Evolution
The bikes evolve, especially their parade bikes. Those bikes are usually so full of extra skulls and exhausts and horns that they are too heavy to use on a 30- or 40-mile ride, but perfect for the slow cruise of a parade.
Juan Vargas is a 58-year-old Bronxite who recently had his right hip replaced so he walks with a slight limp. He’s a hulk of a man who from far away looks like he’s not a man to be messed with. Up close, he never stops smiling. He’s one of the most respected men in the group and Benny says he’s like “the father of the club.”
Juan’s parade bike is a vintage Rollfast that he constantly modifies, adding another horn or another skull when he comes across something he likes. He’s got a Jaguar hood ornament on the front below two chrome airhorns.
While showing off some of his modifications, he occasionally unscrews the cap of the chrome canister he keeps in his water bottle holder to take a swig of Coors Light.
“This is my wife, my wheelchair, and my bed,” he says. “I love my bike.”
He hugs and kisses the Rollfast and then blasts the airhorn so it echoes down Southern Boulevard.
His nickname?
“Roba Camera, which means camera stealer,” says Benny.
Between Juan’s bike and his chest of medals and pins, whenever local news outlets or newspapers take pictures of the club, he ends up on TV or in print.
The club attracts attention, but they love it. Half