The motorcycle unites Hell's Angels and Sliced Hogs. Mods against Rockers. Montesistas and Bultaquistas. The history of rock and roll rebellion has always been closely linked to those monstrous contraptions that, on two wheels, can lead even the most polished person to ruin. EDI CLAVO, drummer for Gabinete Caligari, reveals himself in this report as a true fanatic of speed, motorcycles, and wild, souped-up bikes. FROM THE BEACHES OF GUADALCANAL TO THE HOLLISTER INCIDENT, TRAVELING THROUGH CALIFORNIA WITH LEE MARVIN, HIS STRIPED T-SHIRT, AND THE SATAN'S SLAVES. It all began at the end of World War II, when in California, a small handful of veterans, mainly Marines, landed back home on the sunny West Coast of the United States of America.
- The ideal climate, from southern Oregon to the Mexican border.
- War surplus (powerful American-made motorcycles, Harley and Indian), which were practically given away at auctions.
- And, above all, the desire for action and excitement were the breeding ground that led to the formation of a motorcycle club called the "fighting alcoholics," the true spiritual fathers of the "Hell's Angels" of the early 60s.
Well, in a small town in the Diablo Range called Hollister (California), they starred in the first motorized riot in history, on July 4, 1947. This was simply because more than 3,000 motorcyclists gathered there, which earned good dollars for the sellers of alcoholic beverages and the Hollister gas station by consuming thousands of bottles and hundreds of gallons of gasoline. The truth is that by midnight, the seven town police officers could not contain all those guys who had been drinking since morning and had the wholesome intention of organizing their own race down Main Street in the small Far West town. Conclusions. The next morning the town had been devastated. The small jail was packed, and the city hospital had run out of plaster casts. The fodder was served, and with the convenient dressing of the yellow press, it was going to be devoured by millions of respectable taxpayers. Based on these true events, the film that would be key in the later development of various issues—even beyond the pure motorcycling realm—was made: "The Wild One," produced by an unknown Stanley Kramer and starring a young actor from the Actors Studio in New York City named Marlon Brando. The 1954 release would coincide with various youth movements of rebellion against the conservative post-war era. Many of those movements would assimilate many poses and attitudes from the film, their name: Rock and Roll. Cinematically, it is an excellent Western where the nags have been replaced by powerful motorcycles, overflowing with chrome, and the role of the outlaw is masterfully played by Brando (Johnny), as the leader of the "Black Rebels," embodying the wild-tough-fair individual in contrast to the priceless Lee Marvin (Chino), leader of the rival gang and expert in the "Upper Cut." The film was banned in England by censorship until 1968, when it was released in London with an X rating. In Spain, it is screened from time to time in some film archives and is a must-see for every lover of motorcycles, Brando, Marvin, and Rock and Roll in general. Returning to 1955, we find that various motorcycle clubs were forming along the entire California coast and mainly in the San Francisco Bay, especially in San Bernardino and Oakland, which was possibly where the term "Outlaw Bikers" was coined, under which renowned motorcycle clubs were born, such as: Hell's Angels, led from Oakland by Sonny Barger. The "Outlaw Elite" as they called themselves. They established the basic rules as well as the division into Chapters, according to geographic origin. Gipsies, from Frisco, the #2 outlaw club in California. Satan's Slaves, #3 in the hierarchy, specialists in bike decoration and fond of dog meat. Question Marks from Hayward. Apostles; Satan's Daughters; Presidents; Road Rats; Masked Rides; Iron Riders; Galloping Ducks; Comancheros, from towns like Fresno, San Jose, or Santa Rosa. Gipsy Jokers, Cossacks, Galloping Geese. Misfits, Executioners, and Crusaders, all of them from the various counties of Los Angeles. There were also outlaw clubs in the East, although an infinitely smaller number, notably the Renegades of Detroit. All these Chapters were distinguished by their crusty, sleeveless denim jackets, long hair with beards (in some cases dyed purple), pants waterproofed with successive layers of grime and motorcycle grease, earrings in various lobes (nose, ears, and nipples), and various tattoos. And they were differentiated from one chapter to another by their "Colors," inscriptions sewn on the back of the denim jacket, in which the chapter and the origin of each outlaw were explicit. A cult of generalized aversion was practiced toward leather jackets and their wearers, non-American motorcycles, especially Japanese ones, the use of a regulation helmet, and Black people in general, although there were also outlaw chapters formed only by Black people, such as the Dragoons of San Francisco. Their bikes were invariably Harley Davidson model 74s, called Pigs or Junk Wagons, on which they performed a series of modifications such as the lightening of superfluous parts—fenders, seat—souped-up or transformed gas tanks; some, like the Coffin Thieves Chapter, transformed them into a small and shiny black coffin. The only extras they carried were those required by the law in the state of California: a red taillight, a rearview mirror, and a grab handle for the "Mama," or female companion. There were some who complied with the mirror requirement with a small dentist's mirror, which was technically legal. The resemblance of a Sliced Hog (souped-up Harley 74) to the factory original went back to the chassis only. All the perfect chrome, the chopperization of the fork and the front wheel—replaced in some cases by a bicycle wheel—the seven coats of paint on the tank, the high handlebars, and the Fishtail exhaust pipes could end up as a shapeless mass of twisted iron if the outlaw "went off the top side," which was, in slang, going off in a curve at 110 km/h; and then the 3 or 4,000 dollars of the pig's modification would end up in the pockets of the nearest traumatologist. All this was happening in the peaceful mid-60s, in quiet and sunny California, whose governor was a certain R. Reagan. The glorious times of the Rock and Roll explosion had passed. Eddie Cochran, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and Big Bopper were dead, Elvis was a caricature of himself, Jerry Lee and Chuck Berry had been in the shadows, and the Beach Boys no longer surfed in Mendocino. An indigenous musical movement (West Coast Sound) was brewing, boosted by the appearance of the first hippies, successors to the beatniks, admirers of poets like Ginsberg, consumers of the free LSD mythologized by Timothy Leary, a pro-pacifist, opposed to segregation and the Vietnam War. With them, logically, the outlaw motorcyclists did not have many points in common, which led to various confrontations that caused many Chapters, especially in Berkeley, not to be looked upon favorably by any of the antagonistic strata of American society. Another significant event that was a wake-up call for the Frisco Hell's Angels Chapter occurred during the free concert given by the Rolling Stones on December 6, 1969, in Altamont, as a farewell to their American tour that year. The Hell's Angels were entrusted with the security service, and during the performance, a Black boy died from stabbings and beatings, although it is true that the Black man in question was trying to climb onto the stage revolver in hand. That same year, "Easy Rider" was released, the road movie of the 60s par excellence, which has become a symbol and metaphor for more than a decade. Starring Henry Fonda's son, Peter, alias Captain America, and Dennis Hopper; also directed by the latter. Special mention for Jack Nicholson's brief and punchy appearance. The script, well-known, places the two protagonists on a trip from L.A. to the Mardi Gras carnival in New Orleans aboard two chopperized Harleys; all financed by the profits obtained in a coke business. Although both Fonda and Hopper do not wear the colors of the Outlaw Bikers, they do have some points in common, such as when they reject the hospitality of the hippie commune and then take off in search of what really interested them: fun, drugs, and action in the city of New Orleans, where after the carnival they are shot dead on the open road by two Southern hicks from a van. The soundtrack featured The Byrds, Jimi Hendrix, Roger McGuinn (covering Dylan's "It's All Right, Ma"), Electric Prunes, and above all Steppenwolf with their "Born to Be Wild," which automatically became an anthem for anyone who vibrated with two wheels and an engine. During the 70s, the outlaw motorcycling activity was confined to the limits of the state of California itself. None of their gatherings reached the press, forming part of a closed circle that was and is very difficult to access. Regarding other types of American motorcyclists, almost all of them are grouped into the American Motorcyclist Association (A.M.A.), which organizes the championships there. The most famous races are those held annually at the beginning of March in the city of Daytona, on an oval-shaped circuit. Along the city's Main Street or on the huge nearby beach, everyone gathers, from the dullard with his newly purchased Kawasaki to the degenerate descendants of the Outlaw Bikers, betraying their principles with the gargantuan Honda Aspencades, the closest thing to a bathroom on two wheels and various masonry. The American championship is called the Grand National and is contested mainly on oval dirt tracks (Dirt Track), with great tradition in the USA and from where the great stars who later triumphed in Europe have emerged: Kenny Roberts, Freddie Spencer, or Fred Merkel. As far as outlaw activity is concerned, large annual gatherings are still held today in which it is tradition to destroy and burn a Japanese motorcycle under slogans such as: "Two bombs weren't enough." Another pastime is the "light to light" races, that is, between two traffic lights; and as a culmination, a magazine is published: "Outlaw Bikers," with international distribution, which aims to keep alive the embers of a legend forgotten by time. THE RISE AND FALL OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE AND GOD SAVE THE QUEEN; OR NORTON AGAINST VESPA. In June 1955, the movie "Rock Around the Clock" was released at the Trocadero cinema in the London neighborhood of Elephant and Castle. An incident-spark occurred, like the one in Hollister in the USA, which would set the entire British tabloid press ablaze in unison. Protagonists: The Teddy Boys. They were front-page fodder for newspapers like the Sun or the Evening Standard until the end of the 50s; by which time Rock and Roll, Rebellion, and the Ted-Style had been aired and commercialized ad nauseam. Then, a series of motorized branches were born with new ideas and their own approaches; Ton-Up Boys or Coffee-Bar Cowboys. "Motorized maniacs who will strike you with a motorcycle chain as soon as they see you," is how the sensationalist Evening Standard defined them in January 1961. While the Teddy Boys moved by subway, on foot, or in old Austins, Anglias, or on tricycles, and steered their frock coats toward dance halls and neighborhood cinemas, the Ton-Up Boys professed a cult of motorcycles, British, of course. Norton, Triumph, B.S.A., Vincent, A.J.S., Royal Enfield, etc. Not admitting other European or American brands into their club. (The Japanese at that time only knew how to manufacture mopeds). Their meeting places were the Coffee-Bars (they do not serve alcoholic beverages) around the large English cities—London, Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, Blackpool, Yarmouth, or Scarborough—or the English circuits where Continental Circus races (Motorcycle World Championship) were held; Brands Hatch, Snetterton, Crystal Palace, Silverstone, and above all the legendary Tourist Trophy on the Isle of Man, to admire the stars of the era: Geoff Duke, Les Graham, Bill Lomas, or John Surtees. "There are two types of young people in current Great Britain: those who are earning the world's admiration for their brave and disciplined service in the mountains, jungles, and deserts of Cyprus, Yemen, or Borneo, and on the other hand, there are the Mods and the Rockers, with their switchblades." (Evening Standard, 06-18-64). These and other statements by the press, not only in England but in France and even Spain, blew the Rockers-Mods conflict out of proportion and served, as on other occasions (Hell's Angels, Teddy Boys), to commercialize and vulgarize what in principle was a desire for action and a brawl. On one hand, the Rockers represented the entire tradition of rebellion in England since the late 50s, heirs to the Teddy Boys and the Ton-Up Boys, followers of the stalest Rock and Roll of Elvis, Cochran (who died in Bristol in 1960), Vincent (who would end up settling in G.B.), and the local stars: Vince Taylor, Johnny Kidd & Pirates, Billy Fury, etc., in years, 1963-1964, of frank decline for the style. On the other hand, the Mods, newly arrived kids of 16-17 years old, who spent the day sitting in Wimpy Bars (types of fast-food cafes). Their way of dressing was, compared to that of the Rockers, truly inadequate for riding a motorcycle around; with Op-Art shoes, berets, Ready, Steady, Go! T-shirts, and army parkas, although from another point of view that mattered little when it came to piloting their scooters (150cc Vespas and Lambrettas), which they did with great skill, taking into account that a fall on the slippery British pavement could ruin the entire array of attached mirrors, auxiliary headlights, and satellite dishes. As is evident in the movie "Quadrophenia," many Mods and Rockers were school friends, neighbors, and even kept their machines together in the same garage; the basic motives for the confrontation were, above all, the need for partying and to make themselves noticed in the conservative England of 1964. Proof of this is that in little less than two years, the pitched battles, pharmacy thefts, and sexual promiscuity disappeared from the face of the press as front-page fodder, and in 1966 that "honor" was held by the activities of other groups such as Greasers, Trogs, or Thunderbirds, more wild than Mods and Rockers combined, or when at the beginning of 1967 a plague from across the Atlantic, which the press called Folk Devils, better known as Hippies, was given prestige.
A DERBI ANTORCHA WITH THE CHICK ON THE TAIL In Spain, everything has always been more stunted, and for many years, kids have moved around the cities alone or in gangs, walking or by subway, observing motorcycles as luxury items within the reach of a few. However, there have always been "burning ones" who have been able to gather enough money to get the machine of their dreams. At the beginning of the 60s (I am going to refer to Madrid, even knowing that Barcelona has been the cradle of motorcycling in Spain and enjoys greater tradition than the capital), those who had managed to get the 20,000 pesetas that a Montesa Brio or a Bultaco Tralla cost would meet on the terraces of Moncloa, on Saturday afternoons or nights, after having been dancing at the Jardines Virginia or the Club Consulado. Later, and under the effects of a Schweppes with Larios, the customary bets and challenges would take place, establishing two very well-defined antagonistic camps: Montesistas and Bultaquistas, depending on whether they were admirers of one brand or the other. These struggles were almost always settled either at the Paraninfo of the University City or on the Cuesta de las Perdices, where the distance between winner and loser was measured by how many lampposts one had pulled ahead of the other. Favorite places for Madrid bikers of the time were the curves of the ascent to the Dehesa de la Villa, the Retiro circuit (Jarama did not exist), or the Casa de Campo without speed monitored by radar. The most intense preferred the Barajas highway, where at 120 km/h they could leave behind all the 600s that were within range. These and other diversions would end at the "Casa de las Chuletas" in San Fernando and later at the drive-in theater. In 1969, in the midst of the Economic Boom, development plans, and an invasion of tourists, one of the moments of greatest expansion of national motorcycling occurs; legendary motorcycles appear such as the Bultaco Metralla MK-2 or the Montesa Impala, Angel Nieto wins his first World Championship with a 50cc Derbi, and the mourned Santiago Herrero achieves third place overall in 250cc with the Ossa Monocasco. In the early 70s, there are two quite well-defined groups: on one hand, the so-called "rich kids" (niños pera), whose dad has bought them a Bultaco Lobito or the Ossa Mick Andrews for having passed their 6th-grade exams, and on the other hand, the "gaudy" ones (horteras) with Derbis, as Ramoncín defined them, "who blow off steam by making noise and show off a lot by carrying the chicks (gallinas) on the tail. Their greatest frustration is that at dawn, they find that only the chains and the frame remain of the lamppost to which they had tied the Derbi." Currently, motorcycles continue to be, for the most part, luxury items, difficult for kids in general to acquire. Japanese machines dominate all markets, the powerful British industry only lives on in the memory of some fans of real motorcycles, and national factories can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and there are fingers left over. Text: Edi Clavo (Magazine Ruta 66 year July/August 1986)
