Bikers in Bloomington

An estimated 3,000 bikers roared through the streets of Bloomington this weekend.\nBut all hell didn't break loose.\nThe Indiana chapter of the Harley Davidson Owners Group staged its annual state rally this weekend, which is billed as a family-oriented event.\nIt kicked off Saturday afternoon with a parade through Bloomington's main thoroughfares, attracting several gawkers. The bikers convened at the parking lot of the Showers Building, where they held events such as slow races, in which the object is to cross the finish line last.\n"We're trying to change the image of bikers," said coordinator Sandra Hunt. "We find that a lot of people fear us. We're just lawyers, doctors, Indian chiefs, factory workers, just like anybody else. It's just about the feeling of freedom."\nHunt's father, a retired motorcycle officer in Illinois, instilled a love for the highway in her. Like everyone there, she had a horror story about a motorist cutting her off on a left turn.\n"Yeah, I've slid out before," said Hunt, who rides a 1981 shovelhead model. "I've dropped bikes before. The idiots don't care if they break your neck."\nIndianapolis Police Sgt. J.B. McAtee understands where she's coming from. He's a motorcycle officer who's coached the force's 17-member motorcycle drill team for nearly two decades.\n"I don't give bikers breaks more than I would anyone else," he said. "But I deal with what they do on the road."\nThe IPD's drill team -- good will ambassadors for the City of Indianapolis -- performed downtown Saturday, to the delight of the hundreds of bikers gathered. They were cheered on as they formed figure eights and performed stunts like standing on the seat of the bike or coming to an abrupt stop.\nMcAtee considers himself a motorcycle enthusiast. Although his Harley is owned by taxpayers, he's invested more than $3,500 out his own pocket into it.\n"I add chrome whenever I can," he said. "I want it to look as good as anyone's bike out there. It's not required -- but it's something I take pride in."\nMany enthusiasts flocked to the gathering from faraway places just for the feel of the open road. James "Lone Wolf" Neal, a long-haired, shirtless manufacturer with a fully-tattooed torso, only came down from Indianapolis.\nBut Neal, who drives a high-maintenance 1977 ironhead model, hits the road every weekend -- he's driven to such distant locales as Ft. Lauderdale, Fla., and San Diego on whims. He works on his bike every day and considers bikers with newer models "yuppies."\n"I can't get enough of the freedom of the wind blowing in my hair," he said. "I've just always been a lone wolf. I ain't the type to join anything -- not even the Boy Scouts. \n"I'm just out to help people, other bikers that have motor trouble. That, and raise hell, drink beer and have fun"