Rebels Motorcycle Club Saskatoon

I am not in a Motorcycle Club, and I do not have a 1%er Motorcycle Patch.  I am neither of Mexican or South American, and I am not involved with these Cartels.  I am not Italian, and I am not part of the Mob.  Who am I?  I am the town drunks son from the land of forest and ice.  I worked my job as the town drunks son in St. Brieux SK.  The happiest day of my life was loosing my job as the town drunks son.  The worst day in my life?  No Question?  The worst day of my life was meeting the Little Whore from Clavet.  You see, I was born into the town drunks son job.  That's just a bad break.  That's an easy enough story to thread together.  How could a Little Whore from Clavet SK be the worst thing that happened to me and a hundred other people?  There's the rub.  What could a little Métis ( māˈtēs/ ) whore on 20th Street and Ave C in Saskatoon SK, do?  Well, that story starts in Saskatoon SK.  Saskatoon SK is named after the Saskatoon Berry, and we also used nicknames like Toon Town and Bridge City for our little city, then.  When I was young, I called Saskatoon the 'Berry Switch'.  Switch is another name used for a horse whip.  Then, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Late in the evening on August 31st 1978, I vacated my apartment in Edmonton.  I caught a few hours sleep in a deserted car behind my old apartment with my backpack, and in the morning I rode my RD400 from Edmonton to Ridgedale SK by way of Border City on September 1 ST.  I left my RD400 in the shed across from the bunkhouse in Ridgedale, and I left the battery in the bunkhouse so it would not freeze in the land of forest and ice.  The town drunk knew the Shriner family southeast of the Healy farm.  Healy's farm was sizeable at 25 quarters of crop land.  Healy's were also feeding 3000 head of cattle on their pasture land.  They also ran a road construction company in Saskatchewan.  They were building a segment of the # 3 Hwy west of Paradise Hill in Northwest Saskatchewan.  Leo and the town drunk were very busy working to keep everything running from the repair shop.  Their son Kerry was starting his first year of Agriculture at the University of Saskatchewan.  Kerry was able to get me a room in the basement suite of a house where he rented a room just off 8th Street E and Taylor Street E.  The third room in the basement suite was rented by Ken who worked for CN.  On Sunday, Kerry gave me a ride into Toon Town and my new room.  There would be little riding time left that summer anyway, and the town drunks son was not going to have money for insurance.  It was a big moment for the town drunks son.  In the fall of 1978, I planned to study Economics and Political Science at the University of Saskatchewan (U of S).  I would be taking the bus for the first time in years.

I met my first punch card and monochrome monitor at the U of S.  I immediately became more interested in Computer Science than anything else, and I was good at math.  I immediately knew my Grandpa Godart was wrong about me being a lawyer when I was young in St. Brieux?  I started University 'studying' as if I had to consume all the knowledge therein, Now?  I studied hard to maintain my high school average at Fort Whoop Up on the Whoop Up Trail.  I studied in the dark, dingy, dank, but cheep basement suite.  It was perfect for forest and ice blue collar students with no budget, no food, no money, and big dreams.  My courses were going well in September, and I realized my high school marks were good enough to change my courses for my second term to Economics with a Computer Science minor for the next term.  You see, I touched a computer keyboard for the first time at the U of S, and I knew it was my Mr. Brownstone.  I would count my current courses towards a degree, and I would start taking much more Computer Science and Math next year.

Kerry and I had settled into higher education, then Sask Tel Bells rang with my mothers voice.  My mother was born a Louise Hashka, adopted at 4 years of age and renamed Lois Godart, married and renamed Lois Rohel, remarried and renamed Lois McCorriston, and finally remarried and renamed Lois Martinson.  This call came from my mother Lois Martinson, and she had tired off Harvey's Run from the twin ghosts at Fort Whoop Up where I finished Grade 12 in the spring.  She was leaving Harvey McCorriston.  My father was Henri Yves Joseph Rohel.  Henri or 'Hank' was better known as the town drunk.  He was my Mom's first husband.  It was late October, and she wanted to share a place with me in Toon Town.  You see, Mom had called her brother Jim Hashka, and Jim drove to Fort Whoop Up to meet her.  She persuaded him to take her 'Away' from Harvey's home on wheels in the Westside Trailer Court.  Suddenly, Mom was temporarily living with Jim in Saskatoon.  I agreed.  I went upstairs to talk to my jockey turned horse trainer landlord, since he was home from work at the racetrack Marquis Downs.  I explained that I had to give my notice, and I would be getting a different place.  Using the Saskatoon StarPheonix Classifieds Section, my Mom and I found nice, new, 2 bedroom apartment at 701 11th Street East, across the street from Nutana Collegiate.  I continued at the U of S, and we prepared to move into a new apartment.

My mother had a little money left over from her Fathers estate, my Grandpa Godart, and I assume my step father Harvey had pilfered the rest running from the twin ghosts.  Mom bought a little furniture for the apartment, and I enjoyed the 25 minute walk along University Drive to the U of S.  I enjoyed watching the girls my age walking home after their classes at Nutana Collegiate.  They were so happy, beautiful, and full of life.  I don't understand how guys without women can be gay?  The finer sex make life worthwhile.  Myself, I had lived in a home on wheels for most of the last six years.  Now, I was living in a 'real' apartment for the first time in my life!  That year I really did see a fat red devil in a red suit for Christmas.  My mother and I cooked a turkey for my brother Leo Rohel, when he stayed with us for Christmas.  Life can be like a bowl of cherries?  Just about the time the fat red devil in a red suit left the 'Berry Switch', my cherries lost their 'shine'.  Mom wanted to 'talk' to Harvey at Fort Whoop Up.  I was crushed.  In 1978, we borrowed Leo's 1974 Ford F-150 for the 632 km drive to Fort Whoop Up in late January.  We left after my Friday night class in February.

The land of forest and ice was cold, dark, and dry that night in early February.  It's the wind that hurt as we got in the truck.  I left Saskatoon on the Old Bones Trail on a southwest heading to the Pine Tree Line at Alsask SK.  We drove the east central badlands through Dinosaur Valley to Cow Town, aka Calgary AB.  We traveled east on the Cow Town trails, before we turned south towards the barracks of the North West Mounted Police on the Whoop Up Trail.  The once proud North West Mounted Police actually protected the forest and ice people from these barracks.  Finally, we turned east on the Crowsnest Trail to arrive at Fort Whoop Up for breakfast.  I was already adrenaline driving.  I knew what was going to happen.  I felt the future.  You know that feeling when something is going to happen.  It's going to happen, and you are going to have to shut up.  You shut up and you mind your own business?  There's nothing like a heartfelt slow burn to pump adrenaline.  Harvey rented a motel room on the east side of Fort Whoop Up, and I drove to the address provided.  When Harvey arrived, I gave them some privacy by going outside for a snack.  I came back in 10 minutes, and I could tell there had been a lively conversation.  I did my job which was primarily 'Shut up and mind my own business'.

I drove Mom back to Saskatoon during the day to arrive home in the late afternoon light in the land forests and ice.  My adrenaline pump crashed one I was home in the warm apartment.  Several days later, my Mom told me she had decided to give Harvey's Run and the twin ghosts another try in their home on wheels at Fort Whoop Up.  What could I do?  I returned to my classes, and Mom a few weeks later, Mom left a note as she left during the day while I was in class.  I guess it was easier.  I immediately contacted our new Building Manager to give my notice.  The real 2 bedroom apartment was outside of a town drunks son's budget, while he attempted a higher education.  In February, I returned Leo's truck, and I borrowed the town drunks Ford Econoline Van.  I packed the furniture from the apartment into the Van.  I found a darker, dingier, danker, muskier, and cheep basement room on University Drive which had been refused by all the other blue collar students.  It was perfect.  I parked the Van out front fully loaded.  I stayed alone.  I kept to myself.  I studied alone.  I liked solitude.  Fortunately, I was able finish my first year with close to an 80% average.  I knew a little more.  I wasn't a any smarter.  I was flat broke.  I needed to eat.

When we were young the forest and ice people were taught to 'get an education'.  We were told that an education would be the deciding factor between success or failure.  Well, I had passed near the top of each of my classes, and I was failing miserably at finding something to eat.  I called my landlord, and I returned my tarnished, rusted, sweat stained, old style room and door keys.  I drove the still fully loaded Econoline Van to St. Brieux SK.  I gave all the furniture to my brother Leo in St. Brieux SK.  Leo was no longer working at the Yamaha in Humboldt SK, instead he was working for Bourgault Industries in St. Brieux SK mounting tires in what used to be Uncle Remi's grocery store on the west side of St. Brieux SK.  I drove 'Away' from the Rocky Ridge Ranch with the empty Econoline Van to the Healy Farm in Ridgedale SK.  There, I parked the Econoline Van and I left the keys with the town drunk.  I prepared my RD400 Daytona Special for the rest of my trip.  First, I dropped the gear oil, and refilled the transmission case with fresh oil.  I topped up the engine oil tank, and I put installed the battery I kept warm inside the bunk house over the winter.  In April 1978, I grabbed my helmet and keys.

Yamaha RD400 Daytona Special

I was going to shiver it out in the land of forests and ice.  I started riding north on the dirt road to Highway 335, where I turned west.  I brought the cafe racer up on the power band, and I started with a nice wheelie.  This bike could lift a wheel like the race bikes.  I rode past Gronlid SK.  I rode south towards Melfort SK, where I filled up with fresh gas.  I rode northeast on Highway 6 past Kinistino SK, Weldon SK, and Birch Hills SK, before I arrived in Prince Albert SK.  It was cold to be riding in our land, so I shivered hard through Shellbrook SK, Shell Lake SK, Spiritwood SK, Glaslyn SK, Turtleford SK, and Paradise Hill.  The hill where I rode shotgun with Don in his truck 2 years ago, where I watched a man die.  I took the left on Highway 17 to Border City.  I continued south of Border City, where my sister Lorraine and her husband Gord Kobsar had a home on wheels near Lone Rock.  I arrived to enjoy a visit and a few beers in the mid afternoon.  I knew to travel during the high sun this time of the year.  I was still cold.  The land of forest and ice did not stress out my plan to earn enough money for another year at the U of S.  Border City was the Heavy Oil Capital of Canada.  I was going to get some of that Black Gold.  Surprisingly enough, Lorraine and Gord were the ones to stress out my plan.  They knew how hard and dangerous it was for a 'roughneck' on a drilling rig, and they encouraged me to find my Black Gold in other ways.  Gord said, "Denny, there not going to hire a 16 year old."

All was not lost!  Lorraine talked to her boss Ed King at Ed King Husky Bulk.  She was the companies bookkeeper / receptionist / phone order clerk.  She persuaded Ed to give me a chance driving fuel truck.  It really was the wild west to a 16 year old kid.  I wasn't drilling for oil, but I was in the oil business!  I rented a basement room in Lloydminster AB, and the town drunks son rode his Daytona Special back and forth to work.  I delivered fuel to farmers, businesses, service stations, and drilling rigs in the area with my fuel truck.  After a few weeks, I started doing the 'on call' deliveries to the rigs.  I turned 17 in June, and while I was always under age when I allowed myself a few beers at the Wayside Pub.  I also drank at the Pioneer Lounge, where I ran into a few guys from my town drunk son's childhood in St. Brieux SK.  Randy, Clinton, and Emery Piatt from St. Brieux SK were looking to make their Black Gold in the oil patch.  I gave notice on my basement bedroom, and I moved in with them at their apartment for August.  We shared a few good times, and I delivered a lot of fuel with my truck that summer.  Later in August, I made the mistake of lending Randy my bike.  He fell over with my RD400 on a beer run, and I thought about killing him.  I really should have killed him, then.

After Randy's accident, I claimed I was riding the bike with the Saskatchewan Government Insurance Organization (SGIO).  They agreed to fix the bike, and I left the bike at the Lloydminster Yamaha for repairs.  The Circumpolar Boreal Forest in Europe was chipped 'Away' many years ago.  In the land of forests and ice we were still in the fight Europeans now called deforestation.  I worked in the wet, thick, muddy, Boreal Forest which was always fighting back against the forest and ice people.  Water seamed to get in the way, and it froze to get in the way, again.  Once, I was pulled to a drilling rig with a D8 Cat through 2 - 4 centimetres of water covering mud.  Imagine the costs the Oil Companies were willing to endure to keep drilling.  Profit.  I learned very early on that the earth would turn anti clockwise if their was Profit in that happening.  That day, the Drilling Rid needed fuel.  That day, the drilling Rig gets fuel.  Profit.  The Cat operator drug the fuel truck into the drilling lease while I steered the truck 'floating' the undercarriage over the mud.  After pumping off my load, he drug me out of the lease.  Then, the cat driver waited with the semi trailer and cat while I tested the truck on the road.  The truck drove and shifted.  I followed Ed King's instructions, and I went directly to the Ford Dealership in Lloydminster for repairs.  It was a Friday afternoon, and they gave me a ride home.  Of course, this was not comparable to changing the direction of the earth.  I saw Profit puts a 'Drive' in people like not other illegal Drug.

The summer flew by in the best job I have ever enjoyed.  Part of my job was hauling 45 Imperial Gallon Barrels of Husky Oil to the rigs on my rear bumper deck.  I used a forklift to put the barrels on the deck.  Once on the drilling lease, I would climb up onto the deck on the back of the truck.  I would tip the 45 Gallon Barrels off the rear deck onto the ground.  I left them there for the gofer to roll to the oil shed.  I was on a muddy lease, and the Boreal Forest mud got gave under my boots.  Once on the deck, I pushed on my barrel, and I slipped.  I lost my balance, and I fell off the back of my truck with my 45 gallon barrel of oil.  Gravity was winning again!  The barrel and I were following gravity that day on the muddy rig site.  The balance, the spin, the slip, when gravity was finished, I landed in the mud, on my back, with my arms trying to hold one end of the barrel off my chest.  I did say trying?  I can't remember being quite that packed into the mud, since.  The gopher ran up to see if I was dead.  The gopher and I had big round eyes that day.  I was able to get up eventually, and he said 'You could have been killed'.  What happened.  I explained.  I went 'Away' feeling lucky to be alive.  Damn, I knew I was lucky to be alive.  I didn't feel right at all.  I went home and tried to sleep it off.  The Boreal Forest won.

Husky Oil Operations Bulk Fuel Truck

I made an appointment with a doctor late in August, after I felt abdominal pain.  I swear, I could feel intestines in my scrotum.  The doctor had a look, and he said I needed help.  I agreed.  I was diagnosed with a lower abdominal hernia.  It was bad.  I told the doctor it was likely because of moving the heavy barrels.  I was to ashamed to tell him about my accident.  I was to young to accept failure.  The learned doctors determined I should be in bed.  Instead, I worked another week for Ed King Husky Bulk, and I gave him my truck keys back while I thanked him for the summers work.  I told him it was the best job I have ever had.  He got thoughtful.  He offered me full time work if I decided 'higher learning' was not long in my future.  I thanked him, again.  I checked into the Border City Hospital Hotel for repairs.  I learned a lot at work and I learned about hospitals which I could remember.  I really, really, knew I was alive after the operation.  First, there is the waking.  That's out of the dream.  Second, there is the awakening.  The awakening really hurts.  You have to be conscious before they give you the Demerol shot which doesn't come in a glass.  I boarded the Racing Greyhound to Saskatoon 3 days after the operation to search for higher learning.

The Racing Greyhound dropped me off at the Saskatoon Bus Depot, with 18 cm of stitches in my lower abdominal.  I started my second year at the U. of S. in September 1978, and this year I stayed with my brother Leo.  I had my stitches taken out after settling into the U of S.  Leo was taking a Heavy Duty Mechanics course at Kelsey, and he was renting a 1 room loft on 33rd St. W. on Ave H..  He decided to let me stay with him, and I slept on a foamy on the floor.  I spent all my time at the U of S, or I slept on the floor.  Leo and I spent Christmas on the Rocky Ridge Ranch and the town drunk made his usual appearances.  Later in March, Leo finished his courses at Kelsey Technology Institute for his Heavy Duty Mechanic Certificate.  He went back to the Rocky Ridge Ranch, and he started working for Coquet Industries in the land of forests and ice.  He decided he wanted to live at the Rocky Ridge Ranch.  I finished my courses while staying in the loft over the next two months.  It was always all I could afford to buy books and pay tuition.  In the 1979, an education was already expensive for a town drunks son.  It was expensive for the blue collar worker to get a step up.  I needed to consider my finances.  I would have to talk to Leo.  We talked about Leo buying out my interest in the Rocky Ridge Ranch.

In the spring of 1979, the Credit Union in St. Brieux SK loaned Leo the money to buy my interest in the Rocky Ridge Ranch.  I used every single cent I received from Leo for my new home on wheels in Star Trailer Court in Saskatoon SK.  The 12 x 60 ft home on wheels was 10 years old.  I did pay a little to much, but the home on wheels was already on a lot.  The first thing I did was take a long walk around the neighbourhood.  I had the Husky Car / Truck Stop on the other side of the street on Idylwyld Drive N. and Circle Drive E..  Star Trailer Court was located behind the Firestone Tire which was directly on Circle Drive E.  My backyard and the rear end of my home on wheels was on 41 St E.  I walked from 41 St E. northward on Saskatchewan Avenue to the Railway Tracks.  I found a shortcut underneath the railway overpass to Mr. Submarine and the Esso Service Station with another restaurant on the east side of Idylwyld Drive N..  There was a McDonald's on the west side of Idylwyld Drive N. at 39 St W.  The Country Kitchen coffee shop was across the street from the McDonald's.  Then, I saw what I was looking for south of the Country Kitchen.  I walked to past the Quality Inn and I found the Saskatchewan Liquor Board Store at Idylwyld Drive North and 38 St W..  My new home on wheels was 2 long blocks or 3 short city blocks from the lowest price supplier of spirits and beer in this area of the land of forests and ice.

I decided to pick up 6 beer for the evening.  I entered the well stocked store.  I bought my six pack, and left using the front door on Idylwyld Drive N..  I turned right and right again to pick up snacks at the confectionery behind the Liquor Store.  While walking along the side of the Liquor Store I saw 4 or 5 nice bikes on the street.  I was still choked about Randy and my bike.  I could be riding?  I still had not made it back to Lloydminster to get my Daytona Special back from the Lloydminster Yamaha.  The bikes on the street looked mostly like Harley's, although some had been modified or chopped to hide their true colours.  Then, I saw the gate.  Then, I saw the 8ft fence.  Then, the dogs barked said hello.  I don't remember seeing a shingle on the building or the fence.  There was the usual KEEP OUT.  I the last two years at the U of S, I had seen the odd story in the newspapers or on television about the bikers in Saskatoon.  I was so busy getting smart, I didn't have time for motocross or riding or local news.  Of course, this has to be the Clubhouse for the Bikers.  Well imagine that?  I had moved in just north of the biker club they talk about whenever they need to blame bikers for something.  What were they called?  Seriously, I didn't know.

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Then, you could be flipping burgers?

Now, the ghosts, the dead, the Punished, and the Punishers!

       Saskatoon or Toon Town the home of the University of Saskatchewan and the Daytona Special at Border City Heavy Oil Capital of Canada

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