Armenia's Hye Riders Take to the Roads

[May 22, 2006]

YEREVAN, Armenia -- It's midday on a typical Saturday towards the end of May, and after a cold and almost dehabilitating winter, Armenia has started to come alive. Government officials and their business associates or relatives have already started to open up the scores of cafes that have decimated Yerevan's parks and green areas, and as the heat increases, hemlines have already started to get shorter. Soon the city will be awash with the colors dictated by the latest "fashion."

Which must make a dozen Armenians dressed from head to toe in black leather seem odd to a population that considers evening dress wear and pointed walking shoes the norm for everyday apparel. Of course, the leather-clad group of men assembling by the side of a road leading down into Yerevan's Hrazdan Gorge are not your average Armenian. The motorcycles resting on their side stands give that one away.

Most have the coat of arms of the Republic of Armenia stitched on the back of their jackets with the words "Hye Riders MC Club" framing the emblem of the country in which they were born. A film crew from Dar 21 shoots the group as they assemble around their leader, 47-year-old Norayr Martirosian, who will soon inform them of the day ahead. Not only has the winter been and gone, but it is also the first day of the motorcycling season.

After the prep talk that will outline the route the 12 bikes will take around the city before departing for the birthplace of Mesrop Mashtots, creator of the Armenian alphabet, in Oshagan, and later the former health resort town of Arzni, the sound of four-stroke motorcycle engines fills the air. Touring the central streets of Yerevan, heads turn and some pedestrians, especially children, smile. Only a few onlookers seem shocked by the sight of a dozen bikers riding down the road.

The Hye Riders are the local chapter of the motorcycle club (MCC) with the same name founded seven years ago in the United States by Armenian-American biker Berj Kasbarian. According to Martirosian, Hye Riders has over 50 members in the United States now, as well as over two dozen members in France and Syria combined. A year ago, Martirosian formed the Hayastan branch, which now boasts 15 members.

Martirosian has been riding bikes for over 25 years, and could best be described as a typical biker. An architect by profession, he says that the situation in Armenia, while improving, is nothing like it was in the former Soviet period when it comes to motorcycles. Although an expensive Honda dealership has now opened up on Yerevan's central Abovian Street to cater for the "new money" in Armenia, motorcycles are still a rare and uncommon sight even in the capital.

"When everything in the Soviet era was forbidden, Armenians, and especially the youth, were more united and whatever was forbidden seemed sweeter," he says from beneath his gray but striking beard when asked why there are no fewer motorcycles in Armenia. "This included Levi jeans, Pink Floyd discs, and everything else such as long hair. Some other lifestyle was born, many people became shallow, and everything was lost. I have a deep pain because of this."

Indeed, explains Martirosian, a guiding principle for the Hye Riders MCC is patriotism, which is why the club opened the biking season with a ride to the birthplace of Mesrop Mashtots. "We hold about seven or eight special rides annually," he says, "and one of the purposes of holding such rides is to focus the attention of the public towards the places that we ride to. We feel responsible for paying tribute to figures such as Sevak, Njdeh, Minas and Komitas."

Despite this, however, most Armenians stereotype bikers in much the same way as anywhere else in the world. Add to that the problem of bad roads, poor quality petrol, a lack of spare parts, and chaotic driving, it's amazing that Martirosian has any club at all. And although it is rarely enforced, he also says that an archaic law forbidding more than three or four motorcycles from riding, or even parking, together exemplifies the attitude of officials towards bikers.

With as many as 50 percent of bikes in the club being built from scratch, or certainly customized, members of the Hye Riders also face difficulties in registering their bikes. Three such members are 36-year-old Samuel Karapetyan and his brother Vahan who, along with their friend Tigran Hovsepyan, builds custom bikes from old Soviet motorcycle and car engines to such a high quality that many of their contemporaries in the West would foam at the mouth.

The bikes costs anywhere from $1,500 to upwards of $2,500 to build.

"We're using whatever we have," explains Karapetyan at his home in the village of Marmarashen located 20 minutes outside of Yerevan. "However, if we were to have the possibilities and parts available outside of Armenia we could produce bikes of a far higher quality that those made [outside in the West]. We can't order those parts or engines because they're too expensive."

But, according to Martirosian, perhaps the greatest problem facing the future of the biking scene in Armenia is the lack of young riders.

Most adolescent youth in Yerevan, for example, dream of owning a Mercedes or Hummer, and the lifestyle of a biker appears to face tough competition from that of the "new elite" when individuality seems to have lost out to following what many consider to be a collective and blinkered crowd. Karapetyan, however, believes that things might slowly be changing.

"In the past, parents wouldn't let their children even look at a bike, but now they don't object if a kid wants to get a motorcycle," he says. "If years ago, parents were forbidding their children to ride, now they're just telling them to be careful. Slowly things are changing and people are understanding that a motorcycle is not a bad thing. Regardless of whether you ride a bike or drive a car, if you're not careful you're going to have an accident." Areg Harutyunian, the latest intake into the Hye Riders MCC, perhaps represents that small segment of Armenian youth who are less influenced by peer pressure and more by individual taste and preference. "When I first wanted to get a bike I waited all day to tell my father that I wanted a motorcycle," remembers 21-year-old Harutyunian. "If he refused, I planned to get one anyway by my own means, even if it meant leaving home."

"So When my father came back that evening," he continues, "he was in a really good mood and I told him that I had a request. His response was 'anything except a motorcycle.'"

The young biker couldn't be convinced otherwise, and his father eventually decided to introduce him to Norayr Martirosian. That was three years ago, and Harutynian has been riding ever since. "[The Hye Riders are] interested in riding and not showing off," he says, adding that it also gives him the opportunity to be part of a group of like-minded people. "There's something about motorcycles that I like, but it can't really be explained in words," he says. "Perhaps It's simply the feeling of freedom."

Meanwhile, the Hye Riders have already found that there's not even a single cup of coffee to be found in the nearby of village of Ashtarak, and a group of local children watch them as they ride their iron steeds of the potholed Armenian highways onto the former resort town of Arzni. As the roar of their engines fades in the distance, there's no doubt that a few of those kids probably wanted to join them. Time will tell if any will.

Text and Photos by Onnik Krikorian