Easy Riders: Social motorcycle clubs are all the leather, without the violence

It was Christmas time in downtown Kansas City, Mo. A line of families stretched around the block; the children grew fidgety as they awaited Santa’s arrival. In the distance they heard a roar, like a low rumble of thunder. Finally Mr. and Mrs. Claus arrived in a vintage Excalibur roadster, escorted by 25 gleaming motorcycles. The crowd went wild.

Events throughout the year, like the holiday celebration in Missouri or a fundraiser for multiple sclerosis on Memorial Day in New Jersey, are becoming more common for motorcycle clubs.

While bikers are still making headlines for events like the recent drug busts of two Hells Angels in California or the shooting of a motorcycle gang leader in Connecticut, biker violence has declined. Instead, motorcycle clubs--most prefer not to be labeled a gang--are focusing on community involvement in an effort to change their bad-boy image. As the number of mainstream motorcyclists has grown, social- and family-oriented clubs now number in the thousands.

With clubs targeting Christians, women and veterans, with names like the Sober Disciples and the Soul Patrol, motorcyclists in the United States come from all professions, ages and races. These riders share a common purpose: reversing the hard-core "ride or die" attitude of bikers to a more subtle and philanthropic "live and share the love" philosophy. Many bikers say that the camaraderie they feel when riding together spills out beyond their own circle and into their local communities.

"We came together because we shared an interest in developing brotherhood, community involvement and a serious love for motorcycling," said Frederick Murrell of the Zodiac Motorcycle Club in Kansas City.

Motorcycle clubs draw members because events like ride-a-thons to raise money for cancer research also allow the clubs to congregate and show off their freshly waxed wheels. Biker fests like National Bike Week, which draws crowds of 350,000, give out a cash prize for the best bike club--with one of the criteria being how the group has contributed to its community.

"We’re out here to overcome negative stigmas," said Glynda Carmicheal-Pettisord, president of Queen City Divas, an all-female motorcycle club with chapters in North Carolina and Ohio.

On a recent Saturday, 15 Queen City members from Charlotte mounted their bikes and rode through rain, hail and thunderstorms in the Tennessee mountains to raise money for a nursing home. The ride-a-thon, in which the Divas solicited sponsors to support the elderly, is a common charitable function for motorcycle clubs across the country.

In Newark, N.J., the Trike Master’s Motorcycle Club collected more than $5,000 for victims of Hurricane Katrina and recently extended its college scholarship program beyond the city to statewide applicants.

Angel Irizarry wears a tie to his consulting job in Manhattan by day and dons a leather vest on the weekends. For Irizarry, president of Passaic City Riders in New Jersey, motorcycle club functions provide a chance to network with like-minded professionals.

"You meet so many types of people--IRS agents, lawyers, engineers," he said. "You can create outstanding contacts in the motorcycle community.

Durrell Johnson’s motorcycle club, the Buffalo Soldiers of Shreveport, La., which has done work to restore cemeteries and to feed the homeless, tends to stay in high-class hotels on weekend trips. Johnson, known as Big Sarge, is used to the cagey glances from other hotel guests. "They’re not sure if we’re going to get crazy, do burnouts in the parking lot or trash the bar," Johnson said. "But when they hear us talking, they warm up."

Most of the negative perceptions of bikers stem from Hollywood movies that glorify the violence of outlaw gangs like the Hells Angels and the Pagans. In the Marlon Brando film "The Wild One," outlaw biker gangs converge on a small town and raise holy terror. The 1950s film was deemed "scandalous" by critics and banned in Britain.

With the emergence of clubs like the Buffalo Soldiers, whose founder Kalan Washington, known as Professor, is a special education teacher with a neatly trimmed goatee, the ruffian image has started to fade. As motorcycling rides a wave of popularity, motorcycle sales in 2005 climbed 5 percent from 2004, which had seen the highest sales numbers in 25 years.

"They come in with their leather and bikes that make a lot of noise," said Dr. Lillian Ramos, whose Head Start program in New Jersey has a four-year partnership with the Passaic City Riders. "But leather doesn’t make them any worse a person. Their intentions, caring for the children, are real."

And for members of the Buffalo Soldiers, their good deeds have overshadowed their tattooed appearance. Marcelle Tubbs, communications director for a homeless shelter in Shreveport, said the organization relies on donations from the biker community.

"We see them and we embrace them," Tubbs said. "There’s nothing outlaw about them as far as I’m concerned."

E-mail: jkm2111@columbia.edu