Local bicycle crew seeks new members … catchy nicknames and cheap beers could be yours. Mount up!

(Photo by Robofury) Members the Late Knight Bikers. From left Black Falcon, Darth F*#Ker, Rocksteady, Camara Wind, Dr. Double D, Moca Chip, Bebop and fluff.

By Wolf

It was 10 p.m. on a cool, crisp Monday night and a small group of bicyclists are gathering in the Vons parking lot.
One by one they appear out of the night, cruising in on a variety of bikes. The group resembles a peddler’s hodge-podge of tricked out beach cruisers, downhill mountain bikes, fixed gears and old rusty road bikes. It’s a weekly occurrence, and often the number of riders reaches into the 20s and 30s. But tonight, maybe because of the weather, the crew is only riding 10 deep.
They’re called the Late Knight Bikers, or LKB, the brainchild of a stocky athletic type named Chuck Evans, who often rocks a trademark blue hoodie, green riding gloves and a shaved Mohawk while atop his murdered-out mountain bike. However, if you find yourself riding with the LKB, you should call him by his biker name: Black Falcon.  “The idea behind the group is just to bring people together with common interests, mainly riding bikes…at night,” says Falcon. The group also has a shared interest in sweet biker nicknames, which include tags such as Shark Week, Sledge Jammer, Tiny Prancer and Lightning Mist.
While we wait for more people to show, Falcon’s enthusiasm for bikes and night cruising is starting to get the best of him. He answers his phone, “Yo man, where you at? Damn, son, you can’t make it?! You’re slippin’ on your pimpin’ and slackin’ on your mackin’, playa.” He speaks into his phone while gripping it with his green gloves, as if bellowing into a megaphone. Meanwhile, a Vons employee is leaving work and Falcon manages to convince the newbie to join the LKB. “Come on, man, ride with us! What else you gotta do?” cries Falcon. Slightly confused and little taken back, the tall mullet-rocking employee responds, “Uh yeah … sure.” Naturally, he would later be nicknamed Rock-Steady.
It’s 10:25 p.m., and Falcon decides it’s time to roll out of Vons. With Easy-E bumping from another biker’s backpack stereo, the LKB heads down Old Mammoth Road, taking the long way to the Tap. The route is spontaneous; often resulting in detours through the “Ghetto” or Sierra Lodge’s Frosty’s Mini-Golf course to recruit more members, but ultimately ending at an outlying watering hole.
It seems the LKB makes stops at whatever bars offer the best deals (So far this includes the aforementioned Tap, Grumpy’s and Lakanuki), however Falcon insists the mantra of LKB is centered on cruising around on bikes, rather than just pounding beers. “It all started  three weeks ago when there was a full moon. I knew it was going to be a good night,” Falcon recalled. “So I just decided to organize a night ride.”
You would think a gang of bikers with sweet nicknames would, stereotypically, be into ass-less chaps and hassling shop keepers. But so far the LKB hasn‘t had and issue with the local authorities. According to the Mammoth Police, the legalities are the same for riding a bike as operating a car. Besides not blowing a .08, riding a bicycle at night also carries the responsibility of having lights and reflectors fixed to the bike. “We just keep it mellow and we don’t overdo it. We want people to come out to join us and be safe, so we obviously follow all those rules,” Falcon maintains.
So far it would appear that people are catching on to Falcon’s underground creation, as local bars have been courting the LKB’s patronage. Clearly they are starting to figure out what Falcon knew from the beginning; that like the Wolfman, history has shown that anything born on a full moon is ultimately bad-ass.