Ha! Sirius - the Hell's Angels used to ride right past our place every 4th of July weekend doing all kinds of stunts on a short straight stretch - standing up on their seats 70mph, handstands on their handlebars, wheelies of course, no helmets then - until one of them skidded and broke his neck on a barbed wire fence post. That stopped that for good. And back then they had a deserved reputation for raping girls around the lakefront resort, so some of the locals posted signs that if they left the campground, they'd be shot on sight, and meant it. Then they had a falling out with the local Indians when they decided to become a white only biker club. Several of them got knifed to death in the local Indian bar, and another was burned out of his cabin and killed. So they stopped coming around altogether. Later, the son of the bar owner would hang out in our yard on the other side of the River. Nobody in that family would even enter their own bar during business hours - too dangerous.
That's was also the time of the Mongols splitting off from them and the long war between the two gangs. The funeral of one of the original Hells Angels founders, killed in that bar melee with the Mongols in Winnemucca Nevada, involved hundreds of them going down the freeway here, then across the Bridge to the Colma Cemetery. I was one of the commuters who had to work my way through that. Plenty of motorcycle cops too, watching their every move and on the lookout for Mongols. Now the Mongol logo is officially banned in most Western States; and the Hells Angels have had to hire PR lawyers in order to become a legitimate proper meth cartel. They've expanded internationally in that role, and largely control the central Calif. meth trade. But hey, they also do Christmas toy drives for needy kids ...
Nobody was allowed to chop a Harley when the Hells Angels were around or they'd go after them. One could ride a dressed Harley; or the high school kids would chop Triumph motorcycles instead. I once had a Hells Angel living across the street in this area. He was accountant by day and a thug just on weekends. Nice yard with flower boxes, mowed lawn, nice wife. The big pseudo-thug Harley rallies over in Bridgeport on 395 each summer forbid any actual Hells Angels or Mongols from attending - only the make-believe kind. The town cops hand out plenty of citations for boob exposure or guys urinating on the side of the road; but all the fees go to the local school. They typically get there over Sonora Pass - a darn cold ride late in the evening.
Can't comment much on Easy Rider with Peter Fonda. There is just so much in that classic movie that could have hypothetically been true. I've met a number of exactly those types, during that era, bragging about their dope smuggling tactics from Mexico; and some of them met a similar fate in an unwelcoming rural area, or due to some shady Sheriff who didn't appreciate the competition.
If people knew what really went on in some of those small "Boss Hogg" towns .... One had its own mountain airstrips specifically for the Sheriff's dope flights (he's now deceased).
And I still have earlier childhood memories of motorcyle gangs riding Indian cycles, with them all lined up in a row outside seedy bars, ala The Wild One with Marlon Brando, based on a true event in Earlimart in the San Joaquin Valley. I forget who took the shots of that which made their way into life magazine and inspired the movie itself. I still have a small burn scar on my leg from a tipped over Mustang cycle, a sort of low-slung chug-chug version of the single-cylinder Indian, when it slipped crossing a creek.
