'WHEELS AND WAVES': THE RIDE, PROPER ~ Motorcycle Fashions

Fun on the Bay of Biscay...

Seventy old motorcycles and half a dozen classic sports cars crowded the parking lot for 'Les Cent Marches', so named for the number of steps down the cliff to the beach. In other words, a little open air café bar next to a big parking lot, with a killer view. Way back in 2009, a dozen of us, Southsiders and sun-seekers (like me), gathered here to start the first of the Southsiders gatherings. Four years later, 8 times that number crowd the neighborhood, surely the measure of success for a Good Idea.

Lalo, Conrad, Pablo, Diavel

We'd come from literally all over the globe; Bike Exif's Chris Hunter from New Zealand, myself and Johnathan 'Death Traps MC' from the US, a whole phalanx from the UK, Spain, Holland, Belgium, other parts of France, Greece... but nobody from Asia, Africa, or South America. But that might change. As I looked over the exotically painted bikes and the predominantly young crowd during the Friday art/bike/car show, it seemed to me a bomb dropped on Chateau de Brindos that day would significantly lower the global Cool quotient. Vintage bike collectors, one-make owners clubs, and big Historic Vehicle organizations like FIVA all cry into their glasses of Chenin Blanc at the members-only bar...where are the young people? Who will inherit our passion for old vehicles? The answer was there at Biarritz this weekend.

Waiting at the bottom of the hill, after a super-hot slalom down the mountain

Here's a message to all vintage vehicle clubs and new motorcycle manufacturers whose sales are falling through the floor. You didn't come to the party, because you weren't interested or didn't think you were invited, but the answer to your question was there, and it doesn't look like you pictured... but then, the future never does. Those scruffy kids with the weirdly painted, cheaply modified bikes? They're you, thirty or fifty years ago. You just forgot what you looked like back then, what was important to you, who your friends were, what you liked to do. You forgot that you were broke, and two wheels were cheap, and fun, and sexy. And that a motorcycle, ridden regularly, is a pretty good Bullshit Detector, and club rules/rivet counters/irrelevant new bikes set off the alarm, big time.

Magazines with a finger on the pulse, like Intersection, Riders (Italy), Bike Exif, The Vintagent, Sideburn, and DiCE, showed up, brought photographers, took notes, and talked to the bikers, and each other. This was billed as a party, but was secretly a convention of the most creative people in Motorcycling today. There are plenty more of course, as other 'off-piste' events around the globe prove, but enough of them were present to fulfill a quorum. And the tally is in; the beating heart of motorcycling is Riding...everything else is something else.

Many, many thanks to Vincent Prat and the Southsiders M.C. for organizing the party. And thanks too for everyone who brought art and cars and bikes, everyone who went riding with us, everyone who came to check out the scene. I think everyone would agree, it was delirious, bacchanalian, epic.

The man in charge, Vincent Prat...many thanks mon amis!

Fantastic BSA A10 Scrambler

Sideburn's Ben Part with an amazing 'colorblind test' paint scheme

A Blitz machine in its element

Torn jeans, dirt stains, bloody knuckles...riding the Wall of Death isn't easy

Maxwell Paternoster's BSA B33, deceptively fast with tasty Gold Star bits inside! Ridden with considerable verve and confidence, I dub thee an exemplary Vintagent, and Knight of the Order of the Rigid Street Racer. Hats off!

The policeman had just pulled up beside me, rolled down his window, and began shouting in Espanol...to which I replied (semi-truthfully), 'I don't speak Spanish!'. At which point, he shrugged gallicly, rolled up his window and rolled forward...and Johnathan popped a wheelie in salute.

Serious business at the bumper car ride...

Christophe Cantirot of Toulouse...

This gent inherited his Commando from his father, and recently got it running again, and painted. Rightfully proud.

After blasting morning sun, blessed fog on the mountaintop, and a cool lunch

I'll have one of those, please. Gorgeous Godet Egli-Vincent...with electric start and good brakes.

The green hills of Spain, where the rain falls, mainly

Fabulously bizarrely fabulous...and, why not?

Mysterious mid-fog appartion; a lovely restored ca.'41 Indian 4-cylinder...

Sideburn's Gary Inman waits for the barrier to rise...on his flat-track Royal Enfield, previously seen at the Ace Café

Nice mix...

I don't know what it means, or that it means anything, but it's funny, and he rides the heck out of it.

Fantastic original-paint '38 HD Knucklehead, assembled from boxes, and missing parts sourced with appropriate patina. The European-spec HDs came in olive green, unless otherwise ordered.