Chapter Seven:
Building a Biker Community
Beginning with news media reports from Hollister, California, in 1947, the American public received a fairly cohesive image of bikers and motorcycle clubs. Occasionally positive aspects of motorcycling would make it into print or on to the screen. In those cases bikers would not necessarily be seen as role models for American youth, but as victims of overzealous police officers or simply as individuals looking for an outlet for self–expression. Life as an outlaw, however, was generally a diversion, a deadend on the way to responsible citizenship. Motorcycle culture might also be the source of fashion trends — black leather, denim, tattoos — but bringing them into the mainstream required a certain amount of laundering, or at least presentation through a non–threatening medium such as television and Happy Days’ Arthur Fonzarelli.
The image of bikers and motorcycle culture as created by the mainstream news and entertainment media received a challenge when Easyriders, “Entertainment for Adult Bikers,” debuted as a bi–monthly in the summer of 1971. An editorial staff composed of experienced cyclists saw the magazine as a chance to reach all bikers, not just the “dirty fingernail types,” and to address the issue of motorcycling as a way of life rather than just transportation: “A big part of it is the simple thumbing of your nose at established society. A bike, a chopper, is just about the ultimate in ‘look at me — I’m different and I’m proud of it.’” (1)
Those eager to condemn the magazine saw no need for bawdy cartoons or naked women in a magazine dedicated to motorcycles. A few complained that it further damaged motorcycling’s already poor image, that it was not fit for homes with small children. Others discovered a magazine that addressed an audience long ignored: “I want to compliment you on your rag. All other chopper magazines appeal to a mass audience, which unfortunately includes 12 and 13 year old kids.” (2)
A year and a half later, in December 1972, Easyriders’ staff announced the magazine would publish eight times a year. By 1976 it was monthly. Despite competition from more than a dozen established motorcycle magazines, such as Cycle and Road Rider, Easyriders openly embraced the “badass biker” image and carved out a successful niche. Its readers were not the country’s motorcycle enthusiasts, they already had magazines devoted to their interests. It was not for AMA members, motorcycle racers or dirt–bike riders, either. For the Easyriders reader, motorcycles were not just transportation or recreation, they were, quite simply, a way of life. Easyriders was a magazine for bikers, men who defined themselves by what they rode.
Though it did not own the niche for long, the first decade of Easyriders’ existence was a crucial one for what it reveals about one–percenters. It was also a critical period for the Harley–Davidison Motor Company. Sold to American Machine & Foundry (AMF) in 1968 to avoid a hostile takeover by Japanese manufacturers, Harley’s reputation as the leading manufacturer of heavyweight motorcycles crumbled under the weight of AMF’s marketing mistakes and increased competition from abroad. In 1981 the company was sold and began a rebirth that not only re–established the company’s reputation, but changed the image of motorcycling and dragged it kicking and screaming into the American mainstream. The first ten years of Easyriders also paralleled a decade of change for motorcyclists. After the violence and media attention that peaked at Altamont Raceway, everyone on a motorcycle was suspect. If the lifestyle was to survive, the public’s perception of bikers, and bikers’ image of themselves, had to change.
Like the men’s adventure fiction genre, biker magazines and their content can easily be dismissed as “junk,” as undeserving of critical attention. It is important to remember, however, that publications such as Easyriders and its more recent imitators reveal that there exists space for media to question consensus opinion. The biker media and biker fiction genres developed to minister to the needs of a specific audience, one that considered itself oppressed. Laws and freedoms enjoyed by “citizens” seemingly did not extend to those working class individuals who lived a hardscrabble, sometimes criminal, biker lifestyle. Biker magazines were one of those “popular tastes and pleasures” described by John Fiske as a response to class antagonism which would maintain and validate the culture’s “difference from the social relations and identities, the knowledges and behaviours proposed for them by the hegemonic order.” (3)
Clearly, the content of biker magazines expresses a singular perspective on “the way things ought to be.” As Peter Larsen argues, genres are systems that “function ‘ideologically’ in the sense that they reproduce and reinforce beliefs of how social reality is (and should be) structured.” (4) Easyriders and the magazines that would eventually share its niche — Biker, Outlaw Biker and Iron Horse — speak to a specific audience through language and imagery it can interpret. They are, moreover, voices for a community. Rob Anderson, Robert Dardenne and George Killenberg note that “within a pluralistic society, packets of smaller communities, both territorial and associational, struggle to retain identity and solidarity within a larger community of competing values, priorities and goals.” (5) Their analysis suggests the essence of community media is to define and establish its values, resolve problems that divide it and connect people through “shared experience and fate.” (6)
But as has been noted many times, the biker community has changed drastically since the country first became aware of its existence. With the resurgence of Harley–Davidson, American heavyweight motorcycles became more than just fashionable. Their popularity, especially with the country’s affluent urban professionals, has left many working–class Harley faithful bitter and angry.
The motor company did not go alone; Easyriders went with it, altering its look and editorial content to appeal to the new age, yuppie biker. It also diversified, buying up or creating new “lifestyle” magazines for its niche readers, and created its own line of pricey motor clothes. The array of magazines that profess to speak for America’s bikers has to be broad enough to appeal to longtime Harley riders, some who may have been or still are patch–holding members of outlaw clubs, as well as the many brokers, dentists and lawyers who mount up for weekend runs and HOG (Harley Owners Group) parties.
In the 1970s, a few magazines did attempt to reach the motorcycle–riding audience but they used a different tone of voice than Easyriders. Cycle, one of the first specialty magazines for motorcyclists, damaged its image with Harley faithful when it wrote, “We feel that American motorcycling has been invented by the Japanese manufacturers.” (7) Its position on other issues in the 1970s was also far too conciliatory for hardcore bikers. For example, articles addressed bikers’ responsibility as “custodians” of the environment. That meant urban “motorcycle freaks” who journeyed to the countryside on weekends should clean up their act with quieter, cleaner–running bikes and they should stick to the highway or designated motorcycle trails. (8)
An article on touring was even clearer in its distaste for bikers who damaged the image of “serious” riders: “I am colorful as hell, but I do not fit the bad–ass stereotype. Thus I avoid unnecessary problems with my fellow man. . . . If I take the small amount of trouble to avoid displaying the bad symbols, then society is happy, and I can pretty much run wild without upsetting anyone.” (9) Needless to say, the desire to compromise was not on the minds of biker outlaws.
Cycle addressed those who felt cyclists had been singled out as the nation’s fall guy, but suggested readers rally behind the AMA (American Motorcycle Association) since the majority of its members “bathed regularly, dressed normally — and never chained strangers.” (10) That was not the magazine’s only broadside at one–percenters. Writer Art Guerrero’s skepticism concerning the new, friendlier Hell’s Angels chapter in New York City is clear in a 1970 piece. Though the club did perform some good deeds, Guerrero wrote, “at the center of their existence there still lies strong potential for instant violence.” (11)
And in an editorial headlined “Conversation With an Idiot,” Cook Neilson draws a less than flattering image of those cyclists who modified their bikes. Again, noise becomes an issue because running a motorcycle without mufflers or baffles only antagonizes non–bikers. But Neilson also attacks other modifications common among chopper riders, such as the removal of fenders, front brakes and air cleaners. He closes the piece with one last bit of undisguised sarcasm: “‘Nice talking to you. Not often we have a chance to meet such a dyed–in–the–wool biker, a guy who’s made motorcycling the great sport it is today.’” (12)
Street Chopper and Custom Chopper came closer to voicing the outlaw bikers’ concerns in the 1970s, but again compromise was the favored editorial solution. Custom Chopper’s preference for legal lobbying went to the Modified Motorcycle Association (MMA), which it described as “a cross between that of an outlaw biker and a super straight AMA road riding club.” (13) The benefit of the MMA was that it retained a biker look while stressing political organization and coordination. It proposed service projects such as Toys for Tots, food drives for shut–ins and blood drives, and suggested bikers who had been unfairly hassled by police use something called a “snivel card.” A cyclist would describe the particulars of an incident on the card and send it to the MMA. It would then be “filed until such time as an accumulation of cards listing one officer looks suspect. These cards are then pulled and hand carried to the cop’s superior, and up the chain of command until a satisfactory disposition is made.” (14) The understanding and patience necessary to the card’s success were surely rare commodities among hardcore bikers.
Custom Chopper’s request for civility extended to events where outlaws and bikers mixed. Biker “social outings” were intended as an opportunity to swap stories, cycle parts and information. Riders could also have fun and let loose, “provided you don’t stop a length of motorcycle chain with your face.” (15) Even when a brother is killed in cold blood, as is described in “The Biker Funeral,” bikers should remain calm and let the police handle the situation. Author Larry Kumferman allows that Lucky’s death was “a senseless, blind, bigoted instant of calculated cruelty,” (16) but one which bikers should be accustomed to. Officers, he notes, “were obviously working as hard for a band of outlaw cyclists as they would for a redneck.” (17) Such peaceful co–existence, the reader is led to believe, is the only way to survive. “If, under these most difficult of circumstances,” Kumferman concludes, “the club could maintain its collective conviction that there is need for outlaw bikers to peacefully co–exist with other life styles in the name of freedom and fair play, then Lucky’s luck is still holding out.” (18)
In 1971, then, Easyriders was something of an oddity among magazines addressed to motorcycle riders. Its crass humor and lowbrow fiction was mixed with glossy photos of righteous Harleys and buxom women. It spoke to a community of disenfranchised bikers, tailoring its editorial stance to a grim and occasionally violent constituency. In its first decade the magazine’s mission was threefold: educate, coordinate and celebrate. Easyriders positioned itself against the mainstream and laughed up its sleeve at those magazines that preached co–existence and compromise. Easyriders informed readers of legislation affecting motorcyclists and explained how to bend the law to their own benefit. Sprinkled in were reminders that bikers, even though it was sometimes hard to tell, had the same rights as other citizens.
The effort to educate was closely related to Easyriders’ effort to rally bikers against discriminatory police tactics and legislation. In its third issue the magazine announced the formation of an organization that would eventually become ABATE, A Brotherhood Against Totalitarian Enactments. Together with articles such as “Bikers Have Muscles — Let’s Start Using Them” and “The Meek Don’t Win,” the magazine worked to coordinate and motivate bikers. (19) Such an effort was necessary as bikers and one–percenters by nature valued their privacy, and because biker subculture, long ignored and ostracized by the AMA, received the most harassment. (20) Easyriders endeavored to convince readers they could not rely on others to fight their battles and that it was in their own best interest to temporarily put aside their differences and work together. If they did not, it warned, the biker lifestyle was at risk.
The final, and possibly the most important, aspect of Easyriders in the 1970s was that it was the first successful magazine to provide bikers a self–image they could be proud of, even if they were out of a job and their only possession was their chopper. The magazine, especially in its fiction, served as the moral entrepreneur of biker culture, endeavoring to define what inclusion in the “brotherhood of bikers” required, and, ultimately, establish what amounted to a code of acceptable behavior for its readers. Articles such as “Bikers — a National Resource,” and “A Day in the Life,” stressed camaraderie, solidarity and simplicity. (21) Similarly, the magazine’s short fiction defined deviance from the bikers’ perspective while emphasizing the inherent superiority of the biker brotherhood.
Writing in the 10th anniversary issue, editor Lou Kimzey explained that his staff’s original intent was to produce “a magazine for the readers — not a vehicle from which to sell ads. No road tests, no new products columns, no advertising ass–kissin’ at all.” (22) Other magazines could do those features. Easyriders depended on newsstand sales and advertisements for custom after–market parts and products which seemed to reflect a “biker attitude” — motorcycle clothes, patches, T–shirts, jewelry and smoking paraphernalia. The Harley–Davidson Motor Company, then owned by AMF, advertised sporadically in the late 1970s, then stopped briefly in the summer of 1978 because, as Kimzey wrote, it did not like the Easyriders image of bikers. (23) Less than a year later Harley ads returned.
Loyal Easyriders readers, who were also Harley faithful, found something they liked in the California magazine’s pages. Kimzey stressed the magazine’s honesty, an attribute which allowed its writers to “mingle with all bikers, even the really heavy ones,” and the importance of brotherhood. (24) Fights between motorcycle clubs and bikers, he argued, were just what the anti–bike forces wanted: “Don’t forget there are some types that would just as soon see us all kill each other — it would save them the trouble. And don’t forget the Nixon era when feds encouraged fighting among members of organizations and between organizations.” (25) The magazine’s method for simultaneously maintaining its credibility with bikers while educating them and creating a sense of community for all riders reinforces the fact there were rifts among bikers as well as paranoia concerning their own subordinate position in society.
Community began with a shared love of and devotion to American iron. The chromed and polished motorcycles featured in the magazine provided a standard by which all custom cycles were measured. An early photo spread defended the editors’ critical selection of featured cycles: “With the chopper popularity starting on the west coast, many years ago, the cats out here have reached such a degree of sophistication that the smallest thing could be considered unhip.” (26) Reaching that level of perfection was a labor of love and the rewards, according to an article titled “Built to Ride,” were well worth the effort. “Ron Deron is a jammer,” the piece notes, “and as such, wants a bike to look just good enough to ‘get the eyes of the chicks,’ while at the same time being able to get it on, whenever the urge grabs him.” (27)
Easyriders writers and editors often took part in events they reported on. The article “Fun and Games at The Conquistadors Annual Run” is just one example. Three pages of photos of choppers, women and grinning bikers augment the correspondent’s praise of the biker life: “Out of all biker activities, the most enjoyable one (aside from getting a little) is a weekend run. The most righteous run of all is a balls–out, fuck–the–world, theres–no–tomorrow orgy.” (28) It was only natural that Easyriders would, in time, become required reading for the biker wannabe. In his book Hog Fever, Richard LaPlante details the beginning of his own motorcycle fervor as he leafed through an issue: “Easyriders was as much about biker lifestyle as it was about the motorcycles themselves. . . . The pictures of wide, open roads, the bikes, and the people who rode them acted like a catalyst to me, brining back a strange longing for ‘sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll.’” (29)
As for the magazine’s attitude, it was fairly simple for Easyriders to separate itself from other cycle publications. Cheesecake photos and profanity distinguished it from most of them, moving it closer to Playboy or Penthouse, but without the gloss or polish. Responding to complaints printed in an early letters column, the editors were, as usual, blunt: “Easyriders is edited for adult men. . . . If you feel the magazine is vulgar in places, remember it is not vulgar for vulgarity’s sake; it is saying it like it is, as one guy would say it to another — or at least as our type of guy would.” (30) To a suggestion the magazine’s drug references would give people the wrong image of bikers, the editors wrote, “No, we don’t think Easyriders is going to give any intelligent person any wrong impression, any more than a copy of Playboy will give the impression its reader is a sex nut.” (31)
In those cases and others the magazine’s stance was, “If you don’t like it, don’t read it.” Compromise, in the early years, was foreign to Easyriders’ editors and they were quick to challenge other motorcycle magazines’ duplicity in “Biker’s Digest,” a regular feature that excerpted and occasionally responded to editorial comments that appeared in competing publications. Generally the excerpts revealed that the various motorcycle magazines were united in their stance against legislation, especially helmet laws. But when that support wavered, Easyriders was quick to point it out. Big Bike’s editor was derided simply for writing, “Mandatory helmet laws may or may not be logical.” (32)
Custom Chopper received a stronger rebuke when it snubbed ABATE and gave its support to the Motorcycle Industry Council (MIC). ABATE, Custom Chopper wrote, could not possibly succeed because it required a unified effort: “History is full of cases where consumer groups failed their mission simply because inertia in such groups is insurmountable.” (33) Easyriders, describing MIC as “an organization of manufacturers, distributors, and dealers,” argued that MIC’s interests were not those of bikers. “Talk about complacency!” Easyriders declared. “Or maybe it’s lack of interest. Either way, we feel that even one letter, one protest, one attempt to change things, is one helluva lot better than merely shrugging your shoulders and saying, ‘Goodbye freedom.’” (34)
Easyriders put its full support behind ABATE. In the October 1971 issue the article “Street Legal Chopper Circa 1973?” suggested that in two years motorcycles could be weighed down by dozens of state– and government–approved gadgets and gizmos, all intended to protect the motorcycle rider from himself. (35) The magazine introduced the National Custom Cycle Association (NCCA), which almost immediately became ABATE, as the recognized voice of motorcyclists. Its purpose was to offer organized, professional rebuttals to lawmakers who knew nothing about motorcycles and who accepted at face value complaints from anti–bike forces. It defended bikers’ interests by fighting against untested national safety standards and government efforts to eliminate “hazardous” features of custom motorcycles.
Easyriders did not miss an opportunity to proclaim victory, or to portend dire results if bikers did not work together. An early legal victory came in February 1972. Denver area bikers, with the aid of ABATE, convinced the state to reconsider a law regulating motorcycle suspensions. (36) The magazine’s monthly ABATE news pages were also a forum where members informed brothers of regional activities and changes in state regulations, and warned them away from cities where bikers were unfairly harassed by community law enforcement. The organization offered motorcyclists and bikers the chance to fight for their own interests: “We must start now to put a stop to bad laws. We must educate the people who make the laws. We must present our side of the story, and we must present it from a position of strength, and in a professional, dignified manner.” (37)
Along with efforts to coordinate legislative battles, Easyriders regularly advised readers how they could make their voices heard over the din of anti–bike forces. “A Letterwriter’s Guide to Congress” detailed how individuals could voice their opinion. (38) “The Do’s and Dont’s of Fighting Anti–Bike Legislation” laid out ABATE’s strategy for navigating the bureaucratic maze, which included arranging for lobbyists, expert witnesses and publicity. (39) But after years of fighting mandatory helmet laws, police harassment and “the myriad other infringements laid on us by a squirming bureaucracy,” the frustration showed in the article “The Meek Don’t Win.” (40) Patience and diplomacy were joined by civil disobedience and the threat of violence: “Violence as an incidental tool used to accomplish particular goals, as in response to inflicted violence, is a strategic weapon that must not be discarded. And above all, don’t run from inflicted violence.” (41)
While ABATE and lobbying symbolized Easyriders’ effort to coordinate and motivate motorcyclists nationally, the magazine also endeavored to educate bikers individually on a number of issues, some serious and some less so. Bikers being who the were, Easyriders saw a need to inform readers about the law. The article “Know Your Legal Rights When You’re Rousted” outlined Miranda rights, defined probable cause and described what constituted an illegal search because “it is only good sense that you, the biker, should know at least what your rights are. It could save you a lot of lost time in some local pokey, or a lot of green, or both.” (42)
That was likely useful information when articles such as “Grow it Yourself” and “Killer Weed” explained how to construct home greenhouses for marijuana and how to determine “the quality of a lid.” (43) “The Ins and Outs of Getting Off” detailed the effects of other illegal substances, particularly on a motorcyclist’s ability to ride. The preferred drugs were those that allow the rider “to sort out what’s important, and let the rest slide by. That’s ‘maintaining,’ and if you’re going to ride high, then that’s the road you’ve got to go.” (44) Other early articles described the Consumer Protection Act and the Consumer Credit Code, outlined changes in gun laws, described how to use the Freedom of Information Act, and argued a prisoner’s constitutional right to uncensored mail. (45)
One of the more interesting efforts to educate readers came in “Target Defendant Tactics,” a lengthy transcript of an unnamed prosecutor with a California organized crime unit discussing legal strategies that effectively frustrate outlaw clubs. An editor’s note said the article would afford “bike clubs the opportunity to see the tactics used to disrupt a club’s solidarity and cast a bad light on members trapped in the court system.” (46) While all the tactics outlined by the prosecutor would seem to be legal, such as filing cases separately and dragging them out as long as possible, whether they followed the spirit of the law is another question. The prosecutor rationalizes that for too long outlaw clubs have used the law to their benefit. Instead, he wants to “make it just as nasty for him as he has made it for somebody on the streets.” (47)
Given such tactics, bikers were angry and more than a little paranoid. Even though it was the outlaw clubs’ reputation for violence which attracted most of the unwanted attention, all “long–haired biker trash” suffered the consequence. Law–abiding, working–class bikers, or at least the independents and those not affiliated with major clubs, suffered a disproportionate share of police harassment, anti–bike legislation and social opprobrium. They paid for their lifestyle choice, some with their lives. But society’s sympathy was with the “cager” who, after a fatal accident, claimed, “I didn’t even see the motorcycle.” Some bikers took the easy way out and rid themselves of motorcycles, but Easyriders readers did not. Consequently, the magazine’s most important community function was as a monthly celebration of the biker lifestyle. Each issue invoked the primary themes of independence and individuality and boasted the moral superiority of motorcyclists, pushing aside momentarily the dreary reality of most bikers’ lives.
Though most of the information could be gleaned unconsciously from the reporting and advertising, a clear declaration of Easyriders’ principles, a sort of biker manifesto, was published in 1977. Invoking images of the gunslinger and the American frontier, the article portrays bikers as the last of a dying breed, throwbacks to an era when men risked their lives every day, accepted the consequences of their actions and protected their personal liberties. Modern men, the editorial suggests, have ceded those liberties to a safe and suffocating government: “Most people are so chickenshit they’d rather have a Hitler or a Nixon call the shots than bear the burden of running their own lives.” (48)
Bikers, on the other hand, remain true to America’s libertarian ideals and should be applauded instead of harassed and jeered. The motorcycle is the ultimate expression of their individuality, not only through its design, but because of its ability to re–create the rider and re–awaken him to the freedom that is his birthright. It is clear to the editors that America needs bikers more than it needs the “pitiful clown” who “long ago had all the real man squeezed out of him. He’s signed his life away to work for some rich bastard or some government agency. And what he wants most is his precious security.” (49)
In “Heroes” the magazine’s effort to sanctify cycling recalls the military’s motorcycle corps. “Hold up your heads, bros,” the article cheers, “‘cause you’re the proud descendants of an elite band of biker bums and scooter trash.” The piece ends with the hopeful admonition, “Ride free and stay tough, brothers; they just might need us again.” (50) Another article, subtitled “Why Bikers are Bikers,” alludes to motorcycle outlaws as modern–day Vikings, but with new terrain and new challenges:
Our oceans are highways, the wine comes in different containers, and the girls, whatever their hair color, take care of the grub. Only one catch. We’re pillaging in a sea of rules, enforced by the swabs in black–and–whites. But fuck it, we still have a good time, break down once in a while (and who’s to say a buffed out Viking didn’t break an oar once in a while), but the roads are long. (51)
Whatever the mythic image used to redefine the bikers’ sense of self, there was reassurance not only that the lifestyle was valuable, but that it would survive.
The magazine’s monthly fiction selections reiterated themes of freedom and brotherhood, folding them into plots where bikers enjoyed sympathetic, sometimes heroic roles and generally came out winners in their confrontations with society and its various enforcement agents. The fiction also stressed the advantages of the biker lifestyle and reinforced the biker’s masculinity. J. Mark Watson has suggested that articles such as “Man is the Ruler of Woman!” and “How to Choose a Good Ol’ Lady” accentuate the bikers’ “masculinity as a dominant value.” (52) However, such articles more likely indicate a “real biker’s” inability to accept the constraints of marriage or family. Instead of a general disdain for women, these themes reinforce for bikers their allegiance to unrestricted freedom, their motorcycles and their brothers.
The need for motorcyclists to work together carried through from the efforts of ABATE and advertisements for the Hell’s Angels Defense Fund to fiction focused on vengeful bikers and carefree buddies enjoying a summer jaunt. In Easyriders’ first year it published two lengthy Louis Bosque stories which featured the adventures of Reno, Jere, Tiny and the rest of the Booze Fighters MC. In “Joint Venture” the club visits revenge on a “narc” who had defiled Reno’s motorcycle. (53) The second story, “Fringe Benefits of Owning a Chopper,” is a clearer delineation of the advantages that accrue to bikers. This time the bikers shuck and jive the morning away at a pool hall, then go for a ride to the beach where beautiful women swoon over manly men on powerful motorcycles. (54)
The story’s conclusion sees the bikers rousted by a pair of police officers. One, a rookie, wants nothing more than to prove his mettle by locking up the bikers. The more experienced officer, however, seems to accept the fact that bikers are often singled out: “Most descriptions given by complaining people are exaggerated, to make the culprits appear more menacing than they really are.” (55) The three avoid arrest by working together and providing each other an alibi. When bikers work independently, as happens in “Trip Cancelled,” the results are deadly. Gordo Boyle, a “very intelligent dude,” carefully cases the motorcycle shop he plans to rob. But he treats his biker accomplice as a tool and plans to leave him hanging once he has sold the stolen merchandise. Unfortunately, Gordo is too smart for his own good and dies during the commission of the crime. (56)
Other stories implied that bikers should deal with each other honestly and avoid injectable drugs. “Goodby, Wally” and “The Lyingest Cyclist I Ever Knew!” focus on liars and braggarts who are always to be avoided and never trusted. (57) Likewise Larry Cole’s story “The Snitch” suggests that even the bond between warring clubs is closer than the bikers’ ties to society and law enforcement. Preacher overhears plans to raid the Knights, a rival club. Though the Knights are skeptical they listen to his story, and together they make fools out of the police. (58) In “O. D. for a Brother” a biker kills his friend while high. (59) The story reflects the Hell’s Angels’ rules against heroin use and needles. Needle users, “hypes,” could not be trusted because their first allegiance would be to the drug rather than to the club. The poem “A Brotherhood of Brothers” reinforces the necessity of being strong for each other: “When we reach for our brother’s hand, His should be there in return, If we’re gonna survive free in this land.” (60)
Unlike the intelligent Gordo Boyle, characters created by J. J. Solari, who wrote regularly for the magazine for 20 years, were never troubled by being too smart. Rather, their stupidity was used to puncture mainstream society’s inflated sense of superiority. “Bike Telethon” is a fitting example, relating the story of a club that presents a telethon against death as a means of raising money. The television station and the news media think they are using the club, but in the end the bikers deceive everyone, including the mindless audience that pledges money for the cause. Viewers who watch the telethon’s unlikely blend of sex, nudity and profanity are revealed as no less decadent than the bikers. (61) In another Solari story, “The Secret Technique,” bikers embarrass a police officer who envies bikers their ability to attract women. (62)
If there was one consistent element to Easyriders’ early fiction it was that bikers were down on their luck. But being broke, out of work, or estranged from a wife or girlfriend was to be expected. The resourceful biker found ways to survive despite the down times. In “Two Easy Rip–Offs” a biker who is “too proud to borrow and to dumb to save” hustles a meal while pimply–faced convenience store clerks leer at his girlfriend. (63) Broke and desperate, the protagonist of “Gotta Job” passes a test of pride and stamina to earn his keep. (64) And finally, in “The Gift Horse,” a biker whose girlfriend has run off with a “140–pound puss engineer with a shag rug and a Bankamericard” picks up $200 by knowing when to play it smart and back down from a fight. (65)
The themes of education, coordination and celebration come together in the cautionary tale “Death of a Chopper.” Set in the future when government legislates every aspect of its citizens’ lives and where motorcycles are outlawed because they are too dangerous, Rebel takes one last ride and experiences a freedom which others have given up. The reason the government was able to act unilaterally to deny bikers their freedom was because motorcyclists had refused to act as one. “We should have backed those people like ABATE, long before we did,” Rebel muses to himself. “We should have been united then. Standing asshole deep in unity on the front steps of every fuckin’ state building that housed a bill that restricted us from our cause.” (66) His last act of defiance is to give the finger to the police just before he crashes into a roadblock.
Whether or not Easyriders was able to maintain its defiant attitude is open to debate. The magazine’s content, including fiction, ABATE news, Miraculous Mutha and centerfold–style photos, as well as news for and about biker brothers in prison and veterans, remained much the same through the 1980s. But sometime late in the 1970s the defiant initials FTW (Fuck the World) disappeared from its monthly table of contents to be replaced by an American flag. In 1986 “Buy American” was added below the flag.
More noticeable was that Easyriders became steadily glossier in its second decade and the advertisements for knives and brass knuckles, marijuana paraphernalia, Nazi helmets, swastikas and fake IDs first moved to the back pages then disappeared completely before the 1980s had passed. The motorcycles featured in the photo spreads also changed as the 1980s progressed. Bikes that had once represented a rider’s individuality and his desire to “get it on” became high–priced, professionally manufactured showroom pieces that never touched pavement.
Advertisers who had carried Easyriders through its infancy were replaced by the magazine’s own merchandising efforts and an increasing number of glossy Harley–Davidson ads inviting back those bikers who had turned away from the motor company during the AMF years. The fact the company had once turned its back on the magazine was forgotten. Its image in tatters, it had to be rescued from Japanese manufacturers. A handful of Harley riders, among them Willie G. Davidson, bought the company, and its preservation became a patriotic battle to which Easyriders enlisted its heart and soul.
In May of 1983 it asked readers to send “personal opinion messages,” at $4.45 apiece, to President Ronald Reagan, encouraging him to pass legislation that would protect the last American motorcycle manufacturer. The move was not a handout, but an attempt to level the playing field: “What we’re talking about here, bros, is survival. We’re talkin’ about whether Harley is going to be pulled onto Uncle Sam’s lifeboat, or forced to keep swimming a few lengths ahead of the Oriental sharks.” (67)
The first objective was to use the “breathing space” provided by the legislation to modernize production and improve quality. In an October 1983 article Easyriders provided H–D Chairman Vaughn Beals a forum to re–build customer confidence. Beals, speaking in “a low rumble that sounds like a 74 come to life,” details the company’s plans. (68) One move is to make Harley’s 100 percent American. “We can’t go raise hell about imported motorcycles with a clear conscience if we’re importing components,” Beals says. (69) A more important step, however, is to stop competing with Japanese models on speed and performance. “We do not want to win drag races with our products,” Beals notes. “Our findings show we attract a pretty mature motorcyclist. He’s been through the go–fast days and is really into motorcycling of the sort where he can get between Los Angeles and San Francisco and smell the daisies.” (70)
When Harley–Davidson became a publicly owned corporation in 1986 it was proof the company had successfully “turned the corner.” For a little over a year Easyriders printed a monthly summary of the company’s stock activity and detailed engineering improvements. Beals, the savior, became a regular feature of the magazine, but a 1986 interview in which he discussed debt–to–equity ratios, stock options and fixed–interest debt was obviously meant more for stockholders than for the “average biker.”
Discussion of motorcycles is non–existent, except for a question of price. Easyriders asked, “A number of your top–of–the–line models are inching into the five–figure bracket. Do you think crossing that line will hurt sales?” To which Beals offers only an evasion: “I don’t think so. I’d love to have them substantially below that. Personally, I still have trouble getting my mind to accept $20,000 cars. That used to be the price of a house when I was starting out. A fairly decent one.” (71) The issue is then dropped.
Dropped as well from the magazine’s pages was coverage of outlaw events. Those were taken up by one of Easyriders’ sister publications, Biker. Easyriders came to focus instead only on major motorcycle events — Daytona, Sturgis, Laconia, the Harley Rendezvous, etc. — and on its own Easyriders’ Rodeos. By the mid–1980s each month’s magazine contained six or seven feature bikes, at least one of them decorated with a naked woman; “Reader’s Rides”; two to three short stories; an “In the Wind” photo feature; and “Easynews,” which took up discussion of legislation affecting bikers. There was also a monthly “Tech Tip.” These short articles, long avoided by the magazine, concerned troubleshooting or specialty parts that would improve a bike’s look or performance. They also suggest that the magazine’s readership was changing, now including weekend riders as well as those hardcore bikers who took pride in performing their own hands–on tests.
Also new to the magazine in April 1987 was “Foxy Riders,” a monthly article on a woman biker. In December 1987, along with other features on Sturgis, the magazine gave two pages to “Sturgis Women: The times, they are a changin’.” Women on two wheels were no longer the exception, in fact the article notes “the proportion of women on rides at the Sturgis bash ranged from 8 to 10 percent.” (72) The women featured in the “Foxy Riders” pieces are praised for the same dedication to their bikes and to the freedom of the road that make male bikers special. But despite the growing number of women riders the articles were not without occasional sexist asides. In the defense of one “standup lady” Savage writes, “There’re still a lot of cats out there who think the hardbellies oughtta only be on the back or on their backs, but as for me, it’s never made a rat’s ass worth of difference what particular trip a chick might be into, just as long as she stays outta my face, can hold her own shit by both handles, and can deliver a respectable blowjob.” (73)
By the time Easyriders entered the 1990s, however, it was only peripherally interested in the world of outlaw bikers. Sylvester Stallone’s photo on the January 1989 cover was proof that motorcycling had, finally, become chic and so too had Easyriders. The magazine’s focus was less on entertaining and educating an audience of hardcore bikers and freespirits, and it was less willing to stand up to mainstream authority. Now it seemed content to offer its readers a mix of highly stylized bikes, softcore pornography, trendy lifestyle features and expensive merchandise. The magazine reached a new level of self–promotion when the December 1988 issue included a 32–page pullout advertising section featuring expensive leathers, T–shirts, jewelry and assorted biker knick–knacks — all officially licensed by Harley–Davidson and Easyriders.
Easyriders’ new colors were nowhere more obvious than in a condescending one–page notice in the February 1988 issue. Titled “Recognition — At Last,” the piece shows two advertisements, one for Harley–Davidson cigarettes and the other for Easyriders’ Motorcycle Rodeos, now sponsored by Budweiser. Noting that bikers were once unmentionable in polite society, they have managed nonetheless to persevere, like “cowboys, frontiersmen, and freedom fighters,” growing stronger in their adversity. (74) The fact that beer and cigarette companies want to be associated with the “biker lifestyle” should, the reader is to believe, be proud of their new level of acceptance, of “the strength and impact of the ever–growing, always strong biker community.” (75)
The strangest aspect of this piece, however, is its argument that Lorillard’s production of Harley–Davidson cigarettes is not really a blatant attempt to make money off the Harley–Davidson name. Instead, “the lifestyle is what Lorillard wants to associate with — not the factory, not the name. The name creates the association with the millions of riders throughout the world who’ve stood by the lifestyle through it all.” (76) In other words, it is proof bikers have finally made it.
Less changed in Easyriders during the 1980s and 1990s was its fiction. It still focused on the adventures of men facing hard times. The protagonists were more often prison inmates, ex–cons or Vietnam veterans rather than just bikers, but the love of Harley–Davidson and of being in the wind was central to the characters’ existence. So too was a new sense of biker morality, however. “Tonto,” in the November 1988 edition, apposes anti–drug messages with a sense of self–confidence and the desire to do good deeds. Tonto, a hitchhiker, was a “junkie, sweatin’ and twitchin’ real bad from withdrawal,” and when he tries to steal the unnamed hero’s motorcycle he is easily disarmed. (77) Tonto dies from snakebite, leaving the biker to assume one final responsibility, to help a blind child see again. He takes Tonto’s $300 and adds some cash of his own so the boy can get an operation: “I’ve never needed $200 so bad that I hadda keep it instead of givin’ it to someone who needed it more than me, especially a kid.” (78) The biker then disappears into the sunset.
If Easyriders’ readership had changed, attracting more middle–class bikers and professionals who enjoyed riding on weekends, what were they getting from these stories of down–on–their luck bikers? Community building and learning the biker’s code could no longer be the objective. More likely, as with men’s adventure fiction, readers were enjoying the exciting stories of men who handle themselves with efficiency, as well as the vicarious identification with men who are free to do the things readers could only hope to some day experience.
In “400 Years of Riding Free — Sorta,” L. Clayton Johnson exploits that sense of identification by telling readers they are ideologically related to “free–spirited” Vikings, medieval knights, pirates, frontiersmen and cowboys. They are fundamentally different from citizens, who “wake up in the mornin’ sayin,’ ‘Stop it.’ All day, every time they see somebody enjoyin’ life or enjoyin’ bein’ alive, they say, ‘Stop it.’” (79) Johnson writes that the biggest mistake true heroes make is to tame the world for others. In that act they not only make themselves anachronisms, they become threats to the safety they have created. “Big Citizen Government” then moves in to remove those freedoms which appear threatening. Johnson’s plea is for readers to remember history, because there is now nowhere else for bikers to go, they have to make a stand: “Join ABATE, or MMA, or CMA, or whatever rights organization is active in your piece of the world, before you don’t have a piece of the world left anymore. If you can’t find a rights group, find some bros who are willin’ to make a stand.” (80)
In the summer of 1996 Easyriders celebrated its 25th anniversary. To mark the occasion the magazine re–printed issue number one and packaged it with a fat anniversary edition that looked back on 25 years of accomplishment. The “Easynews” section noted, “The creation of Easyriders magazine in the early ‘70s coincided with the first real attack on motorcyclists’ rights.” (81) But even though the magazine’s impact on motorcycling and the outlaw lifestyle must be recognized and acknowledged, it was also clear the magazine had moved away from its original intentions.
In response, other magazines, with varying success, had taken up where Easyriders left off. Biker Lifestyle began publishing in 1980, presenting similar elements of sex and partying as presented in Easyriders, but with a focus on outlaw clubs and lesser known runs and rides. The magazine was bought by Easyriders’ publisher, Paisano Publications, in 1987, which changed the name to Biker and has since maintained the focus on its conception of the outlaw biker lifestyle rather than on the motorcycles themselves. In 1996 Biker merged with Easyriders’ long–time competitor, SuperCycle, which began publication in 1968.
Biker’s competition for lifestyle readers is Outlaw Biker, which began publication in 1985. Labeling itself “The most righteous biker mag in the world,” Outlaw Biker succeeds in presenting a grittier image of outlaws bikers and biker events than is displayed in Biker. Yet, like its competitor, its main interest is expensive and impractical motorcycles, revealing photos of female flesh and bikers doing what they enjoy most — drinking beer and partying.
Its fiction is also similar to Easyriders, but it maintains the more subversive relationship to law enforcement which disappeared from the more mainstream magazine. Outlaw Biker’s fiction, some of which was collected in Outlaw Legends and subtitled “Fiction Built on Fact,” dwells on self–reliance and physical ability. In “The Old Man,” a biker deals out his own brand of justice to the men who killed his son. (82) In “A Deadly Turn,” a biker looking to mind his own business is put upon by rednecks, who are themselves pushed into the fight by a jealous woman. “Bully boys can’t stand being put into check,” the hero notes just before he cleans house. (83)
Two stories in the collection allow bikers to show their moral superiority to police officers who hope to build their reputations by busting bikers. In “Good Shit,” an undercover officer buys what he believes are drugs from bikers. Officer Star, dazzled by “visions of headlines” and “the bust of the century,” is caught in the act of smoking horse shit and bilked of his money by the bikers who then blackmail him. “Are you ready for the world to find out you don’t know dope from doodoo?” they ask. (84) In a similarly lighthearted piece, the Budsmen MC convinces Police Chief Whozit they have killed a member of the gang and that his body is in the back of their club house. The body, however, is that of a dog. The officer calls the news media, because “with good press coverage, he might be able to parlay this bust into the mayor’s job, come election time.” (85) Learning the truth, he “dissolved into tears” while the bikers broke into laughter.
Later entrants into the field of outlaw biker publications, especially those produced by Paisano, had the advantage of building on the audience established by Easyriders. They did not have to justify or rationalize the outlaw biker’s existence and they did not have to build community. They could instead preach to the converted. One result of this change in the biker magazines’ focus was that the lifestyle of beer, women and brotherhood displaced the motorcycle as the object of desire and affection. With Harley–Davidson’s rebirth mainstream publications like Cycle World, as well as a host of glossy magazines aimed directly at the affluent new breed of Harley owners, were in a better position to deal with technical information and testing new models as they came off the assembly line. In the 1990s, Easyriders, Biker and Outlaw Biker simply chronicled (and marketed) the romance of the outlaw’s life rather than address the joy of riding for its own sake.
If Easyriders’ and Paisano Publications’ move toward a more mainstream audience left behind some “traditional” hardcore bikers, what magazines could pick up the slack? Hustler, a magazine Dennis Hall bills as “aggressively defiant in its description and reinforcement of working–class consciousness,” was similar to early Easyriders in its “Promethean bad taste” and suitably rebellious “alternative” attitude. (86)
Hustler is not aimed at motorcyclists, but one writer hit many of the right themes in an article on Daytona’s Bike Week, taking the opportunity to describe the superiority of bikers to Daytona’s other spring break denizens — college students. Author and “eye–witness” Jeff Moses quotes store owners and police officers who prefer the quiet self–assurance of bikers to the hormonally driven spring breakers. The deluge of “wanna–be frat boys,” driven to acts of stupidity by testosterone and alcohol, “spend more time beating their chests and head–butting each other than trying to meet girls,” Moses points out. (87) And a biker named Rodent notes, “That’s why this country is fucked–up — all the college kids are assholes. They grow up and become bigger assholes.” (88)
And given Easyriders’ interest in agriculture and hemp in the 1970s, its readers might have found a favorably anti–social attitude in High Times. The magazine aimed at pot aficionados not only features Sturgis in its July 1995 issue, it praises bikers as “the first outlaws” in its editorial. Associate Editor Chris Simunek, who authored both pieces, writes in the editorial that it was part fear and part respect that prodded him to write a story about “these intense people who had a reputation for indulgence and violence”: “This is a chance for High Times to repay a karmic debt to our elders who paved the way for the outlaws of today.” (89) Simunek’s supposed fear of bikers comes out in the Sturgis story as he introduces his visiting Czechoslovakian cousin, “Vlad the Inhaler,” to the “real America.”
The diversity of the South Dakota gathering is one reflection of America’s history, Simunek writes, but so too is fighting back and standing up for personal rights. Despite the fact that he is constantly worried about dying amid “a flurry of pool cues,” the article states that “bikers stand as the oldest countercultural subculture of such magnitude around. . . . These are not NYU grads who dyed their hair purple in a fit of twentysomething angst and later got jobs doing A&R for Arista. When these guys dropped out of society they dropped out for good.” (90)
Readers are told to forget the “violent drunken White Power maniac” movie image of gang members and believe instead that bikers are “the last bastion of that take–no–shit American spirit that got us kicked out of England in the first place.” (91) Clearly Simunek sees an affinity between his readers and bikers that goes beyond a casual interest in illegal drugs. Bikers, he feels, continued into the 1990s to live as rebels and iconoclasts who enjoyed life as they pleased.
Despite Easyriders’ defection to a more mainstream perspective, there was one motorcycle publication that did manage to maintain a more “traditional” biker attitude, into the 1990s. Iron Horse, billing itself as the last true advocate of the original rites of motorcycling and bikers, was introduced by Paisano in 1979. Originally conceived as Easyriders for non–Harley riders, its content, layout and advertising did parallel the parent publication while featuring other makes of motorcycles.
But in 1984 it was sold to a New York publisher, and since then the magazine has tried to distance itself from the “bloated lifestyle rags” and from the Harley–Davidson Motor Company. Responding to Easyriders’ anniversary issue in its “Biker Lit Crit” section, Iron Horse editor David Snow writes that the once righteous Easyriders has sold its soul: “The pictures tell the sordid story of the evolution of the political animal — of the cumulative effect of the insidious opiate. The life and exuberance evident in those early days has been replaced with the drudgery of a rote existence.” (92) Once a “vehicle of direct, uncensored expression, uncompromised and unafraid,” Snow argues that Easyriders has become the “voice of expedience” and compromise. (93) Those magazines whose existence depends on the continued success of Harley–Davidson, Snow writes in another article, “are all about compromise and deliver a gutted, neutered vision of a subculture noted for its passion and commitment.” (94)
Iron Horse distinguishes itself from other publications aimed at outlaw riders by focusing on “non–Japanese” motorcycles, not just Harleys, and the men and women who ride them. It has done features on many of the outlaw clubs, including prominent spreads on the Hell’s Angels and Pagans. But unlike other biker magazines that rarely show non–white faces, Iron Horse has done stories about Black, Chinese, Latino and Native American bikers, as well as reports on interracial clubs like the Ching–A–Lings.
The magazine likewise disdains biker parties and toy runs. In the “Runnin Free” section, which displays photos sent in by readers, it requests, “Motorcycling pix only. Save the puke–faced party shots for the other mags.” (95) Iron Horse does not involve itself in politics either. In another reference to Easyriders, columnist Flynch writes, “I think the best way to fight against anti–bike legislation is to prove that motorcycles are valid forms of transportation. Ride your bike to work at every opportunity. Let the general public know that motorcycles are not recreational vehicles.” (96)
Where Iron Horse most successfully distinguishes itself from other publications, however, is in its attitude toward the new breed of bikers and toward the Harley–Davidson Motor Company. Each issue’s content is evenly split between feature material on motorcycles and riders and opinion pieces which allow the writers and editors to vent their frustration at “yuppie posers” and biker wannabes who seem to be fouling the essence of motorcycling. Snow argues in a 1993 piece that motorcyclists who jumped on the Harley–Davidson bandwagon when it became safe lack the necessary substance to be real bikers. “It’s so fucking stupid to see a balding executive with a razor–cut tonsure wearing a Harley headband, predistressed leathers, and tastefully faded jeans. It literally is a put–on. A costume. A look that requires no commitment or dedication, only money.” (97)
Snow is quick to admit that a balding executive can be a biker, but he must fit the magazine’s definition of a biker, which is that he ride: “We don’t care if you’re a worthless bastard, as long as you own, ride, and are seriously into your motorcycle, we consider you a biker. Simple.” (98) As the “last, true voice in a yuppiefied motorcycle world,” (99) Iron Horse condemns the other magazines as mere slaves to fashion. Addressing upscale American Rider, staff writer Scott Wong writes that the main reason for such magazines’ existence is that they provide an image for bikers to model. “All of this slavish, mindless conformity, this desperate need for acceptance, is the exact opposite of what riding motorcycles is all about — freedom.” (100) Similarly, in responding to a letter to the editor that takes the magazine to task for not standing together with all bikers and “fighting Big Brother,” Iron Horse writes, “We believe that bikers aren’t afraid to stand alone and state what they believe, no matter how unpopular or unfashionable.” (101)
What is even more unique about Iron Horse is its hard–line stand against the Harley–Davidson Motor Company for its complicity in attempts to re–create motorcycling as a leisure activity and its constant denial of the outlaw influence that is partly responsible for the company’s success. Calling to the “children of the blacktop,” the magazine writes that “the soul of our culture is threatened by invaders from without and by insidious subversives from within.” (102)
The invaders are the new breed of bikers, but what galls Iron Horse’s editors is that Harley–Davidson promotes the new biker image to the exclusion of “real bikers.” When the company trademarked “hog” and “apehanger,” terms coined by bikers, took legal action against their use, and “made a bigger effort to create a fashion line than they have to create an honest–to–goodness affordable Big Twin,” (103) Iron Horse columnist Flynch responded by asking bikers to turn their Harley patches and decals upside down as a universal sign of distress:
The corporation is closing ranks and wants to silence any kind of dissent within their officially–licensed army.. . . But, as the saying goes, fear is never boring, and if I can, in some small way, send the message “bullshit” to the folks at the corp., then by gawd, I’m going to do it. This gesture might not be as dramatic as tossing your TV out your window and hollering “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!” like they did in Network, but you’d be surprised how good it makes you feel. (104)
An article on two motorcycles owned by members of The Hell’s Angel’s Salem, Massachusetts, chapter is Iron Horse’s clear definition of outlaw style and the motor company’s hypocrisy. The blueprint for a sleek, visually pleasing, all–American machine sprang from owners, Snow writes, and “was the centerpiece of a way of life followed by an incredibly diverse, dedicated and creative bunch of bikers who had separated themselves from the mainstream and created their own society.” (105) Outlaws were the sole source of the uncompromising image which has since been co–opted by Harley and become the object of desire for the new breed of biker. The company profits from the image while denying the debt it owes outlaws, prompting Snow to write, “Since they don’t live it, the mainstream can only value the outlaw influence for the amount of money it returns while conveniently damning the culture that originated the source of their prosperity.” (106)
Snow prefaces the last comment by noting that Iron Horse writers are not one–percenters. Yet there is an obvious kinship. The magazine avoids, consciously or unconsciously, the metaphors — cowboys, frontiersmen, pirates, etc. — long favored by Easyriders, relying instead on regular affirmations that anyone can be a biker as long as they own a bike and ride it regularly. The overriding metaphor in Iron Horse, if it can be called such, is that bikers are absorbed in the honest freedom that comes with motorcycle riding. Being a biker is not a lifestyle choice. It is not recreation. It is not a fashionable trend to be enjoyed on weekends and denied every other day of the week when the rider returns to work. In other words, buying a motorcycle and a leather jacket and cultivating beard stubble does not automatically confer biker status. A Hell’s Angels, as a bona fide biker, “placed his bike at the center of his existence and was dedicated to living life on two wheels.” (107) For that dedication, Iron Horse believes, he should be praised.
Forsaken by a country that preached equality and inclusiveness, harassed by police officers and flushed through the justice system, disowned by citizens and the American Motorcycle Association, bikers have long been an oppressed lot. The media–created image of bikers was predominantly negative, making it necessary they discover their own voice. As Anderson, Dardenne and Killenberg have noted, minority communities, if they are to maintain their identity, must establish media that will connect individual members and expose their shared fate. (108) Easyriders was the first magazine to attempt to reach out to outlaw bikers and create a sense of community through education, coordination and celebration. For good or ill, Easyriders and the biker magazines that followed in its path helped to make it possible for the outlaw lifestyle to survive long enough to be subsumed into the larger minority culture.
Easyriders’ creation of the biker anti–hero was, as well, a self–-conscious expansion of myths which had been suggested by other media. The magazine re–made the biker outlaws as the last representatives of American freedom, as the ideological heirs of freebooters and pioneers. They are wise in their ignorance and resolute in their outsider status. Their deviance is freely and proudly acknowledged, but it is not due to mere criminality, brazen sexuality or dislike of 9–to–5 employment. Instead their deviance is denoted by the singular desire to be free, to remain outside the mainstream. If there is one thing that bikers and motorcyclists suggest to citizens, it is that they are unencumbered by the demands of society. They can pick up and go at a moment’s notice. While others are comfortable in their safety, bikers are not. It is that position which inspires fear.
That Easyriders in time moved smoothly into the mainstream should not deny the fact that it was — and others still are — subversive in a manner that Herman and Chomsky may not have taken into account in their conservative propaganda model in which the media encourage “spirited debate, criticism, and dissent, as long as these remain faithfully within the system of presuppositions and principles that constitute an elite consensus.” (109) The magazines were not only free to criticize, it was expected of them. Easyriders chose to take its stand against laws whose only reason for existence was to protect those who did not want to be protected. Its formula for at once entertaining and addressing bikers’ concerns should reveal the value in its original position and the attractiveness of the message to a broad spectrum of readers. It can also be argued that Iron Horse’s stance against Harley–Davidson is, from the perspective of a dyed–in–the–wool biker, a truly subversive position which questions fundamental beliefs.
Yet the facts do not suggest that Herman and Chomsky are completely wrong. Biker magazines, like every other publication, necessarily operate within the constraints defined by their readers and by society. The readers’ definitions of what “ought to be” are quite different from what citizens believe. Outlaw clubs, involved as their members sometimes are in criminal activities and violence, are only the most obvious example. Yet if a publication hopes to exist in the open market, it must abide by certain rules and keep its criticism and debate within established boundaries.
Biker magazines did not preach anarchy or the overthrow of the government. They were in fact fairly level–headed, sometimes mainstream, in the advice they offered to readers who wanted to change the system and protect their way of life. In many ways this made Easyriders even more dangerous. Truly subversive magazines can be shut down; Easyriders and its companions in the biker magazine trade used the law to their benefit and celebrated their difference. They took positions that challenged “right–thinking” citizens and gave readers hope.
Conclusion
1. Don Pfeil, “Pfeilings,” Easyriders, June 1971, 12.
2. Rex Sheedy, “Hawg Rider,” Easyriders, February 1972, 8.
3. John Fiske, “Popularity and the Politics of Information,” in Journalism and Popular Culture, eds. Peter Dahlgren and Colin Sparks (London: Sage, 1992), 62.
4. Peter Larsen, “Textual Analysis of Fictional Media Content,” in A Handbook of Qualitative Methodologies for Mass Communication Research, eds. Klaus Bruhn Jensen and Nicholas W. Jankowski (London: Routledge, 1991), 129.
5. Rob Anderson, Robert Dardenne and George Killenberg, The Conversation of Journalism: Communication, Community and News (New York: Praeger, 1994), 99.
6. Ibid., 100.
7. Cook Neilson, “Bias,” Cycle, November 1974, 4.
8. Ben Hands, “It’s Your Environment, After All,” Cycle, July 1970, 52.
9. Frank Conner, “I’m Bound to Wander Way Over Yonder,” Cycle, August 1970, 39.
10. Jess Thomas, “Where: It’s Been, It’s At, It’s Going,” Cycle, October 1971, 47.
11. Art Guerrero, “The Angels vs. Fun City,” Cycle, October 1970, 73.
12. Cook Neilson, “Conversation With an Idiot,” Cycle, August 1972, 8.
13. Jake Littlejohn, “MMA — A Voice for Biker Freedom,” Custom Chopper, May 1976, 33.
14. Ibid., 70.
15. Larry Kumferman, “Clovis Show–and–Tell,” Custom Chopper, August 1973, 77.
16. Larry Kumferman, “The Biker Funeral,” Custom Chopper, August 1974, 37.
17. Ibid., 74.
18. Ibid., 75.
19. “Bikers Have Muscles, Let’s Start Using Them,” Easyriders, December 1975, 20; Ed Armstrong, “The Meek Don’t Win,” Easyriders, June 1976, 17–19.
20. That was the situation as Easyriders’ editors saw it at least. In response to a letter supporting the work of some police officers, the editors commented, “Stock bikers are seldom rousted — it’s the individualist who dares not to conform to the AMA–MIC fostered, and promoted, goody–twoshoes image, who is the target for harassment.” “Wordmonger’s Word–Hoard,” Easyriders, October 1972, 8.
21. “A statement: Bikers — A National Resource,” Easyriders Special 10th Anniversary Edition, June 1981; Renegade, “A Day in the Life,” Easyriders, February 1980.
22. Lou Kimzey, Easyriders Special 10th Anniversary Edition, June 1981, 1.
23. Lou Kimzey, “Yes, This is a Free Country (Damn it!),” Easyriders, August 1978, 12.
24. Kimzey, Easyriders Special 10th Anniversary Edition, 1.
25. Ibid., 1.
26. “Super–jaded, Self–styled, So–called, Half–assed Experts Agree that this Bike is All Right!” Easyriders, October 1971, 14.
27. “Built to Ride,” Easyriders, February 1972, 11.
28. James W. Tinney, “Fun and Games at the Conquistadors Annual Run,” Easyriders, March 1973, 43.
29. Richard LaPlante, Hog Fever (New York: Forge, 1995), 32.
30. “Wordmonger’s Word–Hoard,” Easyriders, October 1972, 6.
31. “Wordmonger’s Word–Hoard,” Easyriders, March 1973, 9.
32. “Biker’s Digest,” Easyriders, October 1972, 10.
33. “Biker’s Digest,” Easyriders, December 1972, 10.
34. Ibid., 10.
35. “Street Legal Chopper Circa 1973?” Easyriders, October 1971.
36. “Late Flash! Colorado Suspension Law Modified,” Easyriders, February 1972, 27.
37. “The Power!” Easyriders, October 1972, 49.
38. “A Letterwriter’s Guide to Congress,” Easyriders, August 1976.
39. Ed Armstrong, “The Do’s and Dont’s of Fighting Anti–Bike Legislation,” Easyriders, March 1973.
40. Armstrong, “The Meek Don’t Win,” 17.
41. Ibid., 18.
42. Leonard Strong, “Know Your Legal Rights When You’re Rousted,” Easyriders, December 1972, 54.
43. Bob Kates, “Grow it Yourself How–to–do–it,” Easyriders, December 1972; “Killer Weed,” Easyriders, May 1973.
44. B. Armitage, “The Ins and Outs of Getting Off,” Easyriders, September 1976, 15.
45. Grease, “Let the Seller Beware,” Easyriders, May 1976, 20–21; “The Kennedy–Rodino Anti–Gun Bill,” Easyriders July 1980, 30–31; John Watson, “FOIA Part II,” Easyriders, April 1979, 50–51+; Bob Collins, “Right to Write” Easyriders, December 1975, 46.
46. “Target Defense Tactics,” Easyriders, February 1980, 51.
47. Ibid., 90.
48. Kimzey, “A statement: Bikers — A National Resource,” 7.
49. Ibid., 155.
50. D. Swift, “Heroes,” Easyriders, January 1979, 28.
51. Renegade, “A Day in the Life,” 30.
52. J. Mark Watson, “Outlaw Motorcyclists: An Outgrowth of Lower Class Cultural Concerns,” Deviant Behavior 2 (1980): 37.
53. Louis Bosque, “Joint Venture,” Easyriders, October 1971.
54. Louis Bosque, “The Fringe Benefits of Owning a Chopper,” Easyriders, February 1972.
55. Ibid., 65.
56. Bill Lance, “Trip Cancelled,” Easyriders, December 1975
57. Donald P. McVey, “Goodby, Wally,” Easyriders, May 1973; Weird Willie, “The Lyingest Cyclist I Ever Knew,” Easyriders, June 1976.
58. Larry Cole, “The Snitch,” Easyriders, November 1975.
59. John Watson, “OD For a Brother,” Easyriders, September 1976.
60. Renegade, “A Brotherhood of Brothers,” Easyriders, July 1975, 21.
61. J. J. Solari, “Bike Telethon,” Easyriders, June 1976.
62. J. J. Solari, “The Secret Technique,” Easyriders, July 1979.
63. Judd Boyle, “Two Easy Rip–Offs,” Easyriders, December 1975, 13.
64. Comissar, “Gotta Job,” Easyriders, August 1980.
65. Sam Starkey, “The Gift Horse,” Easyriders, April 1979, 34.
66. Rabbit Cole, “Death of a Chopper,” Easyriders, July 1975, 19.
67. Trampo, “Will Reagan Save Harley,” Easyriders, May 1983, 107.
68. “Vaughn Beals,” Easyriders, October 1983, 27.
69. Ibid., 106.
70. Ibid., 106.
71. “Vaughn Beals: Still Learning How to Deal,” Easyriders, November 1986, 62.
72. Renegade, “Sturgis Women,” Easyriders, December 1987, 94.
73. Savage, “Foxy Rider,” Easyriders, February 1989, 46.
74. “Recognition–At Last,” Easyriders, February 1988, 28.
75. Ibid., 28.
76. Ibid., 28.
77. Ratface, “Tonto,” Easyriders, November 1988, 37.
78. Ibid., 41.
79. L. Clayton Johnson, “400 Years of Riding Free — Sorta,” Easyriders, August 1988, 37.
80. Ibid., 41.
81. “Looking Back, Seeing Ahead,” Easyriders, June 1996, 19.
82. J. P. White, “The Old Man,” Outlaw Legends #1.
83. Jody Via, “A Deadly Turn,” Outlaw Legends #1, 15.
84. Buzz Man, “Good Shit,” Outlaw Legends #1, 30–31.
85. J. P. White, “Harvey,” Outlaw Legends #1, 46.
86. Dennis R. Hall, “A Note on Erotic Imagination: Hustler as a Secondary Carrier of Working–Class Consciousness,” Journal of Popular Culture 15 (Spring 1982), 156.
87. Jeff Moses, “Daytona Beach: Whose Party is It?” Hustler, September 1990, 94.
88. Ibid., 94.
89. Chris Simunek, “The First Outlaws,” High Times, July 1995, 6.
90. Chris Simunek, “Home of the Brave,” High Times, July 1995, 52.
91. Ibid., 62.
92. David Snow, “Biker Lit Crit,” Iron Horse, September 1996, 73.
93. Ibid., 73.
94. David Snow, “Biker Lit Crit,” Iron Horse, March 1994, 67.
95. “Runnin Free,” Iron Horse, September 1996, 52.
96. Flynch, “Spinnin’ Wheels,” Iron Horse, June 1995, 21.
97. David Snow, “Models of Experience,” Iron Horse, July 1993, 86.
98. Flynch, “Eye of the Beholder,” Iron Horse, July 1994, 18.
99. Randy Lambert, “Back Talk,” Iron Horse, June 1994, 6.
100. Scott Wong, “Biker Lit Crit,” Iron Horse, April 1994, 63.
101. “Talk Back,” Iron Horse, March 1994, 9.
102. “Biker Lit Crit,” Iron Horse, March 1994, 66.
103. Flynch, “Spinnin’ Wheels,” Iron Horse, June 1994, 16.
104. Ibid., 17.
105. David Snow and Rob Sager, “Look Homeward Angel,” Iron Horse, December 1994, 23.
106. Ibid., 31.
107. Ibid., 23.
108. Anderson, Dardenne and Killenberg, 100.
109. Edward S. Herman and Noam Chomsky, Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media (New York: Pantheon, 1988), 302.