapping with some brothers from one of our member clubs. One of the brothers asked my advice concerning his rights while being jacked at the roadside. I reminded the group that the OCC has documented basic civil rights on the OCC website (under Information button) and it has also been discussed and recorded in detail throughout many other biker websites, blogs and publications. It is up to you, collectively or as individuals, to know those rights and exercise them. It is also important to document the incident (for reference) if you feel that you have been subjected to unlawful discrimination and harassment simply because of your lifestyle choice.

Fast forward to Friday, August 13th. Six Perfect Pigs (and one Pig supporter visiting from Portugal) are jacked on the 403 ramp to the QEW. It was a very hot morning and the traffic was forced to inch around our gathering, which had spilled out onto the pavement due to the rather narrow shoulder. There are four cruisers, three B&W and one unmarked piloted by another two-legged pile of resentment who busied himself with gathering our paperwork. Again, I politely inquired the reasoning for this unreasonable and dangerous roadside inquisition. His answer was that he could hear our pipes a kilometer away. Now this statement was almost drowned out other by bikes with straight pipes brakk, brakk, brakking by us. None of which were ridden by patch holders and none of which were waved over by any of the other officers who were basically loitering. Based on that statement, I asked if he was going to issue any tickets. His reply was “only if I get attitude”. Do you see a pattern developing here? I informed him that he could consider my next remark as attitude and went into my lecture about citizen rights abuses and unreasonable intrusion into the lives of honest citizens. He stormed off to play with his computer and the outcome, you ask? No charges were laid. In fact, just before we roared away and after he had emerged as a somewhat more contrite officer, he informed me that they had jacked twenty motorcycle groups and no tickets were issued.

Now what conclusions can be garnered from these snapshots of roadside injustice? The obvious is that bowing to the “easy way or the hard way” is not an option. When you buy into that, you lose a whole lot more than you realize. It has been my experience that there are very, very few tickets issued as a result of NOT engaging in conversation with these officers. Yet some are inevitably issued, mostly due to situations overheating. Keep your head in these encounters! Losing your temper is simply buying into their perception of bikers. Most likely, your firmness should be enough to prove your point but occasionally there will be an unjust and unwarranted violation issued. I know it’s a bitch to take time off work to fight these annoyances but it is important to apply our own version of the ‘easy way or the hard way’. If more bikers practiced peaceful but firm insistence of invoking their civil rights then, I believe that this intrusive tactic will prove pointless as an information gathering tool and incidences will either slow or stop altogether. These are your rights and their abusing of those rights is an abomination on our justice system. Dig this; a black (could be a Muslim, could be an Asian) man commits a murder. In the aftermath, have you ever seen any road blocks checking vehicles simply because they were piloted by a black (Muslim or Asian) man? And you never will because those minorities have established that they are willing to resist and stand up for their rights.

At the roadside; be polite but firm during questioning. You have the right to ask the officer: for his/her name, badge number and detachment; why you are being detained; to have a witness and counsel to all questioning (although a recent decision in the Appeal Court may have cancelled this out); if you are not given a valid reason for being detained i.e. highway traffic act violation or unsafe vehicle etc., you can refuse information and request to leave but be prepared for the possible consequences. Remember to keep your head and don’t volunteer information. Even if the detention is illegal, don’t incriminate yourself.

On a final note, this summer I have been noticing a glut of fresh patches at some of the local events, particularly Friday the 13th. They say if you live long enough, you will eventually see everything! Is there anything lamer than someone sporting a fictitious club logo specifically designed by one of the negatively biased theatrical shows depicting bikers? Answer is . . . Hell yah!! Some of these wannabees have established themselves as the leaders of lame by adding a disrespectful territory patch to insinuate that they are part of a larger organized group. When did the Wild Hogs, or the Sons of Anarchy, establish chapters in Ontario? Is it frivolity, or a need to belong, or is this simply the result of far too many hours of being mesmerized by movies and TV? Most likely the latter as they are probably too thick to realize that they are indirect contributors to the corrupted media and public perception of the clubber lifestyle! Motorcycle Club members have earned the right to display their allegiance to their club. Their patch, and the right to wear that patch, was not concocted by some Hollywood hack bent on sensationalism; it was earned by sacrifice and dedication. In my humble opinion, buying into the Hollywood distortion of biker life and displaying support for same, by wearing those patches, is akin to wearing a strap-on to overcome other personal inadequacies.

Larry Lilly aka Scary Larry
President PPMC
OCC Treasurer

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The Chi of Rollin’ Two Big Wheels

When does it strike? That sensation that propels you forward and suddenly you find yourself hanging around a motorcycle dealership. Is it age demographics, stress management, a need for speed, the sensation of freedom, or a desire to be noticed? What changes take place in the chemistry of the brain that send the message to the inner self, the time has come to mount up and ride! Right now, at this very moment, there is a brand new motorcycle packed in a crate or strapped to a pallet that is destined to belong to some unsuspecting schnook, somewhere in the world, that has no idea he is about to become one of our fraternity brothers.

You see them all the time. Spend some time in a motorcycle showroom (or at a bike show) and witness the transformation. Awwww, c’mon honey, I just wanna look! You won’t see the expression on all the faces, some are pro’s at masking the emotion. The majority are totally unabashed in their lust for two-wheel satisfaction. Powerful unseen forces are at work here! The smell of the place; that unmistakable mixture of new paint and leather, light glinting off the chrome and steel, the demeanor of the leather people milling around. All factors that significantly alter organized thought patterns and reduce all logic to one basic denominator. I gotta ride! There it is, see it? The vacant expression, the fixated stare; reminiscent of Michael Corleone’s Sicilian Thunderbolt in the Godfather Part 1. They (the chrome zombies) will be afflicted until financing is complete. We (you/me/all bikers) will never be cured because we will always lust after some painted hussy that flashes her headlights every fall when the new model year is paraded before us.

Sympathy! That’s what you should extend to these poor unfortunates when they pause to admire your big machine and comment “nice bike”. They can only covet what is second nature to you. So remember, the very next time a senior member of the human race or an ardent fan of your particular brand of scoot admires your ride, pause for a spell and let him savor, even if only momentarily, the presence of what is probably your most healing material possession. Give them the moment to reminisce or dream. I guarantee you will be all the better for the experience. The bonus will come the minute you fire it up and roll away. Knowing full well that their eyes will be following you and admiring your cool. That, me beauties, is payback time! It is at that precise moment that you can honestly declare “Eat your heart out” to all your detractors. That is the moment when you realize “the best revenge is livin’ well and hangin’ loose”.

Catch ya later . . . when yer hair is straighter!

Larry Lilly aka Scary Larry

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Thoughts on Mortality (from an observer waiting in line)

Time is a relentless and cruel master. Sooner or later we all fall victim to the ravages and onslaughts of a life lived well and, for some, not so well. These revelations have been forced upon my lifestyle because I now share, along with some of you, the dubious status of senior citizenry. The main character in Willard Motley’s book ‘Knock on Any Door’ frequently repeats the line “Live fast, die young and have a good looking corpse” and for most of my early life I subscribed to that philosophy. Matter of fact, upon looking back, I am somewhat amazed that I lived beyond my thirtieth year. For the most part, I suppose that could be said of anyone that subscribed to the hippie lifestyle of the sixties and seventies. Once, in a rather intoxicated state of mind, I decided to list my three most desirable methods to exit this mortal world. I won’t divulge my choices but they certainly do not reflect my current state of mind. These days, I would much prefer to expire due to a fatal and instantaneous heart attack at exactly the precise moment of sexual gratification or more precisely, I want to be both coming and going.

Recently, my family experienced the loss of my father. His name was Allan and he lived a quiet life but it wasn’t always that way. He, along with many of his peers, enlisted to fight in WWII and he served valiantly for six long years. He helped liberate Holland, France and saw action in almost every country in the European theater. He starved, froze and yearned for home but he never shirked his duty. He was brave. The five medals that adorn the plaque in his, now empty, room testify to that bravery. Displayed on that plaque are his tartan and an insignia that he wore proudly; it is the insignia of the Signal Corps. He served as a motorcycle dispatch rider and the significant contribution of these riders was detailed in a Toronto Star article featuring the important role the Canadian Army dispatch riders played in the liberation of Europe. During that time in his life, he most definitely came face to face with his own mortality and, because of his passing, I now find myself musing about the inevitable cycle of life. The aboriginals philosophize that all one can strive for is ‘to live a good life and die a good death’ but I seriously doubt that most humans will have that option. Al expired from liver cancer and I’m positive, if he had his druthers, he would have opted for another more glamorous method of departure. He was, once again, brave at the end and, in my opinion, he most definitely ‘died a good death’.

Life begins, life ends and we expect to find some happiness in the precious few years allocated to our life span. In retrospect, I have lived a good life and I would not change much even if I had the chance. I have lived, loved, laughed and count myself wealthy by the many lovers and friends that have populated my life. I’m not planning to depart this world anytime soon but if I should leave prematurely I would not have any regrets. As for the part about ‘dying a good death’ . . . it is my fantasy and self-indulgence that my headstone be emblazoned with the epitaph, “Biker, age 99, shot to death by three jealous husbands”.

Larry Lilly aka Scary 1

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Scary Falls Down and Goes Splat!

Forty-Six years . . . Not exactly a drop in the bucket but exactly the number of years I’ve been piloting my scooters around Trawnna. I grew up in Parkdale and cut my biker teeth on the downtown roads, streetcar tracks and all. In my puppy years, I built my own rides out of baskets and rode by the seat of my pants. In recent years, I’ve been fortunate to own some very classy machines and have logged miles all over North America. Over the years, I became cocky and thought the city’s streets held no more surprises for me. Huge miscalculation!

King St . . . West of Strachan . . . East of Dufferin . . . A minefield of hazards (Metro Police report about 40 bike accidents in one year on this stretch of road) but definitely rideable. Paul and I had ridden through earlier in the day on our way downtown. Next stop was a social rap with my amigo Rob at Toronto Harley. We had planned to boogie on the Gardiner but this was out of the question because it was the first day of the Ex and traffic was at a standstill. We decided to backtrack. It was raining lightly but it posed no concern as we roared away.

Paul was ahead of me and to the right side of the lane. A compact car separated us so when it signaled a right turn; I swung out to pass. I was between the streetcar tracks (nothing unusual as most of the time I ride there when on King St.) And after the car turned, I moved to fall in behind Paul. The bike slid uncontrollably to the left. I heard and sensed the vibrations as my engine guard scraped the pavement. I juiced the throttle and Big Booo righted to ninety degrees. I gently applied the brakes and lost control. The bike slid sharply to the right and now gravity had me in its grasp and I was going down. No panic. My mind was calm as I slid down King St. with my hands busily steering Booo away from wrapping around a hydro pole. Once clear, I released my grasp and rolled to the right; away from the oncoming traffic. My body slammed into the curb doing about 50 KPH.

Human Damage . . . Five broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, whiplash to spine and slight internal bleeding but I was alive and complaining. What lessons did I learn from this, you ask?

Always and I mean always, stay sharp and alert to crap on the road surface. Mine was wet concrete and was not easily detected. (Metro Police did not lay charges and told the missus that I never had a chance) Practice, practice, and more practice, riding your machine and I don’t mean on dry paved roads. You should be proficient at panic situations on all surfaces. It is my advice that you should practice riding on sand, gravel, mud, wet grass, broken pavement and obstacles on the road surface. What obstacles you ask? Whadda ya got? I talked recently with a biker that happened upon a plastic sign lying flat on the asphalt in the intersection. He never saw it and braked while it was under him. Care to guess the outcome? You can practice adverse conditions, at slow speeds, at a quiet location and in the company of your Buds.

There is no substitute for experience. It saved my butt.

Wear a DOT helmet . . . Mine looked like it had been gone over with a sledgehammer but I didn’t get as much as a headache. My melon hit the curb first and, had it not been for the protection of that device, I would probably have been known as Mr. Goohead. (Could be, I’ve already been tagged with that moniker??) I know what you’re thinkin’; Oh Geez, here he goes again. But no, I’m not gonna preach about helmet use because I believe it should be an individual decision. At least for riders over the age of consent. I began riding when there were no helmet laws and I protested the law by throwing my helmet (alongside many of my Bro’s helmets) onto the steps of Queen’s Park. For years I rode illegal, ripping the stuffing outta my lids and then, when they became available, running beanies. Then Gary Busey (The Buddy Holly Story) changed my opinion about helmets. I had the good fortune to rap with him just after his mishap in L.A. His head was just beginning to sprout fuzz but there was no mistaking the zipper scar on his scalp. He had undergone brain surgery after a very slow speed crash. He was not wearing a helmet. His experience, and his philosophy about the priorities in life, changed my point of view.

Thanks Gary, you were right on! It is more important to be living cool than to be lookin’ cool!

There are many other ways and means to help you survive a crash: Know your machine and it’s limitations >>> Take some advanced courses in motorcycle training or attend a motorcycle racing school >>> Practice slow speed balance maneuvers >>> Keep your scooter in top condition (Three things you cannot ignore; brakes, wheels, and steering) >>> Learn traffic patterns and always look three vehicles ahead >>> Avoid mobile confrontations with the cagers, U WILL LOSE >>> Expect the unexpected (I once had a seagull crash into the side of my helmet and while touring Gaspe’ was almost t-boned by a Clydesdale as it came crashing out of the bush) and always ride sober.

Outside of all this, my best advice to you is; Train for that ugly day when SHIT HAPPENS cuz “If you do the miles, the percentages dictate that you’re gonna go down.”

Larry Lilly aka Scary Larry

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