The Call of the Brotherhood

by Ken "Mysticwolf" Bingham

It begins as a trickle, on the horizon you see a single rider or maybe two.  Later there’s four or five.  The numbers continuing till you see groups of twenty or more.

Even at a distance you can tell the young bucks from the older, more experienced warriors.  The young ones are brash, careless, taking chances, they’ve something to prove.  Their high spirited mounts prance and canter beneath them, often rearing up.  Some are not even broken in yet.  Often, the risk takers realize too late, that one mistake is their last.

You can always tell the seasoned riders by the way they sit their mounts, with dignity, pride, in an orderly procession.  If they pass close you will see long gray braids, beards, with faces like the tanned leather they wear, weathered by the sun, wind, and elements.  The deep lines etched in their faces are a war map of countless encounters.  Piercing eyes of years of experience have viewed every vista, mountain, valley and plain the land has to offer.

They give a nod of respect or slight wave of the hand as they pass by, acknowledging a brother.  Perhaps they know what you’re feeling, the anxiousness inside.  Your guts twisting and churning to saddle up and fall into their file.

Your mount seems to sense your desires, you feel a slight quiver beneath you, anticipating, awaiting your mental command to, "Go!"  The two of you share a mystical bond, a connection that most would never understand.  But the riders before you know well, they too share that bond with their beasts of burden.

The chance to feel the wind in your face again, to ride free to the predetermined gathering where leather clad men and women will "whoop and holler".  The drink will flow, wild women will dance near naked for the crowd of raucous revelers.  The music and dancing will go on each night, old acquaintances will renew, stories will be told, there will be contests of strength, speed, best dressed, and for the women, least dressed.  Thoroughbreds and foreign curs will mingle in mutual respect.

But you’ve responsibilities, you’ve taken a wife, maybe have young uns, a place to keep up, chores.  But then maybe you've chosen your mate well.  She sees that look in your eyes and says, "Go on, we'll be fine for a few days." Or better yet, maybe you can leave the young uns with caring neighbors or relatives and she climb on behind you.  Could be she has her own mount to ride.

And so it is with the festival with the modern festival of bikers.  It's the chance to live the outlaw life for a few precious days.  The chance to thumb your nose at an oppressive society and government with it's increasing taxes and decreasing dollar value and say "I can still be a biker damb you!"

Yes the biker brotherhood is similar to the mountain men and free trappers mentality, because their spirits are one in the same.  If the mountain men of the fur trade era lived today, they'd be bikers by god!  It's the same spirit of rebellion, of freedom, of non-conformance to the predetermined molds of the governmental powers of then and now.

During the fur trade, the golden fleece, the McGuffin, the central theme was the beaver plew and the dollars it brought.  But the true prizes were the spin offs from that; the camaraderie, the excitement, the fun, and the memories.

Today the McGuffin is a machine.  With two wheels, a motor, lots of chrome.  Whether it be the king Hawg or an exotic import, Harley or rice burner, cruiser or crotch rocket.  They all being the sought after freedom of the open road, plus the camaraderie, excitement, fun and memories.

Some say it is the worship of a phallic symbol on wheels that gives the rider the self proclaimed right to pound his chest, strut and express his repressed primal macho ego.  Others say it is a spiritual cleansing like meditation, sailing on the ocean, communing with nature.

It is the same spirit that drove the Vikings, the same valiant gallantry of Knights of old.  It is the same fearless wanderlust of early explorers and mountain men.  It is all that and more.  It is the indomitable spirit of man through out the ages who's battle cry can be summed up in one word,...Freedom!

No, the lifestyle isn’t for everyone.  But everyone should experience it before they pass judgment.  If you should try it, and it gets in your blood,...welcome to the brotherhood!

Submitted by Ken "Mysticwolf" Bingham