God Bless the Biker
This tune is about two-thirds true. I'd left Minneapolis for San Francisco in mid October. After a stop in Western Nebraska I lit out for a one-day shot to Salt Lake City. Mighty cold that night, brothers and sisters, mighty cold. This is what the bike looked like then:
That's right, a 350 Honda. I'd owned that TR6 you see at the top right but, what with the Lucas electronics and Witworth threads -- and, despite rumors to the contrary, a different bolt-head as well -- I figured I wanted a new machine when sometimes I'd literally be eighty miles from the nearest gas station. Triumphs were at a premium then so I actually made a profit. Bought the new machine at Powell's Alameda Honda with my PG&E money and put 5000 on it the first year.
One teensy, weensy little problem. Someone forgot to put the lock-tab down on the front brake bracket which nearly caused a disaster in Oregon.
Note: Riding back from SF I met a couple of bikers who'd take a yearly trip to the "Lost City of Atlanta" Idaho. Showed me pictures. Some folks still wore guns. (Right, this was back a ways). Last night the town toasted the bikers with their machines right up on the bar. Midwest guys. If you know `em say hi.
God Bless the Biker - Lyrics
© Joe Muldoon
It’s a Colorado highway late on Christmas Eve. Weaving through the darkness, one lonely biker with bells on his bars, presents in his packs, and hope in his heart is trying to make it home before the kids wake up. High above the Rockies, the Angels look down and wish him nothing but the best. And so they sing it out, “God Bless the Biker….”
Ridin’ through the Rocky Mountains on a cold October
It was a white wall there before me, darkness all behind.
The night was bad, the sky was black, the cold was getting colder.
But he drove his car right up to me and took out a ticket book.
Just when I thought that all was lost, a light came in the sky
It had a plow on front to catch the snow, a diamond for a light.
Slowed down, background vocals