Fame is difficult to manage. I’m not talking about the life of a celebrity, those who have to carefully control what they do and what they say. Neither am I talking about those people who want to maintain their famous status, looking for new ways to keep themselves in the public eye. I’m referring to the fame that people have foisted upon them for a specific action, for something out of their own control and that, when you really think about it, doesn’t represent who they are at all.
It’s something that happens frequently these days—viral videos making social media superstars out of unsuspecting people, or minor misdemeanors becoming front page splashes. However, imagine this phenomenon happening not just to one poor person, but to an entire group of people. Imagine an entire subculture of people labelled as pariahs and reprobates, defined in terms they did not choose and cannot control.
This was the fate of America’s motorcycling community in the mid 20th century, after a small minority—the 1% against the other 99%—tarred the name of bikers forever more.
In 1947, Hollister, a small picturesque town in California, held one of the largest events involving motorcyclists that had ever been organized. It was sponsored by the American Motorcycle Association (AMA) and a local club named Salinas Ramblers Motorcycle Club, and was meant to be a weekend of races and shows that no motorcycle enthusiast would ever want to miss. These kinds of moto festivals had been going on since the 1930s, but what happened on that fateful day in Hollister was different and changed the world’s view of bikers forever.
The event that weekend was a disaster, it’s no exaggeration. What started as a celebration of all things motorcycling quickly became a riot. On the first day, the police had to force all bars to close two hours earlier than normal, as many people were getting violently drunk, giving a massively negative image for a small Californian not used to such visitors. Throughout the weekend, some bikers—presumably only 1%—heeded little attention to the activities promoted by the organizers, instead dedicating themselves to drinking like there was no tomorrow and having reckless races throughout the town. It was not until the police began to threaten to use force and tear gas that the rioters decided to disperse and leave the small, quiet town.
The whole thing now seems like a storm in a teacup, a whirlwind of engines, booze and young men out for an alcohol fueled wild ride. In fact, during the entire “riot,” there is no record of any person being injured, and neither was there any property burned or destroyed. It might best be seen as a party that got out of hand—people drinking too much and having fun that they would later come to regret. However, that was not what that weekend in Hollister would be remembered for.
Members of Team Buckley participate in “Biker Sunday” Sep. 17, 2017, at the Buckley Chapel on Buckley Air Force Base, CO. Photo by U.S. Air Force photo by Airman 1st Class Jake Deatherage (CC0).
After the event, Life Magazine published a picture which has now become iconic. It features a young man looking pretty out of it—eyes blurred, jaw slacked—perched on top of his Harley-Davidson with several bottles of beer around him. It soon became a sensationalist print, seen by disapproving eyes throughout the country as the entire US press exaggerated facts to extremes, labeling all motorcyclists as uncontrollable, aggressive and dangerous rebels.
This is one of the reasons why the AMA decided to corner those bikers who were making the rest look bad, trying to let the public know that it was only a small few who were actually loutish renegades. However, the whole event and its subsequent coverage had damaged the image of “decent motorists” beyond repair. It led to many motorists feeling displaced, their attitudes becoming increasingly virulent. Some even wore a patch on their left arm which read 1%, pointing to the fact that the badly behaved bikers were such a small minority. When the Hell’s Angels and other groups appeared later on, it should come as no surprise that they co-opted such symbols, reveling in their status as violent rebels.
That small group of bikers in 1947 were the ones responsible for giving the entire community a bad reputation. But what of the well behaved ones, the 99%? There are a great majority of motorcycle enthusiasts who have tried to continue their hobbies without being pigeonholed, struggling to reverse the image so many now hold of them.
99% Moto Bar.
This idea is something that 99% Moto Bar (C / Joan Güell, 207) was founded upon. Named in honor of majority in motorcycle culture and the good vibes that they have always shown, 99% Moto celebrates all that is good about biking culture, dispelling those age old myths and becoming Barcelona’s premier joint for bikers while they’re at it. It’s run by Jordi Bou and Oscar Manresa, two guys who have breathed passion into the engines of the place, giving it such a brilliant biking aesthetic.
Situated right next to Barcelona’s Harley-Davidson Space, run by Jorge del Olmo, 99% Moto Bar is the perfect place to enjoy a beer and a burger surrounded by American memorabilia, music and the best of biking culture. If you want to know more about the world of bikers—the world beyond that terrible 1%—the 99% Moto Bar is the best place in Barcelona to do so.
The Harley-Davidson shop is located at Carrer de Joan Güell, 207. You can find out more at the website at 99motobar.com or follow on Twitter: @99MotoBar, Facebook: @el.99.por.ciento, or Instagram: @99motobar.