In the 1960s, riding a big motorcycle was often associated with rowdy clubs like the Hell's Angels and other seedier elements of society that might be considered "hell raisers."
Smaller bikes were just coming onto the scene with the introduction of the Honda 50cc, and those who rode the big bikes, or "choppers," needed to be somewhat mechanically inclined just to keep them running.
"In the old days," said Salt Lake County resident Robert Pusey, "the only guys who rode Harleys were wild and crazy folks.
"And you had to enjoy being mechanical," he added. "Not only enjoy it, but you had to at least be able to do it because you'd be out in ... nowhere and something would go wrong with it. But today they are really reliable."
Today it is fashionable for everyone from stockbrokers to pilots to teachers and grandmas to get together ?and ride the "big bikes" as they travel across the country.
It's a scenario that was humorously depicted in the movie "Wild Hogs," starring John Travolta and Tim Allen, in which four middle-aged men who have been longtime friends decide to hit the open road on their motorcycles.
And it happens in real life, too. There's a group of Utah friends who have been together since high school, and Leslie Coleman hung the moniker Pals & Gals on the group that meets for breakfast every week and often goes on short rides when weather permits.
Now in their 50s, Jim and Terri Meadows, Jerry and Linda Petersen, Pusey and his wife, Cari, along with Coleman and her husband, Roger, also manage at least one 10-day motorcycle trip a year and have toured the entire western United States.
The four men and two of the wives have been friends since graduating from Brighton High School in its first year of existence in 1970 and have since gone on to successful business careers.
Petersen has his own insurance agency, Meadows is a partner in an auto repair business, and Coleman's entrepreneurial efforts have included a restaurant in Salt Lake City and a bed-and-breakfast near Zion's National Park. He currently lives in Hurricane, making it tough to get to the group's weekly breakfasts.
Robert Pusey appears to be the "baddest" of them all in his undershirt and leather vest, sporting pins, buttons and all manner of trinkets. Together with his beard and long hair, law enforcement officials hassle him regularly throughout the 42 states in which he has toured.
But the law backs off when it finds out that he is an attorney. And besides, neither he nor his buddies are law-breakers. And Pusey's wife, Cari, points out: "He is not a brothel inspector."
But Pusey quickly points out, "She doesn't go on all the rides with me."
He definitely has a lot of fun in his travels, as he also rides regularly with a group of judges. They just returned in June from a trip to the Dakotas, where they did pass through Sturgis, S.D. — the mecca of motorcycle riding — but it wasn't during the town's annual bike week, which occurs every August.
Pals & Gals visited Sturgis during bike week in 2003. Pusey and Meadows both agreed that every serious motorcyclist should do that at least once in their lifetime.
Pusey has 58,000 miles on his current bike, and he put 95,000 miles on his previous motorcycle. Meadows only has 14,000 miles on his bike. So Pusey does get around more than the others as he spoke of the "fly and ride" program in which he doesn't even hit the road on his own bike.
"The Midwest is so butt-ugly," said Pusey. "Last year we flew into Philadelphia and just rented bikes."
That trip with the judges included 10 states and Canada in the Northeast.
Pusey's "costume" does attract some attention. Terri Meadows tells this story: "One time in Grand Junction (Colo.), we were standing in a gas station and asking directions. A cop was driving by staring at us and he rear-ended the car in front of him." Jim Meadows added, "The car he hit was totaled."
When Pusey was in high school, one day he was "blistering up the road" on Bengal Boulevard and a car turned in front of him and he went right over the handlebars and landed in the Memorial Estates cemetery.
He describes what happened next: "I was lying on my back and looked over my shoulder and realized my leg and foot was still in my boot.
"I didn't want to see this so I just blacked out."
He didn't want to remain in the cemetery, either. Said Terri Meadows, "They brought him to school in a wheelbarrow."
But that was some six weeks later after they had put him in a full body cast, in which he remained for 4 1/2 months.
So, maybe Robert was one of those "wild and crazy folks" that he spoke of earlier. Of course, he's cleaned up his act now. Just look at him.
Seriously, though, one attorney who knows of him said, "People like a bulldog, so maybe that is why he is very successful."
Comparing Pusey to a bulldog, well, that isn't fair to the bulldog.
Danger always lurks for those who ride motorcycles.
Jerry Petersen quipped: "If they can see you, they are aiming for you; and if they can't see you, they will kill you by accident."
But rewards outweigh the risks in this experience. "Every day is an adventure," says Petersen, "This isn't about going anywhere."
Added Pusey, "It's not the destination, it's the journey."
Pusey recollects back to when they used to carry bedrolls and sleep in campgrounds and parks. Today, hotels and motels serve as more comfortable alternatives.
"After I had grandchildren," says Cari Pusey, "no more (sleeping) on the ground."
So how much longer will the Pals & Gals endure sore backsides and finally start resorting to car trips? Said Jim Meadows, "When we can't hold the bikes up anymore, we will get trikes."
Meadows tells of an experience at Arches one year when his kids came down a day later in the motor home.
"The first day," said Meadows, "Terri and I went on the bike. The next day, we went with the kids in the truck. And it just wasn't the same."
"You smell nature," he said, "the flowers, the grass and the rotting venison on the side of the road. Along with the good, you have to take the nasty stuff. It's all part of the experience."
Terri Meadows got the last word in: "People riding behind Jim," she said, "constantly get the nasty stuff."
e-mail: wjewkes@desnews.com