Many years ago, on a cold December night a crusty old biker was
returning from a trip to Mexico with his saddlebags filled with toys and
other assorted trinkets for the kids at a group home, near where he
worked.

As he rode along that night thinking how lucky he had been in life, having a
loving riding partner that understood his need to roam the highways and to
his trusty old pan that hadn't let him down once in the many years they
shared the road together.                                  

Well about 40 miles north of the border, in the high desert lurked a small
group of those notorious little critters known as road gremlins, you know
the ones that always leave little obstacles like, one shoe, boards, pieces
of old tires, and dig the dreaded pot holes for bikers to run over and crash
thus giving the road gremlins a chance to rejoice over their acts of evil.

Well as the lone wolf of a biker rounded a curve that moonlit night the
gremlins ambushed him, causing him to crash to the asphalt and skid for
always before coming to a stop, next to one of his saddlebags that had
broken free. As he lay there, unable to move, the road gremlins made
their move towards him. Well this biker not being one to give up started
throwing things at the gremlins as they approached him. Finally with
nothing else to throw but a bell he started ringing it, in hopes to scare off
the dirty little gremlins.

About a half a mile away camped in the desert, were two bikers sitting
around the camp fire talking about their days ride, and the freedom of the
wind blowing in their faces as they rode across this vast country. In the
stillness of the night air, they heard what sounded to them like church
bells ringing and upon investigating, found the old biker lying along the
roadside with the gremlins about to get him. Needless to say, being part
of the biker brotherhood they preceded to ward off the gremlins until the
last of gremlins ran off into the night.

Being grateful to the two bikers the old road dog offered to pay them for
their help, but as all true bikers do, they refused to accept any type of
payment from him. Not being one to let a good deed go unnoticed, the old
biker cut two pieces of leather from his saddle bags tassels and tied a
bell to each one, then slowly placed them on each of the bikers
motorcycles, as near to the ground as possible. The tired, old road
warrior, then told the two travelers that with those bells placed on their
bikes they would be protected from the road gremlins and that if ever in
trouble, just ring the bell and a fellow biker will come to their aid.               
          

So when ever you see a biker with a bell you'll know that he has been
blessed with the most important thing in life -- friendship from a fellow
biker.                       

THE PURPOSE OF THE BELL

Many of us have heard the story about Evil Road Spirits. They are little
gremlins that live on your bike. They love to ride. They're also responsible
for most of your bike's problems. Sometimes your turn signals refuse to
work, or the battery goes dead, the clutch needs adjustment, or any of
several hundred things go wrong. These problems are caused by Evil
Road Spirits.

Road spirits can't live in the presence of the bell. They get trapped in the
hollow of the bell. Among other things, their hearing is supersensitive. The
constant ringing of the bell and the confined space drives them insane.
They lose their grip and eventually fall to the roadway. (have you ever
wondered how potholes are formed?) The bell has served its purpose.


If you pick up a bell of your own, the magic will work. But if your bell was
given to you, the power is doubled, and you know that somewhere you
have a special friend helping to look after you.


So if you have a friend that doesn't have a bell, why not be the person to
give them one? it's a nice feeling for the recipient to know you personally
cared. The bell, plus a good preventive maintenance program by the bikes
owner, will help eliminate the Evil Road Spirits.

POLISHING THE BELL

It has been a tradition among some of us, for a long time, to run a brass
bell on the left swing arm, to remember our brothers and sisters who have
gone down riding.  It's a small thing, but the reason a brass bell is chosen
is that, as we ride, it will get dirty and tarnished. Every time we get down
and wash and polish it, we are reminded of friends lost, and our thoughts
turn to the meaning of being in the wind.                          

As we ride, and hear the bell ring, we know that our brothers and sisters
are riding with us. How easy it would be to join them with a single mistake.

And maybe, just maybe, the next time a situation comes up, they will be
there to help us ... as long as we remember them by polishing the bell.

Submitted by David C