In the set up to this opus, we asked if honest citizens have anything to fear from the explosion of “biker gangs” that are in growing numbers roaring up and down our highways and byways in menacing fashion.
In spite of their unkempt appearance and snotty looks, most take them as nothing more than middle-aged men dealing with the loss of their youth and seeking the company of buds and what passes these days as the “open road” to get them through their mid-life crises.
This is an image promoted by the bikers themselves, when local governments seek to bring some law and order to these self-styled “knights of the highways”.
“Who us?”, they ask with wide-eyed innocence, “We’re just harmless and lovable fuzz balls looking for a ride”.
I bought into that too. Until a recent encounter with a small pack of them on a suburban byway that is. Now I wonder if honest citizens need to start packing heat.
It was an average weekend in the Fall in the Mid-Atlantic region. I was tooling down a four lane divided suburban roadway.
The speed limit was 45, I was going 50. I was traveling south bound, staying in the left lane because I was tooling along faster than the other traffic.
In my rear view mirror I could see a gang of 6 bikers about 2 city blocks back traveling at the same speed I was.
They seemed a jovial group, making with the “bro-sign” to north bound bikers as we made our way to the bridge.
When we hit the stop light just before the bridge, they caught up with me and came to a halt a respectable distance back.
I was studying them in my rear view mirror, interested in the variety of head-gear they were wearing, some of which was clearly illegal.
A dude in the back, wearing what could best be described as a “half moon” or “skull cap’ type helmet maneuvered his hog to the front of the pack.
“Skull cap” was a real piece of work, and it turns out, he had his eyes on me.
As he drew up beside the LoP (leader of the pack) he shouted while pointing at me “You need to do something about that asshole. You need to move him out of the way”.
The LoP said something I couldn’t make out, due to his full helmet and dirty beard. Whatever he said, “skullcap” was satisfied and withdrew to the back of the pack, shouting “make it happen”.
“Scum”, I said to myself, doing a slow burn while trying to reach the video camera I always have beside me for this kind of incident. But I had bought apples and couldn’t reach the camera before the light changed.
Coming up, how this pack of bikers “made it happen”.