Issue link: https://read.dmtmag.com/i/714189
68 nSeptember 2016n www.thunderpress.net THUNDER PRESS by Anders Carlson MILWAUKEE, WIS., JULY 7–10—There's two things to do with bikes in Chicago: drink beer around them or work on them while drinking beer. Chicago is where taxable income, riding skills and scenic beauty go to die. Fortunately, while it may be cursed by its Illinois location, Chicago is as richly blessed by its proxim- ity to Wisconsin—better beer and Milwaukee, in that order. With escape plans in mind, my friend Chuck and I headed to The Wild Ones Weekend and Knucklehead Company Reunion at the Harley- Davidson Museum on the blessed weekend of July 7–10. Having been a Harley mechanic in Waukegan in the mid-80's, Chuck at once embod- ies everything and nothing Harley. Eschewing branded clothing and gear unless it's free, Chuck lives and breathes The Motor Company though not necessarily when embroidered on $400 jackets. So he's right at home. There were two main draws this weekend: drag bikes and Knuckleheads. While one class of motorcycle can make you see Jesus in less than 10 sec- onds fl at, the other defi nes the majesty of His handiwork over several decades of time. Synergy, eh? The drag-bike exhibit runs through September 5, but today belonged to the 14th annual Knucklehead Company Reunion and The Wild Ones rally. If the bikes themselves weren't enough to look at, they liv- ened up Saturday's festivities further. Scores of Flatheads, Panheads and Ironheads (along with the odd Indian) all returned to their spiritual home to celebrate cheating mechanical death and to give a one-fi ngered salute to Father Time. Though dozens of vin- tage bikes are entered in Saturday's Antique Bike Show, the spirit of competition is best understood when considering the entry fees go to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. Events like this make one wonder what the annual museum budget is for concrete degreaser. With oil stains the size of silver dollar pancakes under each magnifi cent specimen, they marked territory with justifi ed pride. With blue skies above and an early run on High Life tallboys, spirits ran high among the several hundred in atten- dance. When I fi rst visited the museum years ago, I wondered why they had such a huge lawn out front. The rea- son became apparent this year as soon as we arrived, as fi eld games orga- nized by the AMCA Badger Heritage Chapter were in full swing with a wif- fl e ball game of sorts. Riders competed to hit a ball off a tee with a plastic bat. Mind you, they had to pick up the bat, hit the ball as far as possible, then put the bat back in a bucket, all while riding a bike without lowering a foot from the fl oorboards. Bat boys and girls kept the bats in circulation and the balls in play. Techniques varied, with some batting lefty, leaving the throttle hand free. But most opted to go right-handed, feathering the clutch for continued momentum. Someone probably won this event all offi cial- like, but anyone busting a gut watch- ing this with beer in hand was the real winner. Elsewhere on the grounds, the State of Wisconsin Motorcycle Police Unit put on a truly impressive skills clinic. Making a 820-lb. bike pirou- ette through cones mere feet apart with a minimum of scraping is a sight to watch. Given the tragic events of Dallas just days before, their presence came against a backdrop of fl ags at half-staff. If any hard feelings existed between any "Wild Ones" and our boys in blue, you couldn't tell on this day. Hell, "Oily" Olson even let one of the offi cers carve his name in the gas tank of his Knucklehead. Who's "Oily" Olson, you ask? That would be Craig "Oily" Olson, owner of a 1939 Knucklehead with near-perfect paint and fi nish. There are just a few hundred blemishes in the form of names carved by knife into the body, fenders and tank. A man with patina on his jacket to rival that of his bike, Oily's third sentence to me was that I was going to "sign" his bike, too. Having owned his Knuck for over 33 years, his VIP parking refl ected his stature in the Knuck community. After a short conversation, he handed me a knife to get to work. In typical rookie THE WILD ONES WEEKEND Rust and relaxation Welcome home, Knuckleheads Chet Herbert's dragster, "The Beast" The lady and her Panhead You can tell this hairy Knuck gets ridden—a lot