DYNAMIC CREATED
But a closer look reveals that barring a few exceptions, these bikers and their neighbours have successfully established a live-and-let-live dynamic that allows for their coexistence in relative peace.
Before Annie Muldoon and her partner bought the house beside the Outlaws’ Ladouceur clubhouse in 2011, she asked passing neighbours about what, exactly, they were getting themselves into. “People were overwhelming positive,” she said.
The day the Muldoons moved in, they heard a knock at the door. “A huge man with tattoos all over him was at our back door, saying, ‘Do you folks want some corn? We just had a corn roast.’
“They work really hard to be good neighbours. And we’ve never had any conflict, we’ve never witnessed anything concerning. The only thing is the noise of the bikes.”
Other Hintonburg homeowners echoed this sentiment. Emily Addison lives across the street from the clubhouse, and said she considers the bikers more of a neighbourhood asset than a liability. She feels like Ladouceur is safer than most streets — what petty criminal would feel bold on biker turf? — and that the Outlaws add to its socioeconomic diversity.
“There’s a lot of gentrification with three-quarter-of-a-milliondollar homes being put in, and I feel having the biker gang on our street keeps things just a little bit more real,” Addison said.
When provided some examples of biker crime, and asked if they coloured her view of her Ladouceur Street neighbours, Addison said she objectively takes issue with these activities, “but ... for whatever reason, I don’t have an association between this club on our street and the larger activity of gang culture across the continent.
“I don’t know if these folks are doing those things — I don’t really care to know. They’re respectful neighbours.”
She’s far from the only one to hold this view — in fact, it’s exactly the outcome outlaw motorcycle gangs have proven extremely adept at cultivating.
Julian Sher, an investigative journalist and author of two books on the Hells Angels, has seen firsthand the unique charisma with which many an outlaw biker has charmed civilians.
“Some of them can be creeps and bullies, but many of them are amicable and they’re smart, and a lot of them are clean shaven, and (have) short cropped hair, and they have fancy bikes.”
Adding to this lovable bad boy image is the fact that many outlaw bikers will cop to being rebels, but not dangerous criminals, and can get away with it because much of their crime is committed out of sight. Mix in remarkable PR savvy — as Sher points out, it’s difficult, if not impossible, to think of another organized criminal group that has websites and spokespeople — and the fact these bikers can fraternize alongside civilians without much conflict, and their steadfast existence makes a lot more sense.
“Their flair and reliance on public relations, and the allure of the outlaw biker image ... gives them a popularity, a resilience, even sometimes a kind of grudging admiration from too many people in society,” Sher said.
There are certain individuals — like the Ladouceur residents who approached the Citizen — who buck this trend, and would like to see their neighbourhood bikers ousted. But in this case, the rejection comes not so much from moral or safety objections, but rather a desire to enjoy a quieter and more prosperous neighbourhood.
While Hintonburg is gentrifying, and Ladouceur Street with it, the section of the street where the Outlaws roost is still mostly comprised of small clapboard homes (though one of these was listed for sale at close to half-a-million dollars). Elsewhere on the street, you’ll find modern glass townhouses and construction sites.
“There’s more kids on the street now, there’s more new homes. They just don’t fit in, to be honest with you,” said one of the residents, of the neighbourhood Outlaws. Noise issues aside, “if you look at the bigger picture, in the interests of the community — we pushed out the hookers, we pushed out the drug dealers, and now, all that’s left ... is the biker gang.”
Whether a changing neighbourhood composition will actually force the clubhouse out remains to be seen — though it will mean an influx of newcomers with more money and no experience living beside bikers, potentially objecting to their presence in a way most longtime residents haven’t to date.
But in the meantime, it appears the one percenters in Hintonburg and other clubhouses across the country will continue to collect on the social capital that protects their place in the fabric of communities.
There is one group, however, that claims immunity to biker PR.
Police are privy to information about outlaw motorcycle gangs that allows them to see, far more than the public, who members are and what they do behind closed doors. And because they insist these activities include serious, dangerous organized criminality, this begs another question.
Why, exactly, aren’t police stopping the Outlaws and other gangs like it from maintaining clubhouses in communities, even if neighbours don’t — for the most part — feel a need to rock the boat?
The answer is as simple as it is challenging for those working to dismantle biker networks.
“Anyone can buy a residence,” Renton said. “And if you’re not using it outside of the zoning laws in that community, you can do so much.”
It’s an entitlement that allows for the black-and-white house on Ladouceur, the Hells Angels hangout in Carlsbad Springs, and the other biker clubhouses in communities across the country.
As Sher explains it, Canada hasn’t outlawed one-percenter biker gangs — civil liberties, such as freedom of association, would make that an extremely difficult outcome to achieve. The Netherlands made headlines in May for becoming the first country to ban the Hells Angels, and according to German broadcaster Deutsche Welle, it’s a ruling the gang indicated it intends to appeal.
In Canada, there has been discussion at the federal level around a list of proven criminal organizations — similar to the national list of terrorist entities — which could include outlaw biker gangs. In fact, it’s one promise from the federal Conservatives’ election platform.
In a 2018 Canadian Press story, legal experts took issue with the proposal. Prosecutors have the burden of proving gang activity, and rightly so, they said. The question of whether a group of individuals is an organized crime network “is not one that can simply be assumed” by government, said Neil Boyd, a criminology professor at Simon Fraser University.
For the time being, it’s a serious undertaking to dismantle a biker clubhouse in Canada — and the reason many continue to exist. Although Canadian authorities can seize clubhouses through Criminal Code and civil forfeiture legislation, and have been able to do so, it can require significant effort, time and taxpayer money.
In B.C., the Hells Angels and the province are still fighting a court battle over the forfeiture of clubhouses in Nanaimo, Vancouver and Kelowna. It’s been 12 years since the director of civil forfeiture went after the first one, and he’s acknowledged that costs have been high. In fact, he said he’d have to “crunch the numbers” to determine whether the legal bills have exceeded the value of the properties facing forfeiture.
In 2014, Manitoba became the first North American jurisdiction to add the Hells Angels to a list of criminal organizations. The move was designed to eliminate a requirement that authorities repeatedly prove the gang is a criminal organization in legal proceeding after legal proceeding, resulting in “more swift and effective enforcement of provincial laws,” including the act used to pursue biker clubhouse forfeiture. Ontario has not followed suit.
In an email, the provincial Ministry of the Attorney General broke down the steps required for clubhouse forfeiture under the Civil Remedies Act.
The attorney general receives forfeiture cases, and assesses them in accordance with “public interest” and other factors.
We pushed out the hookers, we pushed out the drug dealers, and now, all that’s left ... is the biker gang.
The AG has to prove, on the balance of probabilities, the property is a proceed or instrument of illegal activity, or used in a conspiracy that’s injurious to the public. If this is accomplished, a Superior Court judge can then grant a forfeiture order, and the property can be sold or demolished.
Despite the investment required, the OPP’s Barnum said biker clubhouse seizures can be a worthwhile law enforcement goal. Shutting down these properties “helps us to keep them mobile and moving around and keep them so they can’t get in a pattern,” he said. Any value obtained from the property after being forfeited can go back into government coffers. According to the attorney general, these funds can go toward victim compensation, cost recovery or provincial grants.
Asked specifically why this has yet to happen in Ottawa, Barnum said, “Don’t give up on us. You can read between the lines.”
He added, “if we’re going to proceed that way, we want to make sure we’re going to win … we have (to have) the right investigation and the right case to move forward with.”
That could take a while. The organized nature of these groups makes investigating and prosecuting them anything but simple. And Barnum is the first to admit that outlaw motorcycle gangs “haven’t always been a priority” for Canadian law enforcement.
For years, he said, biker investigations were happening, but coordination was lacking between different policing bodies in different places. That’s changed in the last few years, according to Barnum, and today, members of the Canadian Integrated Response to Organized Crime (CIROC) — a national body that brings together high-ranking police service members — meet on a quarterly basis to share intelligence and co-ordinate investigations.
The latter requires the gamut of law enforcement techniques — from wiretaps and surveillance to informants and undercover operations. And, Barnum added, “these extremely expensive, complex ... protracted criminal investigations may be not as efficient and as effective as other things we can do.”
A look at RCMP and provincial police Twitter feeds reveals “alternative approaches” to biker policing, as Barnum calls them. Earlier this spring, participating CIROC agencies launched a social media campaign, circulating graphics designed to teach the public about the “true colours” of outlaw motorcycle gangs, advising against supporting these groups, and encouraging people to report suspicious activity.
“We can’t do this alone. We need the support of the communities,” said Renton, who heads the OPP’s biker enforcement unit.
Asked specifically about the residents on Ladouceur Street, who feel their concerns about local bikers have gone unacknowledged by the same authorities asking for their help, Renton said, “I’d never turn anyone away.
“I would truly urge those people to call the Ottawa Police Service or the OPP and ask to speak with biker enforcement unit members. And I can guarantee you that biker enforcement members will reach out and have conversations with people.”
Another popular tool for outlaw biker deterrence has been the humble municipal bylaw. Police forces can work with policy-makers to pass bylaws prohibiting fortified biker bunkers. While Ottawa doesn’t have one, they exist across the country — from Hamilton, Ont., to Prince Albert, Sask. — and ban certain clubhouse features that biker gangs use to insulate themselves from rivals and law enforcement, such as armoured doors and windows, perimeter booby traps and outward surveillance devices.
In essence, said Sher, who has watched many a community do battle with biker gangs, it takes collaboration at every civic level to chop away at their criminal networks and insulation in communities.
“The police, the politicians and the people have to say, ‘No impunity,’” he said. “The police know they’re never going to arrest every single (outlaw biker) but you just keep arresting them to send the message — ‘You’re not going to get away with it.’
“Politicians have to support with laws that protect communities, and say, ‘You’re not welcome.’ And the people have to wake up to the myths that too many people are living by, and say, ‘Wait a minute, these are criminals, and they’re not welcome in our community.’
“You treat them the way you would treat any other unruly neighbour — you follow the law, but you organize, you educate.”
In Saint-Nicolas, a suburb near Quebec City, residents did just that in the wake of a Hells Angels clubhouse bombing. In the spring of 1997, hundreds marched in protest, demanding the bikers get out of town. Local, provincial and national police spent months piecing together a case, using then-new anti-gang legislation, and eventually they seized the biker clubhouse.
But it took a 20-kg bomb explosion and damage to dozens of homes to mobilize this response. Ottawa’s resident bikers have so far avoided — intentionally or otherwise — crossing the threshold where violence leads their neighbours to turn against them.
But in the absence of an explosive event, what responsibility, if any, does a community have to confront a biker gang in their midst?
It’s a question Coun. Jeff Leiper declined to answer about Ladouceur Street. Annie Muldoon, the Outlaws’ next-door neighbour, said she wouldn’t partake in any kind of effort to make them feel unwelcome.
“I’m not here to judge the way anyone lives,” she said.
Coun. Stephen Blais, in whose ward the Hells Angels Piperville clubhouse is located, said that criminals live on streets in neighbourhoods across Ottawa.
“Unfortunately it’s very difficult for an average citizen to one, know if who’s around them is or isn’t a criminal, and then two, how to engage on that.”
The Carlsbad Springs Community Association summed up the neighbourhood’s feelings about the local Hells Angels in a statement. “They don’t bother anyone, they don’t interact with the community, and that’s about the extent of it.” Others neighbours expressed the same sentiment when approached by the Citizen.
“If there are members of the community that are breaking the law, or if there are organized criminal elements that are breaking the law, then it’s up to the police to investigate and enforce the law, and they do that,” Blais said.
On the subject of bylaws, the councillor pointed out that the city has noise rules that regulate such things as motor vehicle idling, revving and muffler modifications. He hadn’t before heard of fortification bylaws, but said he’d asked the legal department to look into the subject.
“But at the same time, if you have a bylaw, you have to be willing and able to enforce it,” Blais said. “And when you’re talking about enforcing something against a biker gang who you know or believe to be at a high level of criminal activity, (it) really comes down to the police to do that.”
This, and the other responses from officials interviewed, were cold comfort for the residents of Ladouceur who came to the Citizen, with their right to quiet enjoyment and their ambitions for the neighbourhood disrupted by the bikers in their midst.
“It’s everybody passing the buck,” one said. “I have never seen any action. There seems to just be a hands-off approach.”
They could, of course, try to broach the subject directly with the noisy neighbours causing their frustration. Or, as Sher suggested, band together with neighbours to put up the kind of protest that’s hard for authorities to ignore. But these residents said putting the onus on them, and them alone, is unfair and — in the case of approaching the Outlaws directly — possibly unsafe.
As for the OPP officials’ request they don’t give up on their biker investigators, and reach out to police to talk about their concerns: “I just want to see some activity that backs up some of the words.
“I’m tired of people saying, ‘We hear you.’ Now I want to see that they’ve heard and they’re going to try to change it.”