Let's Ride_ Sonny Barger's Guide to Motorcycling Part 1

LET'S RIDE.

Sonny Barger's Guide to Motorcycling.

by Sonny Barger with Darwin Holmstrom.

Introduction.

Why Ride?

Back in the 1970s people used to say: "Ride hard, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse." People said a lot of stupid things in those days. I'm in my seventies today, and that saying seems idiotic to me now. I've got a better plan: ride smart, live long, and die of old age. I take good care of myself. I eat a healthy diet, I exercise every day, and I ride safe. I do this not because I'm afraid of dying. I do it because the longer I stay healthy, the longer I can ride motorcycles.

If there's one thing I want you to know about me, it's that I love to ride. A lot of people know a lot about me, mostly because I've written one book about my life and another about my philosophy. Other people think think they know me because so much has been written about me over the past half century. Some of it is true, but most is bulls.h.i.+t. And none of it is relevant here; the only thing that matters is that I love motorcycles. You do, too, or you wouldn't be reading this book. they know me because so much has been written about me over the past half century. Some of it is true, but most is bulls.h.i.+t. And none of it is relevant here; the only thing that matters is that I love motorcycles. You do, too, or you wouldn't be reading this book.

Most motorcycle owners really aren't serious riders. They ride maybe once or twice on a weekend and only when the sun is out. They don't get up in the morning and ride to work in the cold or rain. More often than not they get in their cars instead of on their bikes.

That's not me. When it comes to a bike or a car, there is no choice. Unless I'm getting something that's too big to haul on my bike, like feed for my horses, I take the bike every time. Many times in my life I haven't even owned a car, but I always had a bike. There have been many times when I couldn't afford both a car and a motorcycle, so I always chose a bike over a car. My family and I have even had to shop for groceries on a motorcycle, but that's the way I prefer it.

Becoming a serious rider is no easy thing to do. It takes dedication and hard work, but there's not a lot you can do about it if riding motorcycles is in your blood as it is in mine. You just have to suck it up and do the work.

I've been fascinated with motorcycles as early as I can remember. As a child, I loved watching bikes roar by our house. We lived on Seventeenth Street in East Oakland, which was still a small town back in the 1940s, and our house was near a stop sign that everyone used to run. Motorcycle cops used to sit in a vacant lot by my home and wait for unsuspecting people to run the stop sign. I'd stand for hours watching the cops take off after traffic violators. The sound of their motors made me feel good.

When I was finally old enough to ride, I got a little Cushman scooter. I never got sick of riding it around our neighborhood. I loved the sound, the feel of the wind against my body. After I saw The Wild One, The Wild One, I knew I wanted a real motorcycle. When I was discharged from the army in 1956, the Bohemian thing was big in the Bay Area. I had to decide whether I was going to be a beatnik or a motorcyclist. I picked motorcycles. I'm glad I did because motorcycles are still around while the beatniks are long gone. I knew I wanted a real motorcycle. When I was discharged from the army in 1956, the Bohemian thing was big in the Bay Area. I had to decide whether I was going to be a beatnik or a motorcyclist. I picked motorcycles. I'm glad I did because motorcycles are still around while the beatniks are long gone.

I bought a 1937 Indian Scout as soon as I returned home from the army. At that time, I was too young to legally own a motorcycle in the state of California, so I had to buy it in my older sister's name. Despite my age, back in the 1950s no one cared if I rode it; if it ran, you could ride it, whether you had a license or not.

The Scout ran, but it wasn't in excellent shape. It was a 45-cubic-inch (750-cc) side-valve V-twin that put out about 25 horsepower on a good day. If you really cranked on it, it might have hit 75 miles per hour when it was in its prime, but by the time I bought it, its best days were long past and it wasn't reliable enough to take out on the highway. During the short time I owned it, I never left the city of Oakland.

Within a few months I had my first Harley, a 1936 Knucklehead that cost me $125, tax included. This was a much better machine, a 61-cubic-inch bike that was well suited for longer trips. I rebuilt it and put in cylinder barrels and a flywheel from a 74-cubic-inch Knucklehead. Later I stroked it by putting in a flywheel from an 80-cubic-inch Flathead. I rode that bike all over California. When the stroked Knuckle engine blew up, I built a 1958 Panhead motor up to 80 inches and rode that until I traded it in for a brand-new 1961 XLCH Sportster. I got $500 for my Knuckle-Pan and still owed $400 on the new Sportster, which seemed like an impossible amount of money back then. But it was worth it. Sportsters were the hottest bikes you could buy at the time. They ran circles around the Big Twins. I rode XLs for seven years.

I've never been without a bike since that Indian Scout. That was more than fifty years ago, and I enjoy riding motorcycles today as much as I did when I was a kid. It's still the only way I travel.

If you're anything like I was and you want to ride a motorcycle no matter what, it's time to quit thinking and start doing. Jump in, and swim. I'll explain in the following chapters what you need to do to make that happen, but throughout the book I'm going to stress the importance of getting proper training. Don't let friends or family members teach you to ride: do it right and take a riding cla.s.s. We'll talk about the types of cla.s.ses that are available in the upcoming chapters, but for now all you need to know is that completing a motorcycle riding cla.s.s will be the safest way to practice the skills we cover in Let's Ride Let's Ride.

RIDING A MOTORCYCLE IS EASIER SAID than done. Much of the rest of this book will tell you what to do once you decide to become a motorcycle rider, but the challenges will start before you ever fire up your engine for the first time. You're going to have to deal with the concerns of your loved ones. As soon as you tell people you're interested in riding motorcycles, you'll start to hear an endless stream of warnings, mostly some variation of "Motorcycles are dangerous!" This is true-motorcycles are dangerous, but hey, life itself is dangerous. Everything you ever do will be a risk to some degree. Even doing nothing is dangerous because you'll get soft and fat and then die of heart disease. Death, after all, is the only sure bet in life. than done. Much of the rest of this book will tell you what to do once you decide to become a motorcycle rider, but the challenges will start before you ever fire up your engine for the first time. You're going to have to deal with the concerns of your loved ones. As soon as you tell people you're interested in riding motorcycles, you'll start to hear an endless stream of warnings, mostly some variation of "Motorcycles are dangerous!" This is true-motorcycles are dangerous, but hey, life itself is dangerous. Everything you ever do will be a risk to some degree. Even doing nothing is dangerous because you'll get soft and fat and then die of heart disease. Death, after all, is the only sure bet in life.

No matter what you do, someone somewhere will tell you it's dangerous. If you listened to every one of them, you would never do anything. You may crash your motorcycle and get hurt or killed, but you may fall off a curb and get run over by a bus, too, or tonight you could choke on a piece of fried chicken. Statistically, your bathtub might be just as dangerous as your motorcycle; thousands of people die from falling in their tubs every year, but no one tells you not to take a bath.

My sister and my dad both tried to talk me out of riding. My dad rode motorcycles with his friends, but when a good friend of his got hurt, Dad quit riding. He even stopped driving cars after that-he took a bus everywhere. He never stopped worrying about me, but he supported my decision to ride.

Only you can decide if the freedom and excitement a motorcycle can provide is worth the level of risk. If you're like me and motorcycling is in your blood, there's only one answer: "Yes."

I've done a lot of things that are more dangerous than riding a motorcycle. Smoking cigarettes came closer to killing me than riding any motorcycle has ever done. Abusing drugs gave me a heart attack when I was in my early forties. But riding motorcycles has kept me active and feeling young and alive over the years, so for me riding a motorcycle is more than worth the risks involved.

Once you've weighed the pros and cons of riding a motorcycle and decided the rewards are worth the risks, you need to do everything in your power to minimize those risks. Motorcycle riding is is dangerous, but you can do a lot of things to make it safer. Much of the rest of this book discusses ways to avoid unnecessary risks and manage the risks you can't avoid. But first, let's discuss the rewards of motorcycling and dispel some of the myths that have grown up around bikers. dangerous, but you can do a lot of things to make it safer. Much of the rest of this book discusses ways to avoid unnecessary risks and manage the risks you can't avoid. But first, let's discuss the rewards of motorcycling and dispel some of the myths that have grown up around bikers.

WHEN PEOPLE HEAR THAT YOU WANT to ride a motorcycle, they'll use every argument they can think of to try to talk you out of it, but they won't be able to argue with the fact that motorcycles are economical to own and operate. For starters, motorcycles are cheaper to buy than cars; the most expensive motorcycles cost about as much as the average family sedan, and the least expensive new motorcycles are cheaper than a used subcompact car. If you shop around, you can pick up a brand-new high-end motorcycle like a Victory Vegas for around $15,000, which is less than you'd pay for a new compact like a Honda Civic. You can get a decent, reliable motorcycle for under $5,000, and in some cases well under that amount. The only cars you can get for that price these days are about ready for the junkyard. to ride a motorcycle, they'll use every argument they can think of to try to talk you out of it, but they won't be able to argue with the fact that motorcycles are economical to own and operate. For starters, motorcycles are cheaper to buy than cars; the most expensive motorcycles cost about as much as the average family sedan, and the least expensive new motorcycles are cheaper than a used subcompact car. If you shop around, you can pick up a brand-new high-end motorcycle like a Victory Vegas for around $15,000, which is less than you'd pay for a new compact like a Honda Civic. You can get a decent, reliable motorcycle for under $5,000, and in some cases well under that amount. The only cars you can get for that price these days are about ready for the junkyard.

Motorcycles are fuel efficient as well. The largest, most luxurious motorcycle uses less gas than the lightest car. The most economical gas-powered cars average maybe 30 miles per gallon, and hybrid-powered cars don't get much more than 35 miles per gallon. Meanwhile the largest, most luxurious touring bikes usually get about 3540 miles per gallon, and smaller bikes can easily get 5060 miles per gallon. Gas prices traditionally fluctuate up and down, but with all the talk about "peak oil," I'll bet that, over the long run, fuel prices are going to trend a lot higher than they are today. The more they go up, the more money you'll save riding a motorcycle.

A lot of states also allow motorcycles to use their high-occupancy vehicle lanes, meaning you can get around on congested urban freeways more efficiently on a motorcycle than in a car. Another way to save money on a bike is in parking costs. Parking lots often charge less for motorcycles than they do for cars, which makes sense since motorcycles take up less s.p.a.ce. If you're resourceful enough, you can even find places that let motorcycles park for free. For example, if you find a restaurant or other place of business owned by a motorcycle rider, he or she might let you park your bike in the alley or loading area behind the building. This brings up another benefit of motorcycling: a brotherhood exists among motorcycle riders.

AS SOON AS YOU START RIDING a motorcycle, you'll find you are part of a larger community of motorcycle riders. The first thing you'll notice is that other motorcycle riders wave at you, even if you don't know them from Adam. Here's a word of advice-wave back. It doesn't matter if the other rider is some kid on a sport bike, some adventure-tourer traveling the globe on a big dual-purpose bike (we'll discuss the types of bikes and riders you'll meet later), or a member of a one-percenter club; that rider waving at you is acknowledging that the two of you are in this together. The least you could do is let the other rider know you get the message. a motorcycle, you'll find you are part of a larger community of motorcycle riders. The first thing you'll notice is that other motorcycle riders wave at you, even if you don't know them from Adam. Here's a word of advice-wave back. It doesn't matter if the other rider is some kid on a sport bike, some adventure-tourer traveling the globe on a big dual-purpose bike (we'll discuss the types of bikes and riders you'll meet later), or a member of a one-percenter club; that rider waving at you is acknowledging that the two of you are in this together. The least you could do is let the other rider know you get the message.

Waving goes back to the early days of riding. When I started riding, bikes were so unreliable that traveling the sixty miles from Oakland to San Jose was considered a big trip. You might only see one other motorcycle the whole way, so when you did, you waved at him. He might even stop and have a cup of coffee with you.

At least in part this brotherhood came about as the result of the antimotorcycle hysteria that infected the United States in the years after World War II. With communism spreading around the world and the Soviet Union getting an atomic bomb, you can't blame people for being scared of just about anything out of the ordinary, and back in those days riding a motorcycle was definitely unusual.

I first encountered this prejudice against motorcycles in 1958 while hanging out at a Doggie Diner on Twenty-third Avenue. I'd just been fired from my job and was sitting out in front of the diner when a straitlaced cop pulled up and told me that he'd been down to visit my boss the day before. I realized that he'd been the person who'd gotten me fired. From that day forward, it's gotten progressively worse. Just a couple of days ago I got a speeding ticket; the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent who pulled me over treated me like I was a d.a.m.ned dog. I've paid a lot of money in state and federal taxes, yet I get treated like that when I'm riding my motorcycle down a public highway.

BACK WHEN I STARTED RIDING, WHEN people spoke about a motorcycle, they were usually talking about either a Harley or an Indian. In some parts of California they might have been talking about a Triumph or some other Brit bike, but for most people in the United States the word people spoke about a motorcycle, they were usually talking about either a Harley or an Indian. In some parts of California they might have been talking about a Triumph or some other Brit bike, but for most people in the United States the word motorcycle motorcycle meant either a Harley or an Indian. With those bikes, you had to know how to fix them to ride them. Not just anyone with a fat wallet could walk into a motorcycle dealers.h.i.+p and ride off on a new bike because in those days you spent as much time working on your bike as you did riding it. Every time you rode a bike, there was a fair chance something would go wrong before you got back home. meant either a Harley or an Indian. With those bikes, you had to know how to fix them to ride them. Not just anyone with a fat wallet could walk into a motorcycle dealers.h.i.+p and ride off on a new bike because in those days you spent as much time working on your bike as you did riding it. Every time you rode a bike, there was a fair chance something would go wrong before you got back home.

These days bikes are a lot more reliable and everyone has a cell phone; if something does go wrong, you can just call for help. But back then if your bike broke down, you had two choices: fix it or walk. To be a motorcycle rider in the early days of motorcycling meant that you had to be a decent motorcycle mechanic, too.

In 1958 I rode with a guy named Ernie Brown, who was the vice president of the club I was in at the time. We'd ridden down to Los Angeles and my transmission blew up. We were sitting on the side of the road when another motorcyclist named Vic Bettencourt stopped to help. It turned out that he was the president of a chapter of the same club.

I didn't even know our club had a chapter down there. We'd founded our club because we'd found a cool patch from a defunct club and we liked the patch. We didn't even know there were other chapters of the club. It was the first time we realized we were part of something bigger than just the club my friends and I had started. Vic took us to their clubhouse and put a new transmission in my bike. He also taught me a lot about what brotherhood was all about.

The tendency for bikes to break down all the time kept motorcycles off-limits for people who were trained to be things like schoolteachers and bank tellers instead of grease monkeys. It made riding a motorcycle more or less a blue-collar activity, which set up a cla.s.s divide between riders and nonriders that wouldn't be torn down for generations.

ANOTHER REASON THAT MAINSTREAM A AMERICAN citizens began to fear motorcycles was because of the press. As long as there have been newspapers, there've been newspaper publishers who've realized that fear sells newspapers. In the strange days following the Second World War, journalists had more fear to exploit than ever before. It didn't take much to scare the p.i.s.s out of the average American in the late 1940s; anything that represented the unknown was frightening, and people who rode motorcycles represented an unknown quant.i.ty. The sight of a bunch of greasy-nailed motorcyclists roaring into a gas station was enough to make Mr. Average American wet his pants. citizens began to fear motorcycles was because of the press. As long as there have been newspapers, there've been newspaper publishers who've realized that fear sells newspapers. In the strange days following the Second World War, journalists had more fear to exploit than ever before. It didn't take much to scare the p.i.s.s out of the average American in the late 1940s; anything that represented the unknown was frightening, and people who rode motorcycles represented an unknown quant.i.ty. The sight of a bunch of greasy-nailed motorcyclists roaring into a gas station was enough to make Mr. Average American wet his pants.

Being quick to pick up on anything that exploited the average American's fear of the unknown, the magazines and newspapers of the day (remember, this was back when hardly anyone had television) published stories on anything and everything that frightened people, whether it was Communist infiltrators, unidentified flying objects, or a bunch of guys out having a good time on their motorcycles. If something wasn't scary enough to sell newspapers and magazines, the newspapers and magazines would just stretch the truth until it was more sensational.

For the most part, I always get along with just about everyone I meet. People fear the unknown, but once they get to know you, they treat you the way you treat them. If you treat people with respect, they'll usually treat you with respect in return. If someone attacks me, I'm going to defend myself, but I don't go around doing things to scare people. But the problem comes when people read a lot of the crazy things that are written about me and think they should be afraid. And if it will sell papers and magazines, the press will print whatever crazy story they think people might believe.

That's exactly what they did with a motorcycle rally that got a little boisterous in the small town of Hollister, California, over the Fourth of July holiday in 1947. About four thousand motorcycle riders came to town that weekend, mostly to attend races sponsored by the AMA (American Motorcyclist a.s.sociation). That was a lot more people than the town expected and things got a little hectic.

Eyewitness reports tell of such things as motorcyclists throwing water balloons off balconies, popping wheelies on Main Street, and generally riding around whooping and hollering. There were a few drunken fights, and more than a little street racing, but other than a couple tools being stolen from a tire repair shop, there was no real crime to speak of. One guy was arrested for p.i.s.sing in the radiator of a car that was overheating; when his buddy Wino w.i.l.l.y of the Booze Fighters Motorcycle Club went to bail him out of jail, he, too, was arrested for being drunk.

A total of twenty-nine people were arrested for drunkenness, indecent exposure, and traffic violations, but overall the motorcyclists were just a little rowdier than the cowboys were when the rodeo came to town. Finally one guy rode his motorcycle right into a bar, prompting the owner to call the California Highway Patrol, who cleared everyone out and put a stop to the party.

The Hollister event would have gone down in history as just another good Fourth of July party in a small town had not a photographer put a pile of empty beer bottles around a motorcycle and had a guy pose on the bike. He sold the resulting photo to Life Life magazine, which ran it with a short story about how hordes of motorcyclists were descending on the country h.e.l.l-bent on destroying everything in their paths. Within weeks motorcycle riders replaced Communists as public enemy number one, which is more than a little ironic considering that most motorcyclists at the time were honorable patriots who had risked their lives serving their country in World War II. They just wanted to have a little fun, and they sure as h.e.l.l had earned that right. magazine, which ran it with a short story about how hordes of motorcyclists were descending on the country h.e.l.l-bent on destroying everything in their paths. Within weeks motorcycle riders replaced Communists as public enemy number one, which is more than a little ironic considering that most motorcyclists at the time were honorable patriots who had risked their lives serving their country in World War II. They just wanted to have a little fun, and they sure as h.e.l.l had earned that right.

The Life Life magazine story inspired a guy named Frank Rooney to write a short story for magazine story inspired a guy named Frank Rooney to write a short story for Harper's Magazine Harper's Magazine called "The Cyclists' Raid." This piece of fiction became the basis for the 1953 film called "The Cyclists' Raid." This piece of fiction became the basis for the 1953 film The Wild One The Wild One. Mostly the film shows a bunch of people having a good time on motorcycles, but back then Johnny, played by Marlon Brando, seemed like the Antichrist to the average American, and the film helped to spread mistrust between motorcycle riders and nonmotorcycle riders.

The film might have scared "average Americans" witless, but when my friends and I saw The Wild One The Wild One as teenagers, we wanted to be just like Chino, the character played by Lee Marvin. Johnny seemed like he spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself. I don't care what anyone says; Marlon Brando's character was a bully, and I don't like bullies. Whenever something happened, Marlon Brando said, "Me and my boys will take care of it." It was never: "I'll take care of it." as teenagers, we wanted to be just like Chino, the character played by Lee Marvin. Johnny seemed like he spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself. I don't care what anyone says; Marlon Brando's character was a bully, and I don't like bullies. Whenever something happened, Marlon Brando said, "Me and my boys will take care of it." It was never: "I'll take care of it."

Chino had b.a.l.l.s, and he knew how to have fun. Lee Marvin's character was like a real person. He wasn't out looking to push anyone around; he just wanted to ride his motorcycle and have a good time. He wanted everyone to be together as a group.

But as I say, most Americans didn't see the film the way we did. Where we saw motorcyclists having a good time, they saw criminals who needed to be locked up. By the time I started riding motorcycles, motorcycle riding itself was practically a crime; not only did we have to be on constant vigil against careless car drivers, wild animals and dogs, and other hazards of the road, but we also had to watch out for the cops who would hara.s.s us at every opportunity just because of the mode of transportation we preferred. With this kind of pressure on us at all times, it made sense that we would seek the brotherhood found in motorcycle clubs.

BACK AROUND THE TURN OF THE twentieth century, people formed clubs around just about anything. There were clubs devoted to collecting b.u.t.terflies, clubs devoted to examining dinosaur fossils, and clubs devoted to studying electricity. It only made sense that people would start forming motorcycle clubs almost as soon as Gottlieb Daimler first bolted a gasoline engine to his two-wheeled wooden Einspur to create the original motorcycle in 1885. twentieth century, people formed clubs around just about anything. There were clubs devoted to collecting b.u.t.terflies, clubs devoted to examining dinosaur fossils, and clubs devoted to studying electricity. It only made sense that people would start forming motorcycle clubs almost as soon as Gottlieb Daimler first bolted a gasoline engine to his two-wheeled wooden Einspur to create the original motorcycle in 1885.

Motorcycle clubs remained popular throughout the first half of the twentieth century, but after World War II they became even more popular. Most able-bodied American men had served in the military during the war, and many of them missed the brotherhood they had shared with their fellow soldiers. Motorcycle clubs offered these veterans a way to re-create that camaraderie. By 1947, when the Hollister bash took place, there were dozens of clubs on the West Coast alone.

Just about everyone I know belongs to some sort of biking club. Riding alone is fun, but being part of a group provides advantages. With a group, you'll have someone to watch your back if something happens or help you if you go down. Plus it's nice to have someone to share the ride with. There are all sorts of clubs, and I encourage every rider to consider joining one for the brotherhood and camaraderie.

In 1957 six other guys and I started a chapter of the club I'm still in. Within six months I became president of our chapter, and I remained president for about thirty years. I'm still a member, but I haven't held an office in the club for more than twenty years. The type of club I'm in-a one-percenter club-probably isn't for everyone. No club is for everybody, but no matter what kind of riding you're interested in, you can find a motorcycle club that focuses on it.

I'VE SAVED MY PERSONAL FAVORITE PART of motorcycling for last: freedom. This subject is so important to me that I've written an entire book about it. I appreciate all the other benefits a motorcycle provides, especially the brotherhood of riders that forms around motorcycles, but for me in the end it all boils down to the freedom I find on a bike. of motorcycling for last: freedom. This subject is so important to me that I've written an entire book about it. I appreciate all the other benefits a motorcycle provides, especially the brotherhood of riders that forms around motorcycles, but for me in the end it all boils down to the freedom I find on a bike.

When I pop the gears.h.i.+ft lever on my bike into first and ride out onto the open road, I leave everything else behind. Before I get on my bike I might be worried about some deadline I have to meet, or some person I have to call, or some other obligation I have to fulfill, but once I ride out of my driveway, I leave all that other stuff behind. There's no room for it out on the road. I've got enough to worry about just trying to avoid all the other drivers yapping on their cell phones-there's no room for the petty worries that would be on my mind if I wasn't out on my bike.

At least I try to shed all those unimportant thoughts when I ride. Sometimes they creep in, but I do my best to avoid them because they distract me from the business at hand, which is not getting hurt or killed on my bike. Normally I do a pretty good job at clearing the unimportant c.r.a.p from my mind and focusing on riding my bike. Because riding is such an intense activity, it demands your full attention. On a bike you're bombarded with all kinds of stuff coming at you, and I don't just mean other traffic. Riding reveals so many raw sights, sounds, and smells that they can overwhelm you. It can be a little intimidating at first, but I promise that riding will ultimately produce an amplified sense of being alive.

Once you let the experience of riding consume you and drive all the useless thoughts from your head, that's when you really start to enjoy the freedom of riding a bike. It doesn't matter if you're riding five miles or five hundred miles; time has little meaning when your head is in the act of riding and it's just you, your bike, and the road-at least until your a.s.s starts to get sore and the pain interrupts your motorcycle meditation. Later in this book we'll talk about ways to prevent even that from being a problem.

RIDING REALLY IS A FORM OF meditation. Most religions have ways to help focus your thoughts-meditation, prayer, ceremonies-and in this way riding a motorcycle is a lot like a religion. I'm not going to talk about organized religions here because what people believe or don't believe is their own business. I don't talk to people about what I do or don't believe, and I appreciate when they don't talk to me about their beliefs. But when it comes to motorcycles, I figure that if you're reading this book you most likely have an interest in what I believe, at least as far as motorcycles are concerned. meditation. Most religions have ways to help focus your thoughts-meditation, prayer, ceremonies-and in this way riding a motorcycle is a lot like a religion. I'm not going to talk about organized religions here because what people believe or don't believe is their own business. I don't talk to people about what I do or don't believe, and I appreciate when they don't talk to me about their beliefs. But when it comes to motorcycles, I figure that if you're reading this book you most likely have an interest in what I believe, at least as far as motorcycles are concerned.

And I believe that riding motorcycles is as good a religion as any, and probably better than most. For me, riding a motorcycle is like being part of a ceremony; it's a sort of transcendent experience some would call holy. I think a lot of my club brothers feel the same way. That's why we call going to our club meetings "going to church."

The rest of this book will cover the things you need to do to learn to ride a motorcycle, tell you how to buy the right motorcycle, teach you how to be comfortable and safe once you get it, and give you advice on what to do once you start riding. I hope that by getting the proper training, choosing a good motorcycle that suits your needs, and practicing good safety habits once you start riding, you'll stay strong and healthy and ride for many trouble-free years. Do that and you'll experience the pleasure that motorcycling has given me for more than half a century. Whether or not you join a club, if you love to ride a motorcycle, you are part of my church.

by Sonny Barger Productions

Chapter One.

Dissecting the Beast The Anatomy of a Motorcycle Motorcycles seem like they should be simple because there's really not much to them. You've got an engine, two wheels, tires, something to sit on, some controls to manage the machine, a tank for gasoline, and a frame to hold the whole works together.

In the early days of riding, the preceding description pretty much accounted for an entire motorcycle. The controls consisted of a cable going to a rudimentary carburetor, which was about as complex as a Turkish water pipe, and hopefully, a crude brake. The transmission was made up of a pulley that tightened a flat, smooth leather belt that ran from an output sprocket on the crankshaft of the engine to another pulley on the rear wheel. If the contraption had lights, they were likely powered by kerosene and turned on with matches or maybe a very rudimentary battery on more advanced models. A modern motorcycle has more computer chips than an early motorcycle had total moving parts.

Motorcycles weren't that much more complicated when I started riding. There had been a few improvements, but not many. Instead of total-loss electrical systems with enormous lead-acid batteries, the first motorcycles I rode had extremely basic six-volt electrical systems. These didn't provide enough juice to reliably power an electric starter, so we still had to kick-start our motorcycles. By then motorcycles had recirculating oiling systems so the rider no longer had to pump oil into the engine by hand, and chains took care of final drive duties instead of the smooth leather belts that spun the wheels on the earliest motorcycles, but overall, the bikes I started riding were closer to the motorized bicycles from the end of the nineteenth century than they were to the reliable, practical motorcycles we have today.

PUTTING THE MOTOR IN THE CYCLE.

IN THIS BOOK I' I'M not going to teach you how to overhaul your motorcycle. Most modern motorcycles are too complicated for you to do much more than change the oil yourself, but you will need to become familiar with the essential parts of a motorcycle and how everything works together. If you already know these things, you might want to skip ahead to the next section, though it can never hurt to brush up. not going to teach you how to overhaul your motorcycle. Most modern motorcycles are too complicated for you to do much more than change the oil yourself, but you will need to become familiar with the essential parts of a motorcycle and how everything works together. If you already know these things, you might want to skip ahead to the next section, though it can never hurt to brush up.

The engine, of course, is what puts the motor motor in in motor motorcycle. Engines come in two basic types: four-stroke and two-stroke. Two-stroke engines haven't been used much in the United States over the past several decades because of emissions standards. They're called "two-strokes" because every two strokes of the piston comprise one complete cycle. The piston goes down and draws in the fuel charge; it goes back up and fires the fuel charge. Two-strokes are simple engines that don't have internal oil-lubrication systems. Some of the oil lubricates the inside of the engine, and the rest is burned with the exhaust, which is why they pollute so much. The last full-sized street-legal two-stroke motorcycle sold in the U.S. market was Yamaha's RZ350 from the mid-1980s.

For several decades two-stroke engines dominated Grand Prix motorcycle racing because the engines are light and generate twice as many power pulses as a four-stroke engine, but they've been phased out over the past decade. In 2002 the top cla.s.s switched from 500-cc two-strokes to 990-cc four-strokes, and in 2009 the 250-cc two-stroke cla.s.s was retired, to be replaced by a 600-cc four-stroke cla.s.s for the 2010 season. That leaves just the 125-cc cla.s.s as the last of the two-stroke road racers.

But because two-stroke street bikes are too old and too small to be used as practical transportation, we won't be discussing two-strokes in this book. The day may come when we'll ride around on electric motorcycles powered by hydrogen fuel cells, but for the foreseeable future we'll be riding motorcycles powered by four-stroke gasoline engines.

The basic systems of a four-stroke engine are the bottom end, the cylinder block, the piston, the cylinder, the combustion chamber, the cylinder head, and the fuel intake system.

The Crankcase The crankcase is often referred to as the "bottom end" because it's located at the bottom of almost every engine (though it's at the center of opposed engines like those found on a BMW twin or a four- or six-cylinder Gold Wing-I'll explain that later in this chapter). It consists of a crankshaft that rotates in a series of bearings. This rotation carries through the clutch, transmission, and final drive system, until it becomes the rotation of your rear tire on the pavement, which is what makes your motorcycle move down the road. Piston rods connect the crankshaft to the pistons.

These days most motorcycles are so reliable that if you regularly change your engine oil, you can ride for hundreds of thousands of miles and not give any thought to the bottom end, but that wasn't always the case. Before we had the advanced oils, oiling systems, and bearing materials we have today, spinning a bearing or throwing a rod was a common occurrence. These are catastrophic failures that can result in internal parts of the engine exploding through cases and cylinder barrels and becoming external parts. This can be a little like a grenade going off between your legs, so it's a very good thing that modern bikes have such reliable bottom ends.

To be fair, some of the methods we used to rely on for hot-rodding our engines, like "stroking" them (this refers to the practice of installing a different crankshaft that increases the length a piston travels up and down in the cylinder, effectively increasing cubic inches without making the cylinder itself any larger), improved performance, but they also put more stress on the parts and increased the likelihood that the engine would grenade between a rider's legs. Modern motorcycle engines are too complex to easily stroke, though a few people still do this to their older 74-inch Shovelheads and Panheads. If you plan to do this to your engine, make sure you or whomever you hire to do the job knows what he's doing.

The Cylinder Block(s) Every gas-piston engine has one or more cylinder blocks. They are aluminum blocks (any practical modern motorcycle that you will consider buying will have an aluminum engine) with a hole or holes drilled in it or them for the piston or pistons. This hole is usually lined with a steel liner for durability, though some motorcycles have cylinder walls coated with harder alloys in place of steel liners.

On a single-cylinder or an inline engine like that found on a four-cylinder sport bike or a parallel-twin engine like that found on a Triumph, there will be just one cylinder block. There are a small number of V-four engines in production; these usually have one large cylinder block with four holes drilled in it.

On a V-twin like a Victory or a Harley, there are two cylinder blocks. V-twin owners usually call these cylinder blocks "barrels" or "jugs" because they look like water barrels or jugs. They may have earned the name "jugs" because some people think they look a little like certain parts of a well-endowed woman, but it takes a lot of imagination to see the resemblance.

All motorcycle cylinder blocks (except a few specialized cylinder blocks used to build drag-racing engines) will feature some sort of cooling system. On water-cooled bikes this will consist of water jackets around the cylinders (hollowed-out s.p.a.ces through which cooling water circulates from the radiator to the cylinder block and back to the radiator again). On air-cooled bikes like Harleys and Victories this will just be a series of cooling fins that provide a surface area over which the pa.s.sing air can remove the heat generated from the combustion process.

The type of cooling system is probably the single most important factor in reliability and longevity in a modern engine. Liquid cooling is generally the best type when it comes to making an engine last. All modern cars and trucks are liquid cooled, and most modern engines will run for more than two hundred thousand miles.

Today's motorcycles are also water cooled, though air cooling is not necessarily a bad thing. As engine size increases, the amount of heat generated also increases, so it becomes harder to cool an engine with air alone when the cubic inches start to rise. As their air-cooled engines have grown larger, Harleys have had some cooling issues in recent years. To alleviate the problem Harley offers a system in which the rear cylinder shuts down at idle to help keep it cool when the bike is at rest.

Victory takes a different route. There are oil jets in a Victory engine that spray streams of cooling oil at the bottoms of the pistons, right at the area in which the most heat is generated. The cylinders still crank out a h.e.l.lacious amount of heat and will bake your inner thigh on a hot Arizona day, but that is true of just about every motorcycle. If you want to ride in air-conditioned comfort, you're reading the wrong book. I can tell you from tens of thousands of miles of experience that Victory engines seem to run cooler in stop-and-go traffic than Harley engines, which is one of the things I like about Victory motorcycles.

Harley does make what seems like a very good liquid-cooled motorcycle: the V-Rod. I have friends who own them and they speak very highly of them.

The Pistons, Cylinder, Combustion Chamber, Cylinder Head, and Fuel Intake System The pistons-the aluminum slugs that go up and down in the cylinder blocks-are the beating heart of a motorcycle engine. They're powered by a fuel-air charge that burns in the combustion chamber, which is the area at the top of the cylinder. This burning generates an engine's energy as well as most of its heat.

The cylinder head is the a.s.sembly that sits atop the cylinder block. It contains valves that open and close to allow the fuel charge to get in and the spent exhaust gases to get out. Motorcycle engines can have anywhere from two to five valves per cylinder. Most Harleys have two valves per cylinder: one intake and one exhaust. Victory motorcycles all have four valves: two intake valves and two exhaust valves. Some Hondas have three valves per cylinder, and a handful of Yamahas had five valves per cylinder, but most modern motorcycles will have four valves per cylinder.

With very few exceptions, the fuel-air charge is injected by electronically controlled atomizers on modern motorcycles, though there are still a few good used bikes out there that have old-fas.h.i.+oned carburetors mixing the fuel-air charge and getting it into the combustion chamber. Triumph recently switched from carburetion to fuel injection on its Bonneville-series twins, and these bikes had been some of the last new models to feature carburetors.

THE FOUR STROKES OF A FOUR-STROKE.

FOUR-STROKE ENGINES ARE CALLED four-strokes because each cycle of the combustion process consists of four strokes of the piston. The first (downward) stroke is called the "intake stroke" because the intake valves open on this stroke and the downward-moving piston draws in the fuel-and-air charge. The second (upward) stroke is called the "compression stroke" because the upward-moving piston compresses the fuel-air charge, which is ignited very near the top of the compression stroke (called "top dead center," or TDC). The energy generated by this ignition is called "combustion," and it's what gives its name to the third (downward) stroke, the combustion stroke (also called the "power stroke"). The fourth (upward) stroke is called the "exhaust stroke" because the exhaust valves open on this stroke, allowing the upward-moving piston to force the spent exhaust gases out through the open valves. four-strokes because each cycle of the combustion process consists of four strokes of the piston. The first (downward) stroke is called the "intake stroke" because the intake valves open on this stroke and the downward-moving piston draws in the fuel-and-air charge. The second (upward) stroke is called the "compression stroke" because the upward-moving piston compresses the fuel-air charge, which is ignited very near the top of the compression stroke (called "top dead center," or TDC). The energy generated by this ignition is called "combustion," and it's what gives its name to the third (downward) stroke, the combustion stroke (also called the "power stroke"). The fourth (upward) stroke is called the "exhaust stroke" because the exhaust valves open on this stroke, allowing the upward-moving piston to force the spent exhaust gases out through the open valves.

REDLINING.

I'M NOT A HUGE fan of Harley-Davidson motorcycles. That is partly because for many years Harley sold motorcycles that were worn-out antiques even when they were new. In 1969 AMF (American Machinery and Foundry) bought Harley. By that time the j.a.panese had begun to introduce motorcycles with modern technology, and in the following years the pace of development of motorcycle technology quickened. When AMF sold Harley in 1981, the motorcycles coming from j.a.pan were so highly developed that they made the motorcycles they produced in the 1960s look like antiques. fan of Harley-Davidson motorcycles. That is partly because for many years Harley sold motorcycles that were worn-out antiques even when they were new. In 1969 AMF (American Machinery and Foundry) bought Harley. By that time the j.a.panese had begun to introduce motorcycles with modern technology, and in the following years the pace of development of motorcycle technology quickened. When AMF sold Harley in 1981, the motorcycles coming from j.a.pan were so highly developed that they made the motorcycles they produced in the 1960s look like antiques.

The bikes Harley built between 1969 and 1981 had barely changed; if anything, they got even worse. AMF looked at Harley as a cash cow and milked it dry. The company put very little money into product development. Instead, AMF ramped up production so that besides selling antiquated motorcycles, Harley's quality control went down the toilet; not only were Harley's motorcycles handicapped with old-fas.h.i.+oned technology like cast-iron engines, but they also became increasingly unreliable.

It wasn't that way when I started riding. In the 1950s all but the most expensive high-performance motorcycles had cast-iron engines and Harleys were as good as or better than any other bike on the market. But within fifteen years the j.a.panese, German, and Italian manufacturers were selling motorcycles with aluminum cylinder blocks almost exclusively. Besides Harley, only the British still used cast iron for their cylinder blocks, and it didn't work out too well for them: by the early 1980s the entire British motorcycle industry had gone bankrupt. In fact, the British motorcycle industry would have gone out of business many years earlier if the UK government hadn't propped it up for the last twenty years of its existence.

Harley almost died at the same time. The Motor Company continued to build bikes with cast-iron cylinder jugs until the mid-1980s, when the aluminum Evolution engine hit the market. Because it is important to me as a patriot to ride an American motorcycle, I was stuck riding unreliable cast-iron Shovelheads all those years, and they were terrible motorcycles. Back then I spent as much time wrenching as riding, and it p.i.s.sed me off. Harleys got a lot better after they started building the Evolution engines, but even today they are still old-fas.h.i.+oned air-cooled pushrod engines. (That means they have their cams down in the bottom end, and they use pushrods to operate the valves.) Only a few other motorcycle manufacturers still use pushrods, like Royal Enfield from India, Moto Guzzi from Italy, and Ural from Russia, none of which are terribly reliable motorcycles. I wouldn't consider any of these brands when buying a motorcycle for practical transportation. Almost every motorcycle built today uses modern overhead-cam systems. Even most V-twin engines, like the engine found in my Victory, feature overhead cams.

Overhead-cam engines are more efficient and generate more power than pushrod engines, all else being equal, because they keep the valves under more direct control, allowing the engine to rev higher before valve float sets in. Valve float occurs when the cam pushes open the valve more rapidly than the valve spring can close it-it's a bad thing. If your bike is equipped with a tachometer, it will have a red zone marked on its face beginning at a certain rpm (revolutions per minute) range. The rpm range where the red zone begins is called the "redline," and is usually the engine speed at which valve float sets in. If you run your tach needle past the redline, you can destroy your engine.

Having an engine explode between your legs is not an experience I'd wish on my worst enemy. It's rare that a motorcycle engine will explode like a grenade, sending shrapnel outside the engine cases, but what happens when you spin a bearing or throw a rod can be just as deadly.

Usually you'll be going faster than you should be when this happens, which may well be why your engine explodes. You'll be riding along, enjoying the open road, and your engine will seize up. This in turn stops your rear tire from turning and it happens in less time than it takes for your heart to beat. If you're not covering your clutch (we'll discuss this in the advanced riding section of the book) and don't immediately pull in the clutch lever to disengage the rear wheel from the seized engine, you'll skid out of control and crash.

If your bike starts to skid sideways before you pull in the clutch, you'll have an even worse crash. When your tire is skidding, you lose all traction. When you pull in the clutch and the tire starts turning again, you'll regain traction. If your bike has started to skid to one side or the other, when you regain traction it will snap back in the opposite direction. This can easily happen with such force that it launches the entire motorcycle in the air. Of course you'll get launched with it. This is called "high-siding," and short of hitting a tree or a guardrail, it's about the worse kind of single-vehicle crash you can have on a motorcycle.