The First Harley Trip, 2014 Part 8: Spring Opener, Niagara Springs

The First Harley Trip, 2014

Part 8: Spring Opener, Niagara Springs

“I am a realist in all aspects of life. I refuse to accept societies set of standards, or morality. As a 1%er, we build a world of our own that very few can grasp.” Breeze,  1%er

For 30 years or more, I heard Hotrod talk story about the Club’s Spring Openers. In his book, From Boy To Biker: My Coming of Age In An Outlaw World,  he talks about his first run riding with the club to Niagara Springs and his first major bike crash while on the road getting there. (Just buy the book, storiesbyhotrod.com)

I really didn't know what to expect for the weekend. In all honesty, I suppose I must admit that some visions of the stereotypical Hollywood hype about wild outlaw motorcycle behavior entered my mind and so, to some extent, even though I knew better, I expected this would be on display for at least some part of the weekend. It never happened.

Niagara Springs State Park is situated along the Snake River deep down in the gorge. The park itself has a large grassy area, about the size of three football fields, surrounded by a tree-lined dirt road that circles the grassy area. In the center are men's and woman's toilet facilities without showers. At one end of the grass, next to the dirt road, is a pavilion that became the weekend's kitchen, bar, and band shell. 

Kitchen, bar, and band-shell

As Hotrod and I pulled into the campground, we circled around on the dirt road and pulled into a spot that would become our camping area for the weekend. For me, I had a new 2 person pup tent (my condominium) that would become home for the next several nights.

My Condminium

BTW, not that miserable micro cocoon of a tent from a week or so before. That miserable excuse got trash-canned somewhere along the way, and not soon enough.  Hotrod and Jodi had their camper to sleep in. Jodi drove their truck with camper shell in from Powell Butte. They were camping in comfort.

For the rest of the day and late into the night, bikes, trucks, and campers kept arriving. Hotrod took me around and introduced me to too many people to remember their names. There were club members, members from other clubs that were invited, family members, and other invited guests.

People were arriving from all different parts of the country. Hotrod’s book, just recently published, was a common topic of discussion. Many of the people I met were subjects in the book; some I had met before and others for the first time. It was exciting to watch the constant flow of arrivals and watch the campground get surrounded by hundreds of Harleys parked on the dirt road that circled the grass.

But what was the best part was seeing the comradery between all of these people. This was a tightly knit group that shared something special. This was a village, a tribe, and a family.

Some of the crew

The next several days was filled with great conversation, meeting new people, good camp-food, and some great live music. One of the club members, Little Roy, provided the musical entertainment, hiring some musicians and he also played several sets with his band.

Live music, all day and all night

The musical quality was outstanding, playing all of the badass classic rock tunes that makes live music so much fun. Hotrod even set up a table to peddle his books.

Hotrod talking with  some guy named, "Dirtbag" while signing and selling his book

Everyone that had already bought and read, or should I say devoured, his book kept on asking when the sequel was coming out? I had one unknown man approach me and asked, “Hey, are you the dude that his ol’ lady bought him a new Softail Duluxe?  …..does she have a sister?” Yes Liz, you make a fine Ol’ Lady!

Marshall and Me

I also got to spend time getting to know Marshall, the rider I met on the road at the Umatilla Reservation. An interesting young man that I could tell had a bright future ahead of him. Another highlight was getting to meet another long-time club member, Ricky Love. I had heard about him over the years and this was the first time I was able to meet him face to face. Ricky Love, as his name implies, has a genuine heart for the wellbeing of his Brothers and their families. It really showed through and made me glad that my brother, Hotrod, has people like him in his life.

Now don’t get me wrong. This was not, as one man stated when he said, “…this ain’t no fuckin’ IBM picnic.” This was a party, a four day party. There was a log cutting contest using an old bucksaw and an old fashion tug-of-war contest. Some of the guys even set up a knife throwing area where some serious shit-talking went down. The bar was open and available to all guests; and the club made sure there was plenty to drink. And, there were biker games. Youtube it if you really want to know.

Log sawing contest

The best part of the whole thing was that I got to see the comradery and genuine brotherhood of the club and I got to watch Hotrod in his element doing what he is great at doing, being Hotrod.

By the fourth morning, the bathrooms were no longer functioning. The toilets were overflowing and unable to flush. I suppose the septic tank was full and needed pumping out. As I mentioned, there were no showers at the campground either. I don’t think I had ever gone four days without taking a shower. I felt like refried shit. Probably smelled like it to. After eating breakfast, I broke camp, packed up Dorothy, and said my goodbyes. My plan was to head north through Idaho into Montana, eventually making my way to Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho. After a few days in Coeur d’ Alene, the plan was to meet up with Hotrod at our dad’s house. I gassed up in Wendell, once again running into Marshall and Butch at the gas station there. It would be two years before I’d see them again at the clubhouse in Portland.

I pointed Dorothy straight north and hit the throttle.