Hollister 2000
story by Keith "Windwalker" Schnyder
photos by John "Stormrider" Morgan

(Hollister - Then and Now)

Remember when you were a kid and you couldn't wait for Christmas, it seemed like the closer it got the longer it took to get there.

That's the feeling I get nowadays when I'm going to go on a ride with some good bros. This past weekend I rode up to Hollisters' 4th of July annual bash with two good friends, John and Chas, and a new one, Alexandra.

It's kind of understood among us that when the boys go on a ride, it's just the fellas. No old ladies or girlfriends. So when John showed up with a lady friend named Alexandra, Chas and I couldn't help but wonder how it was going to affect the trip. We trust our bros judgment, though, and he didn't let us down. Alex fit right in and added a little sugar to the spice on this road trip.

We pulled out of San Dimas on Saturday morning about nine and rode the 210 freeway to the 5 northbound. First stop, Gorman. A little stretch, a smoke, some gas and for a couple of us who'll remain unmentioned, a beer. Back on the road and we found ourselves cutting lanes up the grapevine. Seems they picked 4th of July weekend to close the right two lanes for repair. Go figure. This cut our miles per hour but at least we were moving and thats more than I can say for all the cages.

There's two things about traveling the "5" that I like. One is, if you're pressed for time, you can get where you're going in a hurry. We were cruising along at 70 to 75 and had to keep moving over to let cars blow by. The other is you can think. About anything. Or nothing. It's a good road to get what I call "the feeling" because there's nothing to distract your attention, except the cars blowing by you.

Three more gas and beer stops and we find ourselves pulling into Hollister via highway 152 about four or five that afternoon. The downtown area was packed. My bro, John (a.k.a. Stormrider), knows people from coast to coast and all in between because he rides. I mean he really rides. It's his life and I admire him for it because I know how hard it can be. He's always running on a tankful of dreams and a pocket full of memories. That makes him one of the richest people I know. Anyways, he had some friends that lived near the fairgrounds he met on the road a few years earlier and we stayed at their place. We weren't the only ones either. Their whole yard was filled with tents and an assortment of characters from all over the place, including us. My hat goes off to Matt and Maureen for their hospitality.

We went into town that night and I was surprised to see so may locals. It's a big thing for them when that many bikes roll into town so they come out in numbers to check everything out and join in the party.

There were lots of vendors, lots of bikes and a whole lot of people.When we got back to our campsite the party was in full swing. It lasted to the wee hours of the morning and I don't remember getting much sleep. Makes for a long ride home if things don't work out just right. I got a kick out of watching everybody start to stir to life the next morning.

We thanked our hosts and said goodbye to some new friends and took off homebound still feeling the effects of a double shot of Hollister on the rocks from the night before. Now, fortunately for us, things worked out just right.

After some minor repairs on Johns scoot (gum and duct tape, I think) we were cruising down highway 25 through some truly beautiful country. Rolling hills with patches of trees and an occasional house on a long winding piece of blacktop. Real nice. Ride this road if you ever get the chance. We cut over to the 101 at some point and started riding hard. We hit the coast and there's something about riding next to the ocean that gets my blood pumping. Could be the combination of its beauty, gentleness and awesome power or maybe it's just the sheer size of it but it humbles me. Roaring down the coast with my boots about four inches above the pavement and the ocean on one side and my bros on the other side made me feel like we were flying.

We had a great ride home with no bike problems and lots of laughs. We stopped on the side of the road when we got close to home and were going to have to go in different directions and exchanged hugs and good byes. Good trip. I couldn't help thinking the rest of the ride home about how fortunate I was to have bros like I do.

Every bro I've got is a hero to me for one reason or another.

All the memories of good times never fails to bring a smile to my face.

This trip was one more testament to the strength of that brotherhood that can't be described, it can only be experienced.

Experience it.