by Cameron Evans from https://www.washingtontimes.com

MISSOULA, Mont. (AP) – Miles McCarvel didn’t think he was ever going to get his 1972 Harley-Davidson motorcycle back after it was stolen four years ago.

On. Oct 13, though, he came home to find the bike leaning up against his garage.

The bike looked exactly the same as the last time McCarvel saw it: it was still missing a battery, the tires were flat and it didn’t have any new miles on it.

“I was like ‘what the hell,’ you know? I couldn’t believe it,” he told the Missoulian.

McCarvel hopped out of his car, took a picture of the red Aermacchi Harley-Davidson 350 Sprint and made a post on Facebook that read: “I built this bike when I was 20 years old! Glad to have it back. I guess there’s good things happening in the world too.”

The post received over 350 reactions and over a hundred comments, including one comment from a person who said their cousin also had a stolen truck returned a couple weeks later with a $20 bill on the console.

Missoula Police Department public information officer Travis Welsh said it isn’t very often that people return items they’ve stolen without police intervention, and said that once a theft has already occurred, any weight given to the gesture of returning the item at a later time would be determined by a prosecutor.

Romance Ricky spent ten years in Iraq. About to go home, he grappled with his mission. Before his time in the service, he enjoyed the fruits of his lovers. A stout, good-looking sort he rode a Panhead chopper and chased women, but like so many young men he didn’t understand the code. Most of the broads he chased didn’t get it either.

He pursued them on the west coast, in Wyoming, Denver, Minneapolis, wherever there was a bar with a girl in tight denims and a bright smile. He caught the clap in Orange County, her boobs like mountains. He got ripped off from an alcoholic in Montana who fucked for fuel. He faced religion with a soft-like-satin girl from a temperance league, who climaxed at the slightest touch.

After five years on the road and too many fifths of Jack Daniels he began to get it, but too late. He got a call from a past love from Bakersfield, California. They met in a farmer’s barn. Pregnant, she had demands, lawyers and the man. He made restitution, paid child-support and joined the service as she disappeared. Beyond cute, she held the shape of a goddess, the smile of a temptress, the eyes of a vulture and the whisper of a rattlesnake. She was no good and determined to punish anyone who touched her precious pussy. They paid, they bought her stuff, took her places, or she got pregnant – and they paid anyway.

No interest in Ricky, she continued to shack up in a constant search for the motherlode. But Ricky’s kid cramped her lascivious style and she tired of the responsibility.

Like so many heartless bitches, she rolled the dice time after time, until she fucked with the wrong dude and ended up in a ditch along highway 99 in mid-state California next to cattle fields. Older and wiser, Ricky returned from overseas and began searching for his son. He sold the chopper, bought a Dyna Glide and hit the road.

He still paid child support and it went somewhere, hopefully to the kid. Still in worn khakis, he rode to downtown LA to Child Services. The checks still sent to a P.O. Box in Bakersfield weren’t cashed. Ricky rode to the central valley with everything he owned in his bags. He found himself at a police station answering questions about Shirley, who was found in a ditch. “But what about my kid,” Ricky asked.

“One in ten thousand find homes,” the detective said as he closed the file. “We will find who dumped your old lady.”

“More of a one-night stand,” Ricky said and thought about the fleeting time he had with Shirley and her nasty voice on the phone.

“I need to find the kid,” Ricky said. The officer led him to another office in the city building, “Child Protective Services.”

A large black female clerk who managed all the cases for abandoned kids in the growing, mostly agricultural and oil town of 400,000, looked at him with depressed eyes. “Can I help you?”

“I just found out the mother of my abandoned son was murdered,” Rick said hoping for clues. “I need to find my kid.”

“You’re looking for your kid?” Gloria said and her eyes brightened.

“Yeah, he could be about twelve years old. I’ve been in Iraq and never met him.” Ricky said.

“Have you paid child support?” Gloria said, in a questioning tone while beginning to hit the keys on her computer.

“From the very beginning,” Ricky said. He pulled out a paper from Child Services in LA and handed it to her. It documented his account and where the checks were sent.

“You’re kidding,” Gloria said. “You’ve never seen your kid, but paid child support all this time and now you want to find him?

“Yep,” Ricky said.

“You’re amazing,” Gloria stuttered, “I won’t have a father like you come in here in five years. Let’s see what we can find. His name is Don and he was assigned to a foster home in Rosedale a couple of years ago, but that didn’t work out. He’s been assigned to a group home on the Southside of Bakersfield, but the reports don’t look good. He’s having problems. The next step down is Juvenile Hall or prison depending on what he gets into.” Gloria looked up at him with sad eyes. “You need to go see him, quick.” She handed him a slip of paper with an address in Terra Vista.

“Good luck,” she said and patted his hand.

The afternoon sun blazed on the streets of Bakersfield as he turned down Planz Road heading into the Hispanic section of town. He peeled down one street after another deeper into a residential district, until one house stuck out on Rio Bravo street lined with ‘50s Hispanic lathe-and-plaster homes. The unkept bungalow teetered dilapidated. As he approached, a 20-something burst onto the porch and tossed a beer can into the weeds, “No beer allowed!” he shouted.

“Excuse me,” Ricky said scrambling off his bike after kicking out the kickstand. “My son might be in your home.”

“We monitor three group homes within a couple of miles from here,” Pepe said and pushed his long scrambled dark hair out of his face. “I work here parttime and go to college at Bakersfield Community College.”

“The kids name is Don Cavalier.” Ricky said.

“Great name,” Pepe said, “Let’s see if he’s on the roster, but it doesn’t sound familiar. The tougher kids are in the Rosemont house with the more senior counselors. We are always welcoming of parents. Don’t see many.”

Pepe took him inside, where the rooms were set up as dorms. A great room and kitchen reminded Ricky of chow halls in the service. The room lined with large white charts, listing felt pen scratched names, assignments and goals. Kids lounged in various donated couches and chairs gawked at Ricky in his fatigues and a leather shirt, carrying his full faced helmet.

“Is he some kind of cop,” one smart-assed kid murmured and sat up. As his guilt surfaced and the thought of arrest threatened, he looked for the slider into the backyard and escape.

“He’s Don’s Dad,” Pepe said. “Just back from Iraq.”

All the boys, spread out around the room sat up. They didn’t see many parents around. A parent, unless drunk, was a very respected and welcome sight.

Ricky immediately noted that even the toughest looking kid seemed sorta incomplete without the attachment to his family unit. He scratched his three-day-old beard and pondered the situation. He wished he could help all of them.

Enrique, a short little kid in the corner stood up. “I remember Don,” he said and looked at the slider. “He got into too many fights, broke this slider with a kid’s head. They moved him to Stone Creek, his last shot.”

“Can I go?” Ricky asked Pepe.

“I’ll call over there,” Pepe said and reached for his cell.

“Better not mention who is coming,” Ricky said. “I don’t want to cause a problem.”

“No sweat,” Pepe said dialing. “You never know how kids will react or what they were told.”

“Do you think he knows about his mom?” Ricky asked.

Pepe looked concerned. “There’s a serious problem over there.”

“Where?” Ricky asked anxiously, grabbing for his helmet and heading for the door pronto.

Pepe pointed and gave him directions. Ricky ran out the door across the lawn to his Dyna and was down the street in a hot flash, burning onto the boulevard and across to the other side of town onto McKee Road.

He slid up to the scruffy looking group home and ran for the door as a police car rounded the other end of the block and drove across the sidewalk onto the tattered lawn.

The same detective burst out of the cruiser. “You’re here?” Officer Fernandez asked.

“Just arrived,” Ricky said and they both ran for the door as another uniform ran around back.

A short, round Hispanic woman met them at the door with blood on her hands. “Another fight,” she said and led them inside. She took a second look at the soldier looking guy with the motorcycle helmet. “Who’s this?” Maria said snatching a towel.

“A father looking for his kid,” the detective said.

Inside one of the dorm rooms, a fat kid laid on his back with his nose busted and a nasty cut on his face. “He’s the bully,” Maria said. “I knew he would find his match someday.”

“I’m Don’s dad,” Ricky said. “I take it my kid did this.”

“He’s confused, Senor,” Maria said, “ever since he heard about his mom. Never knew about a dad.”

“Just out of the service and looking for my kid,” Ricky said.

“He ran off,” Maria said. “You need to find him before the authorities or worse get ahold of him.

“But where now?” Rick asked.

“The kids talk of two means to escape,” the officer looked hard at Maria.

“Yeah,” Maria said as the EMT crew came in to take care of the kid on the grungy carpeted floor. She steered Ricky and the detective toward the outside and the dimming light from the setting sun. Still 85 degrees on the streets, she looked at the officer and toward Ricky. “They talk about help in the Cottonwood area and drugs on the eastside around Wible.”

“Most of them don’t know what the hell to do,” Officer Fernandez said. “Both places are no-win. Just depends on their level of desperation. Hell, he could try to hitchhike out of the area.”

“Fuck,” Ricky said. “Too many options and no time. If only I could’ve talked to him for a minute or took him for a ride.”

Maria took Ricky’s arm. “Most parents give up when it comes to…

“I’m not giving up,” Ricky snapped but looked deep into her caring eyes. “I’ll find him, but I would rather find him now, than after a drug dealer does. He’s tough, he’s not going to be abused in some child-sex ring.”

“I’ll send a couple of units along the highway looking for hitchhikers,” Office Fernandez said. “I’ll let the highway patrol know to watch out for him on Highway 58.”

“I’m headed to the east side,” Ricky said and reached out to Maria. “Where the fuck am I going?”

She pointed at the street and gave him directions over two blocks to the main thoroughfare, right for a half mile and you’ll be there on East Pacheco Road. He plowed into tweaker zone without a clue in the world where to go. The Eastside of Bakersfield was a failed community of strip malls, stucco and concrete. The homes were all the same and falling down. The strip malls were filled with similar businesses from pot shops, massage parlors and saloons, all with the same boxy infrastructure. Just the faded signs changed.

Ricky blasted up and down the boulevard looking for a kid he didn’t know. He could only surmise the size and shape. He saw a crowded pot shop, Devil’s Brew, the parking lot jammed with a crazy array of vehicles including rusting pickups, choppers, worn-out sedans and even a flashy sportscar or two.

Ricky scoped it out and found a safe place to stash his Dyna. He walked through the parking area to the blacked-out, glass front door with the silver-leaf Devil’s logo and pinstriping, while checking out the patrons. He knew a tweaker when he saw one. With security at the front Ricky moved around back. The pot shop expanded into the shop next door through an inside wall. Ricky could tell, because the rear door was locked down tight, but the door for the empty shop next door was surrounded by guys looking shady, making quick deals and dashing off.

A stash of bicycles leaned against the stained stucco wall and when kids approached, they were handed small packages and a note. They’d grab a bicycle and peel off in several directions. As quickly as the sales effort started, it stopped and the new steel door shut tight.

Ricky felt lost. None of the kids looked the correct stature or like a new recruit. He made his way around front where Superfly blasted from a speaker hanging from one long drywall screw. He spotted one of the security guards walking away from the front door and lighting a cigarette. He watched intently as most of the vehicles moved away from the parking area into the night.

As he puffed on the butt, the buffed black kid moved toward Ricky’s Dyna. They were similar stature, so Ricky approached. “Like it?” Ricky asked and startled the young security guard.

“Ah, ya,” he said. “I want one.” Then he turned and glared at Ricky. “What the fuck is it to you?”

Ricky raised his hands as if surrendering. “Nothing man,” Ricky said. “I rode up here to find my kid. It’s a long story, but he might be in trouble.”

“All the kids around here are in trouble,” security said and stepped back from Rick, sorta checking himself for combat.

“I’m not a cop,” Ricky said. “Just looking for my kid, before it’s too late.”

“They train the new ones downtown at the strip club,” security said and kept his distance, looking around for a sting crew. “It’s at Gare’s Circle on the corner, the Déjà Vu Club.”

“Thanks,” Ricky said and made his way quickly to his motorcycle, straddled it, pulled on his helmet and gloves, nodded to the guard and fired it to life. It sounded like a locomotive cranking up to get underway in the dry, dark air.

“Which way,” Ricky shouted and the security guard pointed. Ricky’s Dyna disappeared in the night.

Nearing midnight, he rapidly rolled into the historic downtown Bakersfield area and found himself surrounded by the glittering lights of a strip club on the busy corner. It seemed odd, but he jammed around the block to look for bicycles and kids. He found the bikes out back in a dank alley.

He pulled around front and parked across the intersection quickly and hung his helmet on the handlebars. Making his way across the busy intersection he found the front door where a security guard checked over the short soldier in camo and allowed him entrance.

Once inside, the massive layout of the joint hit him, disco-balls glimmering over several stages, girls on every platform doing their thing with polished brass poles. The crowded joint distracted him, but suddenly he focused on the flashing lights and a small troop of kids moving from table to table, selling something.

He also noticed a big rough-looking bearded fucker heading his way. He looked to be Iranian. It was then that he spotted a kid showing another youngster his stash of small zip-lock bags of meth. The kid seemed about the right stature. As the music blared, the vibrating lights did their thing to the stages, waitresses slipped from table to table delivering drinks and taking orders, Ricky hollered. “Don.”

The kid jerked and looked over his shoulder to the stout soldier-looking man on the other side of the stage. The kid saw Ricky, then the girl on the stage moving to the beat of Sly and the Family Stone. She was amazing, nearly nude and her out-thrust boobs would stop a train. Ricky, also mesmerized by her shape, size and glistening smile was sidetracked. She enjoyed her trance on men as much as the patrons did and made eye contact with Ricky standing behind the tables.

Suddenly, an open hand smacked Ricky’s chest and the boss, who’d been alerted by security back at the Pot Shop, confronted Ricky, who immediately stepped back with one leg and spun to dislodge the attack. He moved to the side of the attacker and looked for Don across the room.

The diversion afforded the bearded-one a jab to Ricky’s solar plexus. Ricky buckled and the big guy yanked him toward the door. With a sweeping arm, Ricky motioned for Don to follow and hoped for the best.

Little Don shoved the goods back into the hands of his trainer and bolted around the stage as police charged in the front doors and shouted. “This is a raid!”

Officer Fernandez jammed in behind them followed by anxious uniforms. The bearded-one stood bolt upright, let go of Ricky as the kid came to his side. The tough guy bolted for an exit but was nabbed by a uniformed officer.

Little Don wrapped his arm around Ricky’s pumped bicep as officer Fernandez grabbed his other arm and looked at the kid. “So, you found your dad. He’s been looking for you all day.”

Ricky regained his breath, stood upright, nodded to the officer and looked down at Don. “Wanna ride to Hollywood?”

“Fuck yeah,” Don said.

“Watch your language, kid,” Ricky said and put his arm around him as they bolted out the flashy front doors.

Illustrations by Wayfarer

Are you ready for the SS Takeover in Los Angeles! We’re bringing the Slings out with trophies for all categories! Come out and shine with us at Brookside Park on Nov. 29, 10 am – 4 pm! We’re rolling with an evening ride through Hollywood, DTLA, and Beverly Hills!

We Break all the Rules!

I’m trying to make a list of crates, if I’m ordered pack up my shop and move it to Deadwood. It’s one of those daunting tasks. I love this building, but not LA or California anymore. Got to get outta Dodge.

I started to mess with the FXR. I was going to send the Spitfire girder to Paughco to have it checked. The other one we had broke. Makes you sorta edgy about riding it. Check the News for everything new and hot in the industry.

Ride fast and free forever!

–Bandit

The Bikernet Weekly News is sponsored in part by companies who also dig Freedom including: Cycle Source Magazine, the MRF, Las Vegas Bikefest, Iron Trader News, ChopperTown, BorntoRide.com and the Sturgis Motorcycle Museum. Most recently Quick Throttle Magazine came on board.

CLICK HERE to read the News on Bikernet.

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INDIAN MOTORCYCLE AND S&S CYCLE TO RACE AT INAUGURAL
‘KING OF THE BAGGERS’ INVITATIONAL AT LAGUNA SECA

Armed with the Indian Challenge & Piloted by Road Racing Champion Tyler O’Hara, Indian & S&S
Take on An Entire Field of Harley-Davidsons

MINNEAPOLIS (July 13, 2020) – Indian Motorcycle, America’s First Motorcycle Company, and S&S Cycle today announced a collaboration to race an Indian Challenger at the inaugural Drag Specialties King of the Baggers invitational at Laguna Seca Raceway. The modified Indian Challenger will be piloted by the highly-decorated racing champion Tyler O’Hara.

Among the 14 teams invited to the first-ever King of the Baggers race, S&S is the only Indian Challenger entry. Set to face off against a field of 13 Harley-Davidson baggers, the appropriately-named Indian Challenger boasts superior out-of-the-box performance, including a best-in-class 122 horsepower, an inverted front suspension, and a hydraulically-adjustable FOX® rear shock.

“When the Indian Challenger was released last October, it set a new standard for performance-oriented, stock baggers and offers the ideal platform, from which to base our race modifications,” said Paul Langely of S&S. “That said, we’re leaving no stone unturned when evaluating the modifications needed to be successful at Laguna Seca.”

At the helm of the S&S-modified Indian Challenger will be road racing veteran Tyler O’Hara. A highly-decorated, and seasoned rider, O’Hara brings a diverse racing background – having won titles in supersport, supermoto, motocross and flat track racing. O’Hara also brings significant experience at Laguna Seca.

“I’m thrilled to not only be racing in the King of the Baggers event, but to be piloting the only Indian Challenger in the field. It’s an incredible opportunity for me, and I expect it will be a ton of fun,” said O’Hara. “The Challenger is a remarkable machine in its stock form, but I know the S&S team will be working its magic to give us the best chance to be successful come race day.”

“Just like the rest of the racing community and motorcycle industry, we cannot wait to see 14 baggers ripping around Laguna Seca,” said Gary Gray, Vice President – Racing, Technology and Service for Indian Motorcycle. “That said, we’re extremely proud to be the lone Indian Motorcycle in the field, partnering with our friends, the elite innovators at S&S.”

The King of the Baggers event will be part of the MotoAmerica Superbike Speedfest at Monterey on October 23-25. The inaugural race will join the premier MotoAmerica Superbike, Supersport, Liqui Moly Junior Cup, Stock 1000, Twins Cup and Heritage Cup racing.

Facing a field of nothing but Harley-Davidsons, King of the Baggers serves up a compelling extension of Indian Motorcycle’s Challenger Challenge program, a mobile demo tour and dealer test ride program that encourages motorcyclists to test ride the Indian Challenger, head-to-head against the Harley-Davidson® Road Glide® Special.

“We’ve seen incredible consumer response to the superior features and benefits of the Challenger when compared directly against the Road Glide,” said Gray. “King of the Baggers takes that comparison to an entirely different level, as we face off against the field at Laguna Seca.”

For more information and ticketing for the Drag Specialties King of the Baggers, visit MotoAmerica.com. Learn more about S&S Cycle at SSCycle.com, and Indian Motorcycle at IndianMotorcycle.com, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

YouTube Videos:

• Bike introduction
• Testing

2021 Show and Race Announcement

Flat Out and Mama Tried fans!!

We’ll get right to the point, we as a team we have decided that February of 2021 for the rescheduled Show/Race is just too soon. Wisconsin will not be ready for that. And we don’t want to get everyone stoked and start making travel arrangements for another “maybe”.

So, we are going to push the Show and Races to the December 3rd/4th/5th 2021 weekend. We know it’s not in our usual winter/February time frame, but since not much is normal anymore AND that’s the soonest we could get a slot at the Fiserv Forum for Flat Out Friday Racing, December 3rd/4th/5th 2021 it is.

We’ve all been through a lot this year. So hang on a little longer for us. We will be working on some interim fun stuff for this spring and summer, some small events to stay active and keep the love of bikes flowing. As we’re sure all of you will be too. Everyone has had lots of time and looks like we’ll have plenty more, to contemplate what the future can look like. So stay in touch with your builds and rides and backyard project dreams, and we will do the same.

We love you all!!! Thanks for sticking with us. We promise that when we can have a real in-person/analog show again that it will not disappoint.

Thanks again. Take care of your loved ones and see you in 2021!

The Mama Tried and Flat Out Friday Family

CALLING ALL FEMALE RIDERS!

We’re back for another round and expanding the Build. Train. Race Program into the world of Road Racing! We’re ready to hit the asphalt and bring a whole new crew of women road racers to the sport. If you’re a female who is interested in learning how to road race and willing to give 100% commitment, this is for you!

Think you have what it takes? We want to hear from you!

Royal Enfield North America announced today its phase two of the BUILD TRAIN RACE (BTR) program which will now seek out female motorcyclists to go road racing with the Royal Enfield Continental GT 650. Similar to the flat track BUILD TRAIN RACE four women will be handpicked by Royal Enfield for this iteration of the program through a video selection process. Women interested in the program must submit a video questionnaire here to be considered.

Professional Road Racer and current BTR Flat Track Participant Melissa Paris has agreed to mentor the women during every phase of the program. She will work with each participant on creating a design for their builds, building sponsorship decks, and training off and on the track.

“Building upon the success of the initial BUILD TRAIN RACE program, we decided to carry the momentum into the road racing segment, ” said Royal Enfield Americas Head of Marketing Breeann Poland. “This is a unique opportunity for women interested in getting into road racing and to make a name for themselves in a national racing program. Working with a world class racer like Melissa Paris is not an opportunity that comes along often. The ladies will also be some of the first people to road race the Continental GT 650 platform, so the motorcycling world will be watching.”

The participants will be chosen by a panel of judges which includes Breeann Poland, Head of Marketing – Americas, veteran road racer and flat track BTR participant Melissa Paris and accomplished racer and journalist Anne Roberts. The selected participants will then have several months and a small budget to convert a Continental GT 650 Twin into road racing trim. Paris will provide valuable insights during the build process.

CLICK HERE TO APPLY NOW AT ROYAL ENFIELD.

 

Although smaller than normal, due to the COVID-19 threat, the rescheduled NCOM Convention held Oct. 16-18 in Indianapolis succeeded in “being here for those dedicated Freedom Fighters who were determined enough to brave a deadly health crisis to be here for each other,” explained a masked NCOM Chairman James “Doc” Reichenbach.

Legal and legislative seminars and roundtables were socially distanced but fairly well attended, considering the dire circumstances, and seats at the dinner tables were mostly filled for the Silver Spoke Awards Banquet to honor bikers’ rights activists such as author and filmmaker John E. (Black Dragon) Bunch II (ENTERTAINMENT); Jad Breiner – Sons of Silence MC, editor of Brothers Behind Bars (BBB) Newsletter (MEDIA); Pete Leehey – AIM Attorney, Iowa (LEGAL); with SPECIAL RECOGNITION AWARDS going to Nancy Nemecek and Fred “Sarge” Matthews, and NCOM’s RON ROLOFF LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD presented to John Bilotta Jr., Operations Director for ABATE of Virginia.

CALIFORNIA BECOMES FIRST STATE TO BAN GAS-POWERED VEHICLES

Governor Gavin Newsom (D) announced that he will “aggressively move California further away from its reliance on climate change-causing fossil fuels” by issuing an executive order on September 23rd mandating that all new passenger vehicles be zero-emission by 2035.

His historic action will require all passenger vehicle manufacturers to shun internal combustion engines and fully electrify their line-up, meaning that manufacturers that wish to continue to sell in the Golden State will only be allowed to sell new electric cars and trucks after the deadline.

Motorcycles are not included in the definition of “passenger vehicles,” but the order does contain a clause to achieve “100 percent zero-emission from off-road vehicles and equipment operations in the State by 2035,” which would presumably include all new ATVs and dirt bikes.

The executive order only applies to the sale of new vehicles and will not prevent Californians from owning gas-burning automobiles or selling them on the used car market.

ATVs GET APPROVAL FOR USE ON CITY’S STREETS

Off-road tourism got a boost with news that a city has opened its streets to side-by-side and ATV traffic.  In central Wisconsin, the Tomah Police Department reports on its Facebook that “ATV/UTV routes within the City of Tomah are now legally opened for operation and use.  Now that all City of Tomah signage is erected, streets within the City of Tomah are now legally opened for ATV/UTV traffic.”

Some key points related to ATV/UTV operation within the City of Tomah, WI:

– Unless otherwise posted, the routes within the City of Tomah include all roads with a speed limit of 35mph or less;

– ATVs and UTVs may only be operated on approved routes from 6am – 10pm;

– Operators must be 16 or older and possess a valid license and proof of insurance;

– All other state statutes related to the use and operation of an ATV/UTV are applicable.

  

The Texas biker may have deserved a speeding ticket, but he didn’t think the traffic stop warranted the questioning, roadside investigation, pat-down search, or enduring an hour of detainment along the roadway waiting for a drug-sniffing dog to arrive on the scene; resulting in inconvenience and embarrassment because a law enforcement officer had guessed wrong.

Statistically, police are terrible at determining which motorists are worthy of being detained and searched, often relying on signs of a driver’s deception such as twitching, fidgeting or lack of eye-contact, all of which research long has debunked as signals of lying.

“There are no nonverbal and verbal cues uniquely related to deceit,” a 2011 review of deception research concluded, while a 2005 study of Texas police found officers performed barely above random chance in being able to discern a person telling the truth from a liar.

Texas police performed just under a million searches during traffic stops last year, according to figures reported to the Texas Commission on Law Enforcement, and though “hit rates” vary by department, only about 1 in 5 resulted in contraband being found.  Yet Texas law enforcement agencies seized about $50 million in forfeited funds in each of the past five years; with proceeds split between police and prosecutors and used to fund more searches.

Police once needed probable cause that a crime was occurring to investigate motorists during a stop.  But in 1968, the U.S. Supreme Court allowed brief stops based on a lower standard of “reasonable suspicion” of wrongdoing.  A later decision clarified that if the officer can’t specify why he suspects a crime is afoot, a traffic stop may last only long enough to check the driver’s paperwork and write a ticket or warning.

Most recent national analyses of traffic stops have focused on the disproportionate rate of police searches of Black and Hispanic motorists, though a federal measure currently under consideration in Congress could add motorcycle riders to that profiling study group.

And so this biker was relieved to finally be allowed on his way with just a ticket, but knew it wasn’t right and figured his motorcycle club vest must have raised the officer’s suspicions.

Innocent people rarely protest meritless searches, so finding an attorney to take his case was difficult.  The overwhelming number of legal challenges occur in suppression hearings, when an officer’s suspicions were correct; contraband was discovered and the defendant seeks to have the evidence tossed on procedural grounds.

With the help of an Austin attorney who represents motorcyclists, the angry biker filed a lawsuit against the Texas trooper in early 2019.  Soon after reviewing the dashcam video, lawyers for the Texas attorney general’s office said they were ready to settle.

BLACK MOTORCYCLE CLUB SUES COUNTY OVER EVENT CANCELLATION

The East Bay Dragons, founded in the 1950s as the first all-Black motorcycle club to exist in California’s Bay Area, has filed a federal lawsuit against Solano County alleging they concocted a reason to cancel a planned club event at the fairgrounds after hearing that one of the club’s members had an association with the Black Panthers.

Still in its early stages, the suit claims that the Dragons planned a 60th anniversary event at the Solano County Fairgrounds in Vallejo, but the event was canceled at the last minute, after the Dragons had spent thousands in fees and planning.

According to the lawsuit, the trouble for the planned August 2019 event started when a county employee learned that a member of the Dragons owned a bakery in Oakland, proudly located at the site of the Black Panthers’ first headquarters

The suit claims all of this was a problem for the county employee, who allegedly remarked that the Black Panthers were “the greatest threat to the internal security of the country,” and started working to cancel the Dragons’ event.  As a result of this, the suit alleges, fairgrounds staff invented the ruse that there was a credible threat to the safety of the event, “but there was no credible threat at all.”

“This insidious belief of EBD’s threat traveled all the way to Oakland and with the help of the Oakland Police Department, at the conclusion of the 60th anniversary celebration on September 2, 2019, the EBD were surrounded by Oakland Police Department officers due to racist motives,” the civil complaint says.

In East Oakland, the biker club is beloved, says Councilman Larry Reid, who said their clubhouse in his district has distributed food on Thanksgivings and toy drives during Christmas.

  

A mechanic at a Harley-Davidson dealership in England has received over £60k ($77,665 USD) settlement after being left unable to work due to “motorcycle phobia” sustained in a work-related accident with an at-fault car whose driver admitted liability.

The mechanic was road testing a customer’s bike at the time of the crash, resulting in physical and psychiatric injuries, including a newfound fear of riding the motorcycles he had to work on, rendering him unable to continue doing the job he loved.

MOTORCYCLISTS ‘A DANGER TO THEMSELVES’ SAYS TRANSPORTATION REPORT

A transport consultation released by the Oxford County Council has branded motorcyclists as pollution emitting liabilities to safety.  The paper outlines transport and connectivity plans, which are clearly biased against motorcycle riding, and goes to great lengths to champion bicycles, walking and public transportation.

Rather than just side with pedal power and walking, the public document goes on to set a worrisome precedent by labeling motorcycles and their riders as dangerous polluters; Just two of the anti-motorcycle statements read: “Statistical evidence suggests motorcyclists are a danger to themselves” and “Motorbikes are mostly still using fossil fuels to run, meaning they are environmentally unsound, not sustainable, and contribute to air pollution.”

BRITISH MOTORCYCLE RACER RECOGNIZED BY THE QUEEN

TT champion Ryan Farquhar, one of the world’s most esteemed and successful motorcycle road racers, was awarded a BEM (British Empire Medal) in the Queen’s Birthday Honours List.

The Northern Irishman received the award for his “Services to Motorcycling” over a career that has seen him secure three Isle of Man TT wins, five North West 200 victories and nine Ulster Grand Prix triumphs, clinching an incredible total of 357 road race victories.

Farquhar says he was completely taken aback by the news of his award, saying it is “very special” to have his achievements recognized in such a high-profile manner outside of the sport itself.  “I never ever dreamed I would receive an accolade like this.  Motorcycle racing in general, and particularly road racing, doesn’t generally get the recognition of other sports.”

  

Following a meeting of the MIC (Motorcycle Industry Council) Board of Directors, the difficult decision was made to postpone the 2021 AIMExpo, the industry’s annual trade show, to 2022 due to COVID-19 directives “limiting gathering size, travel restrictions, and a myriad of other obstacles created by the pandemic, there are too many unknown factors limiting our ability to create a safe environment that will also deliver the experience and ROI our exhibitors and attendees expect.”

QUOTABLE QUOTE: “The best way to predict the future is to create it.”