Portland H.O.G. Rally

Your webmaster, just before riding to Portland. (Click for full size).

For me, Portland was a last minute deal. Coming barely two weeks after Sturgis, I thought I’d be too road weary to make the trek down from Seattle. In fact, the opposite was true. Sturgis just got me more hyped up. That, the fact that another group of gay Harley bros here in town was going, and the fact that the word was out that the Harley Strokers of Portland had set up formal meeting times for gay Harley guys, made the trip inevitable.

I had an invitation from Randy/Seattle to ride down with his gang Thursday nite, but left on my own Friday morning instead. The weather was perfect. Got going late and pulled into Portland less than an hour before the first Harley Stroker gathering. I managed to find the Dirty Duck Pub (this was my first time in Portland). I was the first one there, and secured a strategic spot for the bike that would guarantee parking for at least 10 others directly in front of the tavern.

Then I walked down the street, got some lunch, and by the time I got back to the Duck, it was hopping with bikers. The Border Riders passed around info on their group. The Harley Stokers passed around a sign up sheet for mailings. And the Great Lakes Harley Riders? Whoops, I suddenly realized that I should be representing our group and I had nothing, not even the GLHR mailing address with me. So I gave out the web page address as I met people. Seems like at least one guy in each faction had web access, so hopefully this covered us.

The gay Harley bikers' rides lined up at the Dirty Duck Pub. (Click for full size).

Rally headquarters (Click for full size).

As it turned out, the Strokers had kept the meeting informal, so guys just mixed on their own. By the time the gathering broke up, everyone had pretty much met everyone. I had not been to the rally headquarters at this point, so I ended up riding up there (to the Portland Raceway), with Ian, a bro from Vancouver. Ian has been a biker since the late sixties, and estimates that he has logged 250,000 miles behind the handlebars, riding across most of North America. He has been to Sturgis no less than 12 times. (He was there this year also with straight buddies, and didn’t hook up with any of the gay contingent.)

At one of the booths at the rally, we met Dave Barr. Dave is a military man who lost both of his legs in an anti-tank mine explosion in Angola. In spite of that fact, he managed to ride his Harley literally around the world, covering each of the continents (except Antarctica), including journeys across the old Soviet Union and Siberia, China, central Africa, and South America. He used two different bikes for his travels, and had them both on display at his booth. Dave is handsome, charismatic, and I couldn’t help but buy his book that documents his riding adventures. (He published it himself, so it’s likely not in bookstores. The info is: Riding the Edge by Dave Barr, ISBN 1-887314-12-1, ProMotion Publishing, San Diego, CA, Phone: 1-800-231-1776) This book looks like a classic.

Friday night I went out to the Portland Eagle, and most of the gay biker crowd was there. Met a couple more bros from Seattle, who had bike trouble and didn’t make the first Stroker meeting.

Saturday, I rode down to the Oregon State fair in Salem with Randy/Seattle, Randy’s boyfriend Mark, and some of the other Seattle crew. Other than some sunburn, we had a great time, and got back to Portland just in time for another gay biker gathering at the Duck. Nobody new showed up, so the crowd quickly broke up to get back out and ride and/or check out bikes and bikers.

Downtown Portland filled with Hawgs. Dan, another gay Harley bro is on right. (Click for full size).

The rally highlight for Saturday was a group ride of a few thousand bikes from the Portland Raceway to the Burnside bridge in downtown Portland, at which point the bridge was closed for Harley parking only. Dan and his boyfriend Duane from Seattle rode in the group and reported that at the outset, a bro on a chopper dropped it on a corner and apparently broke his leg, which delayed the run. I caught up with the event in time to see the closed bridge, lined with thousands of Hogs, in the perfect sunset, with the backdrop of the historic downtown buildings, a truly spectacular sight.

The Burnside bridge in downtown Portland, reserved for Harley parking only. (Click for full size).

Went to the Eagle again Saturday night. Ended up meeting the Publisher of In Uniform magazine, who stepped up to me to introduce himself and his friends. Then, on the way back to the hotel about 1 a.m., I got caught in a downpour and soaked through my leather jacket and chaps, right down to the skin.

By morning, my leathers had dried a little, but the rain continued. I headed out at 11:30 when the sun came out. Ten miles out I was drenched again, and ended up riding most of the 170 miles back to Seattle in pelting rain. When I pulled into home around 4:30, I was soaked, frozen, and starving. Luckily, Chris was home to help me get off the wet leather. He gave me a big wet kiss, a hot bath, and made some dinner. Two hours later I was thinking about the next trip.