Engines revved, these bikers give — and are — Easter bunnies
On the Saturday before Easter, a column of leather-clad bikers wove from a firehouse in Natrona Heights to a side street in Oakland.
Winding through Tarentum, Harmarville, Blawnox, Oakmont and Verona, the Steel City Vulcan Riders Association knows it drew the ire of some drivers — as the group always does — revving their Kawasaki Vulcans’ V-twin engines alongside families in SUVs and sedans, out for lastminute Easter errands.
They like Vulcans, the group’s leader Lew Thomas says, in part, because of Kawasaki’s “good times” motto, expanded by the national Vulcan Riders’ group to “good times,good friends, good rides.”
“When you put that together with a certain type of bike and a certain type of rider, it ends up being exactly that, and that’s why we all stick together,” he said.
But what onlookers miss, he knows, is how the group defines “good times,” and where they mightbe going on their “good rides.”
The motorcycle riding “association” — not a motorcycle “club,” such as Hells Angels, the Pagans or the Outlaws — participates in the Brian Shaw ride to honor the fallen New Kensington police officer, who was shot and killed during a traffic stop in 2017, and the scholarship fund in his name.
SCVRA also attends the Michael Pils Memorial Run, a ride in Herminie that raises money for childhood brain cancer.
And last weekend, the group — or as many of them as could bear a cold, rainy day — rode to the corner of O’Hara and DeSoto streets in Oakland, the location of UPMC Western Psychiatric Hospital.
There the riders escaped sideways glances in favor of reserved parking and a hero’s welcome from 30 administrators, staff and volunteers from the hospital, none of whom were confused when these bikers — men and women in studs, patches and boots — donned iridescent bunny ears and pulled hundreds of stuffed rabbits out of their mini-trunks, backpacks and saddle bags, gifts for children who receive care at the hospital this Easter.
It was the third annual Pittsburgh Bunny Run, an offshoot of the original Bunny Run in central Pennsylvania, now in its 20th year.
Original Bunny Run riders visit several hospitals — in Harrisburg, Hershey and more — as they donate stuffed bunnies to kids
undergoing various medical treatments.
Thomas aims for just as many stops in the Pittsburgh area some day, though for the past three years, amid COVID-19’s disruptions, he’s made connectionswith just two: Western Psychiatric Hospital and The Ronald McDonald Housein Lawrenceville.
“At Western Psychiatric Hospital, we are lucky to have a bit more flexibility in the gifts we are able to accept, mainly from an infection prevention viewpoint,” said Jeremy Wanless, director of nursing at Western Psych. “There is clinical benefit to these acts of kindness, and they bring a sense of comfort and community to our young patients,” which is exactly the effect the Vulcan Riders are going for.
“We’re at the point in life where we can afford motorcycles, and we have the time to ride motorcycles,” Thomas said. “We realized there’s no reason we can’t use that position, and use our membership, to support charities, the right charities.”
While not a charity, per se, many would agree that children in a psychiatric hospital are a worthy cause. ButThomas didn’t choose it foruniversal appeal.
In ways, he didn’t choose it at all. Life experience did.
Thomas was raised by a single mother in Plum. While she worked hard, he describes their financial situation as “dirt poor.” Using other metrics of wealth, however, they were in the top 1%.
“Anyone who needed it, there was always a plate on the table for them. Anyone who needed it, there was always a place to stay,” he said. “I probably had more friends and family sleeping on our couch over the years than I can possibly remember.”
Her giving nature is what made the news of her rare pancreatic cancer, diagnosedwhen Thomas was just 14 years old, especially devastating.
The “freedom in the open air” he found on his dirt bike, beginning at age 8, took a back seat, as did any other shred of childhood, when he took on a full-time job, hauling fivegallon buckets of paint around construction sites.
When school was in session, he hauled those buckets on the weekends, while working shifts at the local Burger King on school nights, to pay the chemotherapy bills and keep food ontheir (community) table.
Four years after diagnosis, when Thomas was barely 18 years old, his mother passed away.
Though she was just 41 years old, her funeral procession was 2½ miles long, reflecting every plate and bed she ever offered.
Thomas’ “therapy” was, and is, found on motorcycles. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t mind the associated stereotypes.
At 6 foot, 4 inches tall and weighing about 300 pounds, with a long auburn beard hovering just above his chest, he willfully embodies them, as do some of his fellow riders.
Just as his mother’s giving nature seemed in contrast to her resources, Thomas knows the culture and appearance of his group opposes assumptions about charity work and fuzzy bunnies, which only adds impactto their mission.
“I like that people expect us to be in leather, and we’re gruff, and we have messed up beards, and horrible hair. Helmet hair, don’t care. We like that,” he said. “And then, when they see us smiling and handing out bunnies, it’s fun.
“The stereotype I’d like to break is that all bikers are idiots. We’re not.”
Though the group doesn’t seek media attention for their good deeds, they don’t shy away from it either, in part hoping to someday hush the reflexive grumble from drivers when a group of motorcyclists appears in their rearview mirrors.
Because those “good rides,”at least in some cases, are,in fact, do-good rides.
“The Bunny Run hit hard with us, having been barely a teenager when my parent was incapacitated on a regular basis,” Thomas said. “It lets those kids know there’s someone out there thinking about them, even when they’re sick or when they can’t celebrate Easter with their families. If I would have experienced that as a child, it would have been fantastic.
“I want those kids to know it’s OK that you’re down and out right now. You’ll make it, and we’re thinking about you.”