Good day yesterday.
Rolling Thunder was un-characteristically surreal.
By that, I mean, heres the scenario:
Approximately 100-200,000 RUB's (Rich Urban Biker, not an honor to be named such), throw in about 100,000 true to life hardcore motorcycle enthusiasts, throw in about 1000 of your 1% 'ers, and then probably 20-30,000 average motorcycle riding Joe's. All of the aforementioned folks, are screaming down Constitution Ave., along 3rd St. in front of the Capitol, and back up Independence Ave, to The Wall, and the newly dedicated WWII Memorial. In other words, a fairly normal Rolling Thunder Ride.
But- Add about 400,000 WWII Vets, plus their respective families, with the average Vets age being around 80 years old, and now you have quite a spectacle.
Some of them were happy to see the bikes. Some of them were amazed to see that many bikes, but they were all bewildered by the 6 hour continuous drone of Overhead Valve, Internal Combustion, Straight pipe V-Twin madness, which creates the "Rolling Thunder" effect. After I parked Maria-Carmen, I watched for about 3 hours. Not the bikes, I've seen them for the last 14 years; but the people.
I missed the perfect photo-op, when I witnessed a Vet from the WWII Bomber group Hell's Angels, chatting away with a member from the Hells Angels. It would have been quite the funny little shot. This older 80ish year old man, in his brown leather bombers jacket, with the original Hells Angels insignia on the back, standing next to your prototypical 1%'er, with his own version of the deathshead colors adorning his sleeveless denim jacket.
I met my father down at the Wall, and he pointed out some of the names of the guys he worked with in Viet-Nam, and then he and I walked over and saw the WWII Memorial together. Then we went and had a few beers at a quiet little bar that I have been known to frequent. After riding my old man back to the Metro station (he wont get on the freeway on the back of my bike), I met a few of the club at another bar uptown, and we talked and fixed bikes until midnite.
It was probably one of the better days I've had in the last 10 years. Fuck that. It was the 2nd best day of my life.
-TC
Rolling Thunder was un-characteristically surreal.
By that, I mean, heres the scenario:
Approximately 100-200,000 RUB's (Rich Urban Biker, not an honor to be named such), throw in about 100,000 true to life hardcore motorcycle enthusiasts, throw in about 1000 of your 1% 'ers, and then probably 20-30,000 average motorcycle riding Joe's. All of the aforementioned folks, are screaming down Constitution Ave., along 3rd St. in front of the Capitol, and back up Independence Ave, to The Wall, and the newly dedicated WWII Memorial. In other words, a fairly normal Rolling Thunder Ride.
But- Add about 400,000 WWII Vets, plus their respective families, with the average Vets age being around 80 years old, and now you have quite a spectacle.
Some of them were happy to see the bikes. Some of them were amazed to see that many bikes, but they were all bewildered by the 6 hour continuous drone of Overhead Valve, Internal Combustion, Straight pipe V-Twin madness, which creates the "Rolling Thunder" effect. After I parked Maria-Carmen, I watched for about 3 hours. Not the bikes, I've seen them for the last 14 years; but the people.
I missed the perfect photo-op, when I witnessed a Vet from the WWII Bomber group Hell's Angels, chatting away with a member from the Hells Angels. It would have been quite the funny little shot. This older 80ish year old man, in his brown leather bombers jacket, with the original Hells Angels insignia on the back, standing next to your prototypical 1%'er, with his own version of the deathshead colors adorning his sleeveless denim jacket.
I met my father down at the Wall, and he pointed out some of the names of the guys he worked with in Viet-Nam, and then he and I walked over and saw the WWII Memorial together. Then we went and had a few beers at a quiet little bar that I have been known to frequent. After riding my old man back to the Metro station (he wont get on the freeway on the back of my bike), I met a few of the club at another bar uptown, and we talked and fixed bikes until midnite.
It was probably one of the better days I've had in the last 10 years. Fuck that. It was the 2nd best day of my life.
-TC
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
im doing a freedom ride in two weeks for the troops, past and present. my cousin is in iraq right now.
unfortunately, i think im a rub. or mub (middleclass urban biker)
I love your account of your Rolling Thunder ride, hanging with your dad, and just living life in a good atmosphere. Sometimes D.C. gets that magic.
Both you and I are 33, and we have dads who were in Viet-Nam. I went with my dad to the Wall to do wax rubbings.
I wonder what the VERY BEST DAY of your life was . . . .