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     In the beginning was the bike, and the bike was with rider, and the rider formed the club.  Not long ago on the Kanto Plain in the Land of the Rising Sun an entity was born.  It was in the form of a motorcycle club that does honor to all aficionados of the two-wheeled conveyance.  This rendition of the birth, life and death of an organization unique in character known as the Camp Zama Motorcycle Club (ZMC) is a tribute in honor of its memory.  It is gone now, but once it lived and roamed the highways and byways of Japan

     The club founder’s first name is Larry, an African American soldier formerly stationed in Japan, whose last name is lost in the shadows of history.  He was a Harley rider and a wild seed, but he loved to ride.  He, and fellow riders of the same ilk and with the same brand of bikes, founded the ZMC during 1978. It was established as a private association and was chartered and sanctioned by the US Army Garrison Honshu Commander and US Army Japan/IX Corps at Camp Zama, Japan.  The camp is located thirty kilometers south of Tokyo at Sagamihara in Kanagawa Prefecture on the Kanto Plain of the main island of Honshu.  The common thread that brought these folks together was their love of motorcycling.  Recognition by camp officials authorized them the use of garrison facilities, including an old wooden building at Sagami Depot some thirty minutes’ drive from Zama.  This building became their clubhouse and repair facility.  The original members equipped it with salvaged furnishings, workbenches and a pool table.  This facility served the members well during the club’s nearly fifteen years of existence.  The club logo and colors were displayed within the clubhouse and embroidered on the vests worn over our jackets or leathers.  The original logo, ZMC letters connecting white wings, was later changed to the US Stars and Stripes and Japanese Rising Sun encircled with appropriate inscriptions to complete our colors.  Larry and the early members initiated all these things and bequeathed them to their successors. As the years passed and new members joined, the character and texture of the club changed as well. The diverse membership of the ZMC over the years led to the rise of the “rice cooker,” the Japanese motorcycle, as their machine of choice.  This preference changed the character of the club from a “Harleyesque” nature to an international texture along with an altered image.  The maverick image mellowed to a gentler, more organized and disciplined image.  Instead of a rough tool, the club honed itself into a fine precision instrument as roving ambassadors of good will for the US and Japan. 

     As truckers in the states used to be, the ZMC riders evolved into true “knights of the road.”  Led by men like Dave Newman, club president during 1982/83, Harry New, his road captain and army civilian employee at Sagami Depot, Vice-President Glen Keener, an intelligence detachment civilian employee, Treasurer Dan Reyes, a Non-Commissioned Officer with Garrison Honshu, and Secretary Bruce Lucas, the club refined its constitution, by laws and developed a group riding guide (rules of the road for formation flying).  Club officers inspected for appearance of bike, rider and equipment prior to each ride.  We were briefed on route, destination address, telephone numbers, and emergency procedures.  We rode according to the rules but took advantage of every legal loophole, such as split-lane driving and curb crawling.  We used the staggered formation on group rides and arm, hand and light signals to convey commands to the formation.  Dave Newman once said that our club was unique because “its riders would ride anytime, anywhere during any weather (including typhoons).”  Glen Keener noted that the uniqueness of equality extended to all ranks, military and civilian, all races, religions and nationalities.  It was a level playing field for all concerned, and that’s what made it “a great club.”  The club included military and civilian members and was bilateral in that we had both Japanese and US members; it was multi-racial and ecumenical (multi-denominational); it was a harmonious melting pot that defied the ugly American image and was a living example of tolerance and the golden rule.  Keener was fond of saying, “It ain’t only where we’re goin’, it’s how we get there that’s important.”  He enforced this doctrine during his reign as president, vice-president and later, as road captain.  The list of abiding club members was an illustrious one that included men and women from various units and agencies.  They drove a multitude of different motorcycles, models and displacements from Yamaha to Honda and Suzuki to Kawasaki.  Some of these riders are mentioned herein by name; my apologies are offered to those worthy folks who are not.

     The ZMC rode according to an annual schedule developed by Harry New, Ken Hirano and others.  Our shortest motorcycle trips were day rides to nearby areas such as Yamanaka and the five lakes region at the foot of Mount Fuji during June, Hakone National Park and Lake Ashi in October, the beach on the Sea of Japan for New Year’s sunrise, and a family picnic along the river at Tanzawa Prefecture Park during May.  Our longest trips included a seven-day journey to Kyushu, the southern island of Japan, and a nine-day venture to Hokkaido, the northern island.  These excursions required ferryboat rides across the straits.  Two members who enjoyed these long rides were Jack Owen and Chuck Cash.  Both of these bigger-than-life individuals were dynamic and charismatic presidents, road captains or other club officials during the mid to late 80’s and early 90’s.  Both were Japanese linguists.  Jack, a Lieutenant Colonel in the intelligence detachment, was the quiet intellectual type and our chief navigator.  Charlie, an army Master Sergeant in intelligence, was our colorful and flamboyant point man on the rides.  He rode by the seat of his pants and dead reckoning.  Both were excellent riders.  We knew when it was time to assume formation and move because of Charlie’s “on the road again” exhortation.  Jack advised that we follow his navigational instructions by reminding us “we rode with our hearts, while he rode with his head.”  Then off we would go on one of our many overnight rides to Suwa Lake during May, gateway to the Japanese Alps and home to one of the best Minshukus (Japanese inn) in Japan, or Shimoda in June with its white sands beaches and Black Ship on the Izu Peninsula, or Nikko through Tokyo to the mountains and the famous Kegon Falls and Chuzenji Lake in September.  There were weekend trips to Hida-Takayama in the Japanese Alps during October to view the change of seasons, the Chiba Peninsula in November with its great bikers’ roads, the strawberry picking run to Shizuoka in February, the Fertility Festival at Inuyama (Nagoya) during March and the cherry blossom viewing trip to Okutama Lake during April.  We took other trips to various destinations during the year.  Besides the joy of riding, despite dense traffic in the urban areas of the Kanto Plain, the narrow roads, the deep benjo ditches (gutters) adjacent to the roadside, the detours due to mudslides or washed out bridges in the mountains, the wind and rain of typhoons or sleet and snow of winter storms, we were “knights of the road” and roving ambassadors on all our rides.  That is what made us proud to be members of the ZMC.  We made friends along the way, which added to the joy of riding.

     The enjoyment continued with our overnight stops at the minshukus that rented Japanese-style rooms, provided meals and bathing facilities to travelers.  We’d top-off our tanks at the end of the day, wash and park our bikes, and head for the “Ofuro” (Japanese style bath).  Nothing felt better than a steaming hot communal bath to sooth sore muscles and swap yarns at day’s end.  Then we would eat, drink and sing karaoke music until we felt no pain.  Thereafter, we crawled into our futon beds and slept soundly ’till dawn, when we awoke, ate and were soon on the road again. If it were a Sunday, we tried to find religious services for those who wanted to attend.  That was no mean task in a country that is only two percent Christian.  Many times, Jack  (Mormon), Chuck (Catholic) or Glen (Protestant) would pilot our would-be worshipers (all denominations) to the right church if one could be found along our route.  This is what made the club tolerant and ecumenical. It was during one of these quests that the ZMC discovered a small Franciscan mission at Saku, Japan, attended services, and established a tradition that lives on to this day.  The tradition is the Thanksgiving Day meal celebrated at the mission.  Each Thanksgiving Day since the ZMC discovered the mission and met Father Gabriel Alba, a Columbian Catholic Priest of the Franciscan Order, members of USARJ bring the makings up to Saku and prepare the meal to celebrate with the padre and his small staff.  Now, non-bikers from Camp Zama carry on the tradition.  It is the only legacy left to posterity by the ZMC.

     The club supported its members through two events held at Camp Zama each year.  They were the 4^th of July and Bon Odori (Japanese equivalent of All Souls day).  The ZMC operated a refreshment booth and gave motorcycle rides at these events.  A percentage of the proceeds was paid back to the Camp Zama community while the remainder went into the club treasury.  These events provided revenue to pay for bike trips, club bills, scholarships and other expenses during the year.  Minshuku rental, expressway tolls or other costs for each trip were paid by the club.  The rest was paid out of pocket by each rider.  Funds were sufficient during the good years but not the bad ones.

     The bad years started about 1990 when the Japanese economic bubble burst.  The economy kept going downhill thereafter.  The cost of bikes, insurance, road and ferryboat tolls, gasoline and minshukus increased due to an unfavorable dollar/yen exchange rate. Reassigned members left the club and returned to the states; few new riders joined.  Club membership dropped from 42 bikes (about 55 family members) during the ’80’s to 12 bikes (about 18 family members) by ‘92.  Only four or five riders of those who were left participated in club rides.  Morale plummeted to an all time low.  The declining economy, lack of funds, no new riders, and low morale led to the end of the ZMC by October of 1992.  We took one final ride, conducted our termination meeting, closed the clubhouse doors for the last time and turned in the key for the ZMC.   Once vibrant with life, the ZMC is now dead and gone.  There are no monuments dedicated to it; there are few reminders that it ever existed.  Yet, the memory of “The Rise and Fall of the ZMC” lives on in the hearts and minds of its former members.  “Sayonara” ZMC.

By Dennis W. Lid

     If you enjoyed the above article, you’re ‘gonna love the book entitled First to Last - The Tale of a Biker by Dennis W. Lid.  It will be available in print book version during July 2007 from Amazon.com or a book store near you (Barnes and Noble, Borders, etc.).  The printed book is published by CCB Publishing, BC, Canada for world-wide distribution under ISBN 978-0-9781162-9-3; the e-Book is already published as of 2006 and available from Digital Pulp Publishing, ByteIt Press Imprint, Palm Springs, California under seperate ISBN  9781933746128 for download to your e-Book reader or computer.  Retail price for the print book is $14.95 USD; the e-Book is $8.95 USD.  There’s more information about the book and author on three web sites as follows:  www.dennislid.com, www.ccbpublishing.com and www.digitalpulppublishing.com.   Have a really rousing read and enjoy it. 

Here’s what to look for:

See it on my web site and click on it.

Skid Lid