My experience with Rolling Thunder 2006

By Jim Brickett

    This was to be my first Rolling Thunder in Washington DC. I happened to be off work for a change when there was a good ride. I was chomping at the bit. Having done 20 yrs in the service I wanted to go pay my respects to the Fallen Veterans and show support for the POW’s and MIA’s.  Plus I was over due for a good ride.

    The night before the ride I mounted a large American flag on my Sportster and shined her up some. I read on an e-mail or at the Bayside Harley site that a group was leaving out at 6 AM from Bayside. I figured if I woke up early I’d be half way to DC by 6 AM and could have a good breakfast. I like to take back roads and stop for coffee and a stretch and a smoke.

    I couldn’t sleep - I felt like a kid at Christmas - I couldn’t wait to go get on the ride and roll. I finally gave up on trying to sleep at 12:30 AM and got my gear together in 10 min I was on the road. The sky was clear the stars bright. The traffic was minimal with the exception of the occasional nut or partier that I steered clear of. Near Richmond I got on Rt 1 and it was an awesome ride. I stopped at a light and saw the most incredible meteorite light up the sky with a big tail and it moved fast across the sky and down to the horizon. I was hooting an howling and then I looked around to make sure no-one was calling to have me committed.

    I rolled by beautiful farms and quiet communities. I stopped and chatted with sleepy gas station attendants (while getting coffee and a smoke) and they seemed to enjoy the diversion and appeared to want to go on the ride.

    I stopped at a Waffle place and the people didn’t pay me any mind and was grateful for the time to reflect on the journey.

    I rode through wispy fog in the country and it looked like something out of a Hitchcock movie - it was awesome how it zoomed toward my head light and then jumped up over my wind screen and seemed to slide across the top of my helmet. I felt odd but refreshing temperature changes going over one hill to the next. It would all of a sudden be 10 degrees cooler and I would almost start to wish I wore a sweatshirt under the leather jacket - then over a hill and it would be 10 degrees warmer and feel almost tropical. My Sportster was purring like a kitten down the hills and roared like a lion when I put it to her up the hills or when there was a break in the fog. The sound she made was soothing yet invigorating. At times my heart raced as I became one with the road and the ride. At times she was held in check where caution and slow speed was required - but she is patient. She is ready.

    As I got to within 30 miles of DC the sky took on an awesome hue - that promised a clear bright sunny day. Birds started stirring and cars started appearing on the road here and there.

    After daylight I came across a Dunken Donuts I saw a few Harleys there and decided to turn around and have a coffee and donut - didn’t need the coffee or grub - just had some - but I felt drawn toward the prospect of meeting fellow riders and seeing where they are out of and where they are headed - I had a hunch - they were headed the same way as me.

   The 2 Harleys were big and beautiful. Their engines were still crackeling - the sound of cooling right after being shut down. (They are kind of saying - “I’m still ready”) The place was empty except for the workers stocking fresh donuts - the aroma was fantastic and should be carried in the breast pocket of the leather jacket. The 2 Riders were obviously vets and had been riding for many years and were anxiously breaking into their donuts and coffee. They had about 6 dozen more on the table next to them - for the riders they were soon to meet up with. They were local and meeting a group at the local Harley Dealer - something going on at a lot of Harley Dealers in a lot of towns that morning and the day before. A girl came in with a new born baby and she said if she could she would like to ride with us. I told her it wouldn’t be long and she could ride when she wanted.

    I wished all a smooth ride and headed off - I was anxious to be in the right place to be ready for the big ride. As I got close to DC the roads were in worse shape but at 7 AM on a Sunday morning the lack of traffic was great for maneuvering around craters. The closer I got the more motorcycles I saw.

    I came up on the Pentagon and that is the staging area. And I saw thousands of bikes on the grounds but the roads were like a maze. I followed a few bikers and they obviously were having the same trouble I was finding the entrance to Pentagon North Parking. I finally asked some Pentagon Police and found a maze to work through to get to the lot. I ended up riding in with about 30 Harleys and one Yamaha.

    When I got to the entrance to the lot - I was dumbstruck. There was a sea of motorcycles and riders. There was more shining chrome than I have ever seen. There were more motorcycles than I had ever seen and as I was to find out - it was just the tip of the iceberg. They rolled in for 4 and ½ more hours in Mass and still came in smaller numbers after that. I noticed everyone was smiling or grinning and all were greeting each other like brothers and sisters meeting at a family reunion. I also noted every one got off their ride stiff and had to stretch out and move around like a tipsy drunk till they got their land legs and loosened up.

    There were an amazing array of rides. A lot of Harleys and a good mix of everything else. Even rides that looked more like 3 wheeled cars than motorcycles. The people looked as varied as their rides too. It looked like a lot of people that would not normally mix and looked to be only a matter of time before some serious fights would break out - but there was nothing but friendly greetings and exchanges of - where you from? What year is that ride? Where did you find that piece or part? The rides were packed in like sardines and you had to walk carefully to not hit a mirror or fender. But everyone was friendly and it felt like a family cookout.

    It was in the 80’s with no where to get out of the sun and it cooked. We had hours to wait till the tribute ride began. Everyone walked around checking out rides and meeting the fellow riders. I was amazed at the mix of people. It was like the proverbial Melting Pot. There were many Vet riders with leather and patches that attested to their Nam or Korean War Service. There were a few from WWII. There were young kids that looked like they were in or fresh out of high school with Metric racers. There were riders from the Renegades and the Hole in The Wall and there was a group of Fire Fighters from NYC and there were Hippies and Yuppies, There were Jocks and Nascar buffs, there were Football nuts, some people looked like professors some were crippled. There was a Latino Club, There were Gay and Lesbian riders, there were people with dogs wearing goggles and hats, there were people with young children on board. I saw a Harley Electra Glide with a wheel chair strapped to the back.

    The riders were from every state imaginable - even some from Canada. The couple next to me on the left rode in from Athens Georgia, the couple on the right rode in from Albany NY. The group of riders in front of me rode in from Greensboro NC. There were bikes worth $100,000.00 and some not worth the powder it would take to blow them up.

    A few times when I saw some people my first thought was they don’t belong here - my next thought was - We all belong here - it is to pay tribute to our fallen Veterans and POW’s and MIA’s and if they are here for that reason then I respect them and feel a bond with them. It moved me to get chocked up more than a few times - even before the ride got close to getting started.

     After cooking in the sun for hours and getting antsy - the reason for being here came to mind and quieted my restlessness. All of a sudden a quiet came over the crowd as a drone was heard in the distance and I saw all the Vets look to the south - as I did searching. And then they came over the Pentagon - the formation of Hueys. It gave me chills. A huge roar of a cheer went up from the riders and we knew it was time to get ready to roll.

    The line of motorcycles started filing out of the lot for the run and it was amazing. A sound like a rolling Thunder over the mountain. They kept rolling out and it took an hour and a half to get to my row.

    What a feeling to be finally rolling and as soon as I cleared the parking lot I was greeted by crowds of people waving flags and cheering and waving and smiling and mouthing Thank You and some crying.

    There were Vets in Wheel Chairs and some on crutches. There were families with young children. There were thousands of people out to see us ride and more importantly to pay tribute to the Vets.

     I was having trouble to keep from busting up. It was so moving. Then I came up on the corner near the Lincoln Memorial there was a Marine in full Dress Uniform with a pair of boots in front of him and a rifle sticking out of them and a helmet on the but of the rifle - the symbol of the fallen soldier that we have come to know and the Marine was standing erect and saluting - perfectly still - erect and solemn. I saluted him and then almost fell off my ride in tears. The rest of the ride was like going though a time machine or into a movie but in a dream and not fully awake. I was fighting tears I was trying to ride safe, I was trying to show respect for all the Vets present and I was trying to take it all in. It went too fast. I still bust out in tears at the thought of it all. They gave so much - so I could live and ride free. So my family can be free. Some gave it all - the ultimate price. I am eternally grateful. I realize I have a duty to never forget. And to try to help others to never forget. The soldier is not dead until he is forgotten.

    I (and maybe we,) need to live in a manner that shows that respect and thanks every day. I (and maybe we, ) need to learn from the Brotherhood, or whatever you want to call it - that brought so many varied people together in such harmony and good spirit for a good cause. Maybe we can learn to be more like that in our daily life. It makes the daily chores and obligations seem more important now. Life is less routine. Life is less a task or chore and more meaningful and beautiful.

    The whole way back home on all the back roads riding with my big American Flag flying in the breeze on the back of my Sportster - people passing in cars or on the side of the road - smiled at me, many waved, some saluted and each time - it choked me up. A few times I had to pull over to get the tears out of my eyes so I could see. A few times I stopped for gas or coffee and met up with fellow riders on the way home. They were not as talkative as usual. They seemed reflective and peaceful - they seemed to be feeling what I was feeling.

    Rolling Thunder wasn’t just a ride, it wasn’t just a tribute to the Vets and the Mia’s and the POW’s - It was a life changing event. It was a wake up call, it was a shakeup call to stop and smell the roses, the honeysuckle and to take note that those around us may be different and may not be just like us - but they may be the next fallen soldier or may have loved a fallen soldier. They may have or may some day - put it all on the line to protect our freedom and give us an opportunity to take that long awaited ride through the mountains or along the ocean or through the plains.

To all that have served - Thank You.

To all those that will serve - Thank You.

To all those that have paid the Ultimate Price - I will have to work at trying to live a life that shows my appreciation and respect and love.

Jim Brickett

A rider.

And most importantly a free American.