Biker "Code"

I came across this in another forum. I found it posted here a while ago, but it was way buried. I know this doesn't apply to all, but some might appreciate it. It has much in it that represents men I looked up to as a young kid, friends I've kept since, and the man I try to be now.(and all to oft fall short.) It's not all there, and it's not all exact, but its pretty darned close.

"Biker's Code
Author: Unknown

What Every Biker Should Know
The two-wheeled code of the west
It used to be that all bikers shared a common bond, an unspoken code of ethics and behavior that transcended words and was built on actions. There was never a bible written on this Biker's Code of the West and there was no need for such to me. But the times are a-changin' and there seems to be a lot of new riders out there. These days the riders you see blastin' down the tarmac are just as likely to be clad in shorts and sneakers as jeans and engineer boots. And the roughest, toughest-looking biker you pull up next to could be your doctor or lawyer and may be wearin' a Rolex watch under his leathers. There's nothing wrong with that, so long as these new riders learn the Code of the West just as we old-timers did.

Being a biker used to be about using your creativity to take a basket case old hawg and using only grit and ingenuity, turning it into a one of a kind eye dazzler, then risking your life on the asphalt on a bike you made yourself out of pride. Bikers wore leather and grease because they knew cagers would just as soon run them down as look at them, so they had to be intimidating. We were a breed unto ourselves with no union, no support group, and in many cases, no family (they threw us out). We had to make it in the world of our own, against all rules, against mainstream society, and against all odds. You know, we survived and prospered because of the Biker Code of the West and we never took *#@** from anybody. As an old scooter tramp named Jug once said, "It's every tramp's job to school the young. How else are they gonna know a Panhead from a bed pan?" With that in mind, we bring you a primer on the basic two-wheeled Code of the West. Take heed, brothers and sisters, for our Code is a hallowed one filled with honor and loyalty, the likes of which have not been since the days of knighthood.

The Biker Commandments
Don't take any *#@**. Be kind to woman, children and animals, but don't take any bullshit. This is an essential part of being a biker. It has to do with respect and honor. Anyone can be a brash, quick- tempered lout. Be cool, stand tall and backup what you say with action.

Never lie, cheat or steal. Another way of saying this is to always tell the truth. Bikers are always the greasy bad guys in the movies, but every real biker knows that his word is his bond. Your word is all you have in life that is truly yours. Guard it carefully and be about something noble, for you are a true knight of the road.

Don't snitch. If you see a wrong, fight it yourself. If you are about anything, you'll take care of problems yourself and never feel the need to snitch someone off. Snitches are the lowest life forms on earth, right up there with biker thieves. This rule goes hand in hand with the next one.

Don't Snivel. Absolutely no one likes or respects a sniveler. Another way to say this is hold your mud. Still another way to think of it is, "Don't sweat the small stuff." Most of life's little inconveniences work themselves out whether you snivel or not. Keep your chin up, dammit! You're a biker, not some lowly mollusk.

Never say die and never give up. Whether it's in a fight, a debate, or a business deal, no matter how bad it gets, a biker never gives up. That's why you see a lot of wealthy bikers these days, 'cause they don't know how to quit in any element of their lives. In the biker world of rugged individualists, only the strong survive.

Help others. When a brother or sister is broken down by the side of the road, stop and help them. Even moral support, it that is all you can give, is better than riding on by. Remember life is about the journey, the ride, not getting there. You already are there. And don't just help bikers, show the world that we are better than our image portrays us. Courtesy costs you nothing and gives you everything.

Stick to your guns. Do what you say you'll do, be there when you say you will. This is called integrity. This also goes back to standing for something. Like the song says, "You've got to stand for something or you'll fall for anything."

Life is not a drill. Yeah, this ain't no dress rehearsal. This is life-go out and take big bites of it. You've got no time to lose and bikers don't stand around waiting for the party to come to them. You only go around once. Tomorrow you could be road kill, thanks to a chain smoker asleep at the wheel of his Caddy. Live life now, make the most of each moment. This is not a drill.

Summary
All right, now let's review. You are a biker, a modern-day knight of the road. Protect the weak, walk tall and stand proud. Your word is your bond. Stick to your guns. Don't take any *#@**. Life is not a drill. Now go forth and ride. When in doubt, ride. That's what we do...ride. If you want to ride around in a Day-Glo Hawaiian shirt and sandals, go for it, but if you intend to look like a goof, at least don't act like a goof. These commandments are just a few of the broad strokes, there is a lot more to being a biker than buying a bike. If you just buy a bike, you are a motorcyclist. Being a biker is a way of life, a proud way of life we hold in high regard and with a burning passion for the open highway and for life.

Now ride, dammit!

- Author Unknown"

 

hey man i hear you there... i grew up around the biker lifestyle my mom rode on the back of my dads bike, my dad was a biker, my uncle is a biker, my godfather and the uncles that arnt uncles are all bikers its in my blood so to speak.....my ride style, live by the code ride by the code....and im sorry to contridict this guys summary but if your dumb enough to wear sandals while riding you need to seriously rethink your riding habits.

 

What you need are flip-flops on a hot day... with forward controls stretched waaaay out *evil grin*

It was kind of the same way in my family. In the summers, you rode. In the winter everyone hunted. Either way the garage/basement(whichever we had at the time) was full.

 

flip flops for beach routes with highway pegs haha
in my family i was practically raised by chosen few and hessians along with some freelance riders......and the garage either had a bike in it or the parts to a bike in it. now its got my bike parts and my bike in it.

 

although i say i am very discouraged by the family with my bike make and model my family are harley and indian fanatics. USA only group of family.

 

Tell them to buy you one of each for comparison.

 

hahaha for reals my uncle has a basket shovel i think hes gonna give me to put together for my eighteenth birthday so soon or one day ill have one.

 

Its not just a code but a lifestyle to boot

 

My Grandpa rode Dallas police department for almost 20 years. When he wasn't policing, he was riding. Both my uncles on my mothers side rode. Not sure about Dad, never was around; he was a rolling stone. But it's damn sure in my blood. It wasn't unusual to see me on the back of one of their bikes when I was a kid. They stopped often to help change tires. They fetched more than one jug of water for a steaming radiator. One of my earliest memories was the three of them beating the crap out of a couple of guys who were robbing a gas station. I thought that was just the way everyone was. Then I grew up.

Grandpa had a bad accident on his goldwing, after which we learned he had cancer. He lasted another 3 months. I think what killed him was not being able to ride. One uncle we lost to drugs and alcohol, the other was shot when he stopped to render aid at the scene of an accident. They lived and died by the code. I should be so lucky........

 

i'm the opposite... my parents don't believe in motorcycles in the slightest... none of there brothers nor sisters did either... i guess I'm just making up for lost time!

 

07spacker, im with you...

only one relative out of 11 aunts and uncles on my dads side and numerous cousins and 2nd cousins on both sides had a bike...

he was a truck driver and he had a full dress harley with a side car. when he wasnt haulin' the freight he was haulin' the wife. this was back in the 70s so his bike would have been a pan head i think. i didnt know squat about bikes since there werent any around. i never so much as sat on it...

i bought this bike in the summer of 91 and put it up in 94. it came out of the dust covered haze last year and with any luck shell be racking up some miles again in a couple of months. i guess ive got some time to make up myself...

 

fr......burn,

I think that is the most refreshing thing I've read or heard in awhile. There is a quote coming to mind and I can't think of by whom, or quote it verbatim, but the gist is that there are two basic freedoms in life. First, the freedom to do as one chooses, and second the freedom to suffer the consequences of your choices.

I'm suspecting that the couple guys your family was "teaching" hadn't given much thought to part two of that equation.

Back on topic to "The Code". I'm not even a Biker yet, just a bike owner, but I can't see how it would be a poor way to carry onself irregardless of how many wheels you use to travel.

 

When I was getting my first bike, my mother (no joke) said, "Surely you're not thinking about riding that before you get seatbelts!"

 

Haha good stuff! Seatbelts sheesh that sounds like my wife...

 

My Father (RIP) in the Thirties, had an Indian. His idea of a good time was to drive from Pelham, NH down Rt 38 to Lowell, Ma, have a few (or more) drinks, hop on the Indian, drive around until he saw a cop, and give the cop the finger. At the time, cops didn't have radios, and the law stated they couldn't chase you over state lines. Then he's outrun the cop, goin' hellbent for leather
up to NH. He only got popped a few times out of a couple hundred times he did it, and got the crap beaten out of him only twice. When he was in his seventies, he'd have a beer and tell this story to anyone that would listen.

God, I miss him.

 

thanks for a wonderful story; he was obviously a pretty special man.

being outrageous can be so much fun. I love being at a stop light next to a testosteridiot in a hot-engined car who thinks he can easily out-accelerate a rider on a hot-engined bike... which weighs maybe a third of his ride. I like to think I'm helping them understand basic physics.

and, though it's a car anecdote, the same would apply to bikes...
back when I lived in Jacksonville, FL there was a city park with a narrow but strong wooden walk bridge over a little creek/gulley. Lord forgive me but when driving my tiny H-Production racer (948cc/1300#wet) I would annoy a cop, take a few turns, then scoot into the park, across that bridge and away into the sunset. Sure it was stupid, but then so was I. And it was big fun!