Paved With Good Intentions : ‘Outlaw’ Bikers Set Aside Rivalries to Raise Funds for Education Program

The hosts were mostly ex-convicts. The guests were 700 Harley-Davidson riders, many of them members of three rival motorcycle “clubs.” And the beneficiaries were Los Angeles gang members.

It was, by any account, a unique fund-raiser.

But Sunday’s motorcycle Poker Run to benefit the Pacoima-based Ryan Center and its PEACE (Parolees Educating Against a Criminal Environment) Project had a quirky logic to it.

For $10, the bikers, who “live to ride, ride to live” could cruise en masse. The proceeds would go to an educational program run by parolees determined to turn their lives around. And the parolees would use that money to give gang members advice on avoiding a similar fate.

Carlos Olivarez, director of the PEACE Project, figured that the mere sight of a pack of bikers--many of them longtime rivals from motorcycle gangs the Vagos, Hells Angels and Mongols--thundering across the San Fernando Valley side by side might get the message across to young gangbangers.

“If these three can get along. . . .” the hulking ex-convict said, his voice trailing off and eyebrows arching to finish his statement.

Claudia Ryan, director of the Ryan Center and a Harley rider, smiled and said: “They’ve been trying to get along because they’re tired of the police.”

And with the exception of 20 or so members of the Vagos giving one ex-member a little “attitude adjustment” in a restaurant parking lot, the bikers got along just fine. In fact, the day was downright sedate--as these things go.

After picking up their first poker card for fortifying themselves with a civilized breakfast of waffles and fresh strawberries, bagels, doughnuts and coffee at Jetstream Custom Cycles in Van Nuys, the riders headed out in packs of three or five or 25, rousting late sleepers from Studio City to Chatsworth.

At several biker bars and restaurants, they stopped to ogle custom bikes and pick up a new card--the idea being to collect the best hand before arriving at the Stagecoach restaurant in Simi Valley.

For all intents and purposes, the event was simply a great excuse to ride. Bikers came from as far afield as Tijuana and Reno, San Diego and Sacramento, arriving on Fat Boys, Panheads, Sportsters and Softtails.

Sonny Barger, the spiritual leader of the Hells Angels, was there, and other bikers spoke of the man in whispers. “You should get your picture taken with him,” one told another.

George Christie--longtime president of the Angels’ Ventura chapter, businessman, martial arts expert and bearer of the torch during the 1984 Olympic Games--was there, too.

Subtle evidence of the years of animosity surfaced at the Stagecoach as members of the different gangs segregated themselves in a quiet, clannish way. But an awkward effort at camaraderie was more obvious. The green-clad Vagos shook hands with the black-and-white Mongols, who slapped the backs of the red-and-white Angels.

And they all talked bikes.

“This is kinda like an icebreaker,” said a Mongol named Doug, expressing hope that the money they raised would, in the end, help local gangs put aside their differences.