Runnin' on the River

LAUGHLIN -- Amid the roar and rumble from hundreds of gleaming, gurgling Harley-Davidsons revving in the Laughlin Golden Nugget parking lot was a barely audible announcement from an overmatched public address system:

"Will the owner of a red Harley-Davidson, California license plate number (VAROOOOM-BUM-BUM!) ... illegally parked (VAROOOM-BUM-BUM!) ... please move immediately (VAROOOOM-BUM-BUM!)."

Fat chance that motorcycle owner ever heard the notice. On this weekend, during the 17th Annual Laughlin River Run, the bikers owned not only the roadways but the airways as well.

By every definition of the word, the four-day event was loud. And even with wet and windy weather that, applying the vernacular of the crowd, "sucked," the event drew approximately 55,000 bikers from around the country and filled more than 11,000 Laughlin hotel rooms.

The appeal of the River Run, the largest such rally west of the Mississippi River, is evident in its ever-growing attendance. The first River Run, in 1983, drew a little more than 400 bikers.

At this year's River Run, there were that many merchandise booths. The total attendance marked an all-time River Run record, according to event organizers.

"It's something that can grow on you, a subculture that is really kind of addictive once you become wrapped up in it," said Charles Gooding, a leather-vested certified public accountant from San Diego who road in on a 1997 Harley-Davidson XLH Sportster 1200. "It's like any other passion, like being a Trekker or Deadhead, except that it's a lot louder and a lot more expensive."

New Harleys range in cost from $6,500 to $21,000. Custom work, favored by nearly every Harley owner, can push the bike's worth to more than $50,000. With scant exceptions, each is remarkably well-conditioned and pristine, even during a rain-peppered rally such as Laughlin's.

"One thing we have in common is pride," Gooding said. "No matter what kind of owner you are, you keep your bike in tip-top condition. It's a real source of pride."

The event drew predominantly Harley-Davidson owners ranging from "outlaw" bikers such as the Hells Angels to suburban CPAs, derisively referred to by true bikers as "yuppie scum."

Gooding conceded he's in the latter class.

"During the week I'm a normal guy with a normal career," he said. "I don't wear my leathers to work. I have a routine job, and this gives me a chance to spread my wings a little, so to speak."

Gooding is far from alone. Along with their love of bikes, riders who were in attendance are fierce defenders of freedom -- abhorring helmet laws and gritting their teeth at law enforcement -- and represent some of the most colorful lifestyles in the land.

With apologies to Gladys Knight

No River Run would be complete without gratuitous nudity, a topic we undress (er, address) only in the interest of painting a complete picture of a time-tested River Run tradition.

Yes, it is true that male River Run revelers carry around signs reading something similar to "Show us your pips!" They shout similar requests to women riding bikes or leaning over hotel balconies.

In many cases, the women are happy to comply.

"It's innocent fun," said Marci Lincoln, who rode in on the back of her boyfriend's Harley from Flagstaff, Ariz. "It's not like we're having live sex shows or anything."

Lincoln was among the half-dozen women baring their bodies from a fourth-floor Colorado Belle balcony. It was quite a scene, as Stevie Ray Vaughan tribute artist Chris Hiatt belted out a note-perfect version of "Love Struck Baby" from the Edgewater event pavilion below, while the cheering crowd gawked up at the amateur performance artists and ignored the music.

"We're more popular than the Stevie Ray guy," Lincoln said. "We're not getting paid, either."

Sharp mind

Tony Dardano is into sharp objects. He's a retailer of knives, machetes, daggers and all sorts of honed weaponry who owns a business in Loveland, Colo.

"This is my first time here," Dardano said. "I kind of don't know what to expect."

He likely didn't anticipate light but persistent rain throughout the day, which dampened business and threatened to send Dardano home with boxes of unsold inventory. So he panicked, setting up an impromptu bargain-basement sale:

"Any and all knives, $15!" he called out. "Anything on the table is marked down to $15!"

That did the trick, as bikers within earshot meandered over to snap up shiny foot-long knives suitable for filleting a fish (or a fellow human being) that normally sell for around $80.

"It's wild," Dardano said. "People like to collect knives just like they collect coins or stamps. The bikers just happen to like knives and buy this stuff."

They buy a lot of stuff, including chrome accessories, silk bandanas, leather jackets, chaps and hats; Harley-Davidson T-shirts; spike-studded leather sandals (no joke); and even a leather-clad Harley-Davidson beanie baby retailing for $10.

"I had a guy tell me there are 12 manufacturers of heads for Harleys, just the heads, in this country," Dardano said. "That's incredible."

Ghosts at the machines

With clusters of bikers cruising up and down Casino Drive, gaming activity at area casinos was relatively calm.

"They normally don't do too much gaming," said Edgewater Slot Director Lon O'Donnell. "We make most of our money on rooms, food and beverage sales."

O'Donnell said that when bikers hit the casino, they do so en masse and steer clear of slots or video poker machines.

"They'll play the pits because they like hanging out with their friends and doing things together," O'Donnell said. "They'll play blackjack or roulette. They're not the types who would sit at a video poker machine and pass time. The only machines they'll really play are the ones we have that give away a Harley (as a jackpot prize). They like that one."

Jeff Roberts is such a player.

"I'm not much into the slots," said the Harley owner from Portland, Ore., reeling from a $40 setback at an Edgweater blackjack table. "The only machine I'm into is parked out here in the parking lot. I'm heading for it now."

Mary Kay's place

Entered in the sprawling custom bike show in the Ramada Express parking lot were a cavalcade of bikes in all shapes, sizes and color patterns. There were purple flames, bright orange gas tanks and curvy patterns in florescent green and jet black.

But there was only one hot-pink, customized 1997 Harley-Davidson Dyna Lowrider bearing the license plate "Mary Kay."

The bike belongs to Mary Kay Scholz, a 29-year-old Harley owner who rode down from Reno.

Scholz's machine was among hundreds entered in nine classes, being evaluated subjectively by six judges in 10 categories, including paint, chrome work, leather and originality. A total of $5,000 in merchandise was awarded.

But Scholz wasn't concerned with winning any prizes. For her, the River Run was a place to be seen.

"It's my first time here and I've had a great time," said Scholz, who works for her father's aircraft hardware company and has spent more than $30,000 on her bike. "It's a fun hobby, a great diversion and a way to get attention. When I ride around Reno, it's a great show-stopper."

Women have been accepted into what was once a predominately male-dominated universe.

"I think men get into it, they think it's sexy," Scholz said. "I get a lot of comments to that effect. It used to be that women were just on the back of their boyfriends' or husbands' bikes. Not anymore."

Hells Angels update

How does one approach a Hells Angel for a newspaper interview?

Very carefully.

Members of the sinister bike organization were actually in fairly pleasant spirits during the River Run, in part because they were trying to sell stuff under their less-menacing trademark, "Red and White."

On display at a vendor's tent were Hells Angels-marketed Red and White shirts, body suits, caps and bandanas.

"Business is going well," said one member who declined to give his name. "It'd be going a lot better if it wasn't raining."

While no Hells Angel is willing to speak on the record, one fifty-something member did say the group has been treated "OK" by the general public and law enforcement during this year's River Run.

"We've been hassled, but no more than we usually are," he said. "We get hassled no matter where we go or what we do."

Then the Hells Angel looked over a reporter's business card and asked, "Do you guys have a website?"

When told, "yes," he nodded and walked off.

Of ink and biceps

If there were a Tattoo Hall of Fame, the winner of the Laughlin River Run contest would be an automatic inductee. This year, the victor was 32-year-old Ed Buhain of Anaheim, Calif.

"This is a real kick," Buhain said between hugs and handshakes in the Edgewater events pavilion. "I had some stiff competition. I'm honored."

Buhain prevailed in a contest that awarded first-place prizes for "Best Arm," "Best Chest Piece," "Best Back" and "Best Overall Tattoo."

The competition had its more obtuse moments. A woman who claimed the second- place award in the "Best Overall" competition collected her trophy and was immediately given a bear hug by a person who acted like her boyfriend.

Then she was given a big, sloppy kiss by a female companion who also acted like her boyfriend.

Standing nearby, eyebrows raised, O'Donnell said, "Did I just see what I thought I just saw?"

He did.

Next up was Buhain, who wowed the four-person panel of judges with a wild array of body art. Pictured on the left side of his chest is a woman who resembles Elizabeth Taylor but is actually Buhain's mother.

Opposite is a portrait of two women greatly enjoying each other's company. On his back is yet another pair of women greatly enjoying each other's company.

However, most of the potentially offending artwork is obscured by swirling, intricate, obscure images. Buhain had the bulk of his work done at a studio called Outer Limits in Anaheim, and has grown accustomed to shedding his shirt and posing for photos.

"I did this one shoot for Outer Limits and it was really tough," he said. "They had me do a submissive pose."

Submissive? Details, please.

"I was hanging from the ceiling with chains around my wrists," he said. "My feet were dangling. I was up there for a half hour. I was sore for two weeks."

But the pain and inconvenience of posing for pictures paid off in Laughlin. Buhain was given a heavy metal trophy of an eagle and $100 in gaming chips.

"I'm leaving with more than I came with," Buhain said. "I guess this is my 15 minutes of fame."

The Reich stuff

Not all riders were as affable as Buhain, however. Take 20-year-old Levi Phillips.

Please.

Phillips, a resident of the fortuitous town of Kingman, Ariz., wore a T-shirt bearing a red "SS" insignia once favored by the elite arm of the Nazi militia.

So what's the deal, Mein Fuehrer?

"Part of it's because I'm part German and am interested in that part of my heritage," Phillips said. "But I'm partially racist. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."

Phillips rides a 1966 Harley Sportster and has poured $8,000 into his machine. He expects to at least double the investment.

"I won't ride anything from 1973-up," Phillips said. "I only like the vintage bikes. The new ones, I hate."

Among other things.

Rod, Karl and Dusty

It's not always wise to trust the list of celebrities listed in information packets promoting events such as the River Run. The list of "sports celebrities" expected to attend included Chicago Cubs pitcher Rod Beck, Utah Jazz forward Karl Malone and San Francisco Giants manager Dusty Baker.

The list, fortunately, was deemed "tentative." All sports celebrities were involved in games coinciding with the River Run.

Beck and the Cubs played in Chicago against the New York Mets on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Baker and the Giants were in San Francisco taking on the Colorado Rockies from Thursday through Sunday. Malone's Jazz were busy battling the Portland Trail Blazers on Friday and the Seattle SuperSonics on Sunday, both in Salt Lake City.

Naturally, none found the time to head to Laughlin.

Too bad. They missed a rip-roaring time.

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