MR HARLEY WOLF, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 1991.

I met this guy one afternoon in Cedar Rapids and asked him if I could take his photograph. We were having a chat and he told me how he’d lost his leg in a motorcycle accident and that he was the leader of the local biker gang. Harley Wolf (that really was his real name) invited me to the gang’s headquarters in a local bar that evening. The people I was staying with advised me not to go as it was on the ‘wrong side of the tracks’ and it had a bad reputation.

Of course, I went and entered the bar expecting to see Harley but there was no sign of him. The crowded joint suddenly became very quiet and everyone was staring at me, wondering who the hell is this guy coming into their bar. Then a voice broke the silence, “I don’t know who he is, but I’m having the f***er’s boots when we’ve finished with him,” referring to the snakeskin cowboy boots I was wearing.

Suddenly the door creaked open and I heard the voice of Harley Wolf, “Hi Rev, how yer doing? Wanna beer?” That beer never touched the proverbial sides.

All was well and I spent a great night with the gang and was invited to a bike ride to Montana the following week. I wish I’d gone.


(See the next photograph: Mr Harley Wolf and Friends, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 1991).