Hollister Motorcycle Rally Ages On

If the "American Biker" was born in 1947 in downtown Hollister, this 61-year-old chrome-chewing, rubber-burning, hell-raising wild child could start collecting social security money soon.

But as any real biker will tell you - he'd probably spend it all on his motorcycle anyway.

And this weekend, when thousands of choppers and hogs descend upon the town for the Hollister Motorcycle Rally, bikers young and old will undoubtedly take a look back at the long, twisted road they've ridden down to get here.

"Being a biker is more than just owning a motorcycle," said 46-year biker veteran Marlon Moss, of Hollister. "It's a way of life."

The life of the American Biker has been an epic drama. A bug-splattered side mirror's reflection of the decades as they ripped by, then faded into the highway's horizon.

Not so much born - more shot out of an oily cannon into a perfect wheelie, the American Biker roared onto the dusty streets of Downtown Hollister on July 4, 1947. The weekend's famed "incident" involving widespread drinking, motorcycle racing and various combinations thereof was coined a "riot" by media sources.

Soon, the fear of roving bands of greasy biker thugs invading a town and breeding anarchy was instilled in the masses.

Marlon Brando as "Johnny" in the 1953 film "The Wild One" was inspired by the Hollister "invasion" and remains the most venerated showcase of biker culture to most motorcycle enthusiasts.

Through the 60s and 70s the motorcycle and its rider was looked at as a form of rebellion against the 9-to-5 world. The social upheaval of the times proved fertile soil to grow the kind of adrenaline-chasing, hard-drinking, never-say-die speed demon that should never be given a motorcycle.

"In the 60s and the 70s the majority of major riders were a hard-core group," Moss said. "You had people who lived the life to an extreme and didn't worry about anything else."

"Big John" is hard-core. For 46 years, he's cruised Harleys down countless stretches of highways. A member of the Twisted Souls Motorcycle Club, the bald, tall and bulky man bellied up to the Whiskey Creek Saloon and talked about his 1997 Harley Heritage Springer like it was his oldest, truest friend.

"The thing about a Harley is it will come between you and your wife or girlfriend," he said.

Big John said his "brothers" in the Twisted Souls are like family and that, in the end, the motorcycle is only half of what makes a biker - the other half are the people he chooses to ride with.

"Most people don't live the lifestyle every day," he said. 'They just live it on the weekends. It's really all about just getting a group of people together and doing something. The camaraderie that forms is incredible."

Through the 80s, motorcycle clubs like the Hells Angels and Outlaws continued to inspire the image of the rebellious biker. The term "one percenters" was used by the outlaws to describe themselves as the fanatical fringe of the motorcycle community.

But by the 90s, the biker began to merge into the mainstream lane and soon, dads who had dreamed of riding a steel horse and moms who had always looked good in leather were buying bikes, joining clubs and riding on the weekends or between their kids' soccer practice and math tutor sessions.

"Today you have doctors, lawyers, teachers. Everyone's getting a bike," said Benito Mendoza, owner of Thunder Road Motorcycles on Fourth Street. "You get these weekend warriors who you never would recognize on the street without their bike."

Still, one word permeates through nearly every barroom rant or garage speech given by the modern biker - freedom.

"It's about freedom," Moss said. "The freedom to leave all your troubles at home, climb on your bike and feel the wind in your face. The freedom to not only see the surroundings but to feel the wind and smell the air - to really experience the road. Like any form of recreation, it's an escape."