Erik Larson

Dec 22, 2008

The Harley Dudes

I was driving on 183 a couple of days ago, and this gaggle of Harley bikers rumbled past me, leather jackets and babes on the back. I was doing maybe 70 in a 65 zone, and so the bikers must have had their hogs up to 75 or 80. It occurred to me, with the vibrations of their engines pulsating through the door of my Toyota and the Bon Jovi or whatever anthem rock I’d cranked up temporarily drowned out, that I never see these guys get pulled over for speeding. When has anyone ever seen a bunch of Harley dudes parked to the side of the highway, doing that give-me-my-ticket-so-I-can-leave shame thing? What’s the deal? My theory is that they’re too damn harley , to make the noun an adjective for present purposes; it’s not in the fabric of things to have these guys getting written up by un-cool Johny Law. They’re only popped if things escalate, like a knife fight in Vegas. Or if something goes down in Sturgis.

But I love these guys anyway. I just wish they wouldn’t drown out my anthem rock when I’m pulling gears in my 6 cylinder Tacoma. We all need those harly moments.