Gray Riders still Hog wild about bikes

Sitting on the park bench, the gray-haired guys dressed in black leather motorcycle jackets are explaining how they chose this sunny spot behind the Captree Cove Concession in Bay Shore as their daily retirement hangout.

"It's the garden spot of Long Island," says Stan Rosenfeld, 74, a retired businessman who rode his motorcycle here from Great Neck, one of a half-dozen guys hanging out today.

The sun is out and it's 43 degrees with a windchill factor that makes it 15 degrees colder. But this spot is warm and out of the wind, which is whipping the U.S. flag in the parking lot straight out, and bouncing the boats in the Captree boat basin.

"It feels like Florida," says Rosenfeld.

On any given weekday you can find a handful of older riders hanging out here, clad in leather practically from head to toe. They roar in on their Harley-Davidsons, park them nearby, buy a cup of coffee, then join the group by the bench. Warmer weather draws them out around 10:30, but on colder days like this, they're here around noon. Although many know each other only by first names, the group is cohesive enough to have an unofficial title.

"We call ourselves the Gray Riders," says Vincent Pirrone, a retired Long Beach lawyer and judge who is one of the "regulars."

A warm winter day can bring sweater-wearing Long Islanders to Jones Beach, to the golf links, or even with hook and line to a fishing pier. But for the Gray Riders, every clear day is a bike day. In their 60s, 70s and even 80s, some have been riding for decades. Experience has made them savvier and more safety conscious, and retirement incomes allow them to buy top-of-the-line bikes. Still, accidents happen, sometimes resulting in injuries. And just about all have been pressured by well-meaning friends and family to give up their "dangerous" hobby. They say that's not likely to happen until they lack the strength to push an 850-pound Harley-Davidson out of the garage, down the driveway and onto the open road.

So far, all of the weekday "regulars" are guys, a possible reflection of the motorcycle licenses issued. In Suffolk, 51,259 licenses are held by men; 4,414 by women. In Nassau, it's 34,767 men; 2,488 women. Statewide, there are 665,552 licensed riders, 70,007 of them women, according to the latest Department of Motor Vehicle data, from 2010.

Joe Rutigliano, owner of the concession and the Captree Cove Restaurant on the second floor, says the Gray Riders are dedicated bikers who take advantage of the scenic area in off-season, when there's no fee to get into the state park. On Sundays, he says, the number of bikers swells to 200 to 300 riders. They mingle in the parking lot with car enthusiasts who arrive in their show vehicles.

"They're great guys," Rutigliano says of the "seasoned" Gray Riders. After Memorial Day, they move their meeting spot to what was once the Oak Beach Inn because there is no entry fee there, even during the summer. No Marlon Brando "The Wild One" caricatures here. They are retired professionals, businessmen and blue collar workers -- and one rabbi.

They ride year-round, even when the temperature drops toward the freezing mark. "It's always nice on the bike," says Ric Lefebure, 65, a retired corrections officer who lives in western Suffolk County. "You see twice as much as you see from the car."

Pirrone, 73, calls motorcycling his "passion late in life." He puts an average of 14,000 miles a year on his Harley, including cross-country trips. Pirrone wears a cap from the huge Sturgis Motorcycle Rally held each August in the Black Hills of South Dakota, which he has attended. "It's a wonderful feeling when you're riding and free to think and reflect," Pirrone says. "And yet there's that wind in your face and open air and that zoom."

However, at any age, riding a motorcycle on parkways in the busy metro area can be dangerous. "I'm careful, no matter what I ride, but there's too many crackpots out there," says Jeffrey Lash, 69, of West Hempstead. Lash also hangs out at Captree. He estimates he's ridden 245,000 miles since he bought his first bike, a Harley-Davidson Electra Glide, in 1975. Now he rides a black 1988 Harley-Davidson Tour Glide, which he bought new. Lash has been hit three times by cars, he says, while going about 20 mph. The last time, in an accident coming home from Bear Mountain, he hit his head and was hospitalized for treatment of a subdural hematoma, where blood collects on the brain. But he still rides.

A broken knee, sustained in a minor motorcycle accident, recently sidelined Rabbi Samuel Hirsch, 65, of East Meadow, a retired New York City police chaplain. But he's ready to get back on the bike and head to Captree as soon as his knee heals. "They call me the Rebel Rabbi," says Hirsch, an Orthodox Jew with a Harley-Davidson emblem on his yarmulke. He owns three bikes -- a Harley-Davidson Road King, a Suzuki Boulevard 350 and a Kawasaki 450 LTD.

Motorcyclists have a psychological advantage, the rabbi says. "Whenever we have problems, we just go on the bike and air it out. . . . There's an old saying: 'You won't find a motorcycle in front of a psychiatrist's office.' "

Once they reach a destination, they can count on camaraderie from fellow motorcyclists to ward off the chill. It's generally good-natured bantering, but not so much classic biker chatter. "We all make fun of each other," says Lefebure. But, "We talk less about women and motorcycles than about what medicine we take."

On a winter day like this, layers of clothing include leather vests, chaps over denim pants, boots and gloves. The winter gear is both for warmth and protection against abrasions if they should happen to fall off the bike. Electric-heated gloves, vests and other accessories that draw juice from the motorcycle also are owned by a number of the guys.

Clothing is a way to express a biker's individuality. Over his leather jacket Lefebure wears a denim vest covered with souvenir buttons -- including one that says, "Damn I Got Old Quick."

In the long run, of course, age takes its toll and the sun eventually sets on your motorcycling days. Pirrone says, "One of the sad things is the people who have to give it up, and I'm going to face that . . . that's a reality that gray riders face, knowing that the time is going to come when they will be unable to ride."

Pirrone's tennis buddies try to get him to give up his motorcycle. And Peter Mattmuller, 70, of Syosset, says his mother in Florida still worries about his motorcycle riding. "When I visit, she says, 'Are you still driving your motorcycle? When are you going to give it up?' " Mattmuller says. He replies: "Never."

For now, they are hanging tough.

"I don't know if it makes you feel young as much as it makes you feel vibrant," Pirrone says of motorcycle riding. "As you get older, you don't have that many things exciting in our life."

Says Lefebure: "What other moron would go out and freeze their fingers off, come home and say what a great day I had."