Left to right: Miller, Sonny, Tex, Rick, Tim, Grant and Casey

Pictured above are some members of a group known as the Black Widows, a gang of Fort Smith, Arkansas, guys who’ve been friends for decades, and whose common bond is Harley-Davidson. Traveling together to rallies and sharing in many misadventures over the years, they decided to name themselves after the inept biker gang in Clint Eastwood’s film Every Which Way But Loose. “You know, they were the guys who tried to look cool, but kept knocking over their bikes,” laughed Tex, a Widow from way back.

The Black Widows have a secret lair in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and it’s a web of wonder. Seriously, it’s probably one of the most incredible man caves in the world. They get together there for parties, both mild and wild, to listen to some of the musical acts that pass through town, or to just hang out. Last Saturday, I was invited to attend a Black Widow Feed, which featured live music, beer o’ plenty, and enough racks of ribs to feed a small nation. It was hard to eat, because my jaw kept dropping at the splendor of the Black Widow warehouse. Housed in a huge structure called the Fort Smith Barn, the place is a playground for bikers, their friends and families.

The walls are covered with flags, antique metal signs and biker memorabilia. There is a stage for musicians, a foosball table, a kitchen/bar area, and enough seating to give even the hardest-partying bikers a place to rest. Suspended from the ceiling are Japanese lanterns, antique toy wagons, a rotating, working miniature motorcycle, and a huge neon guitar festooned with Christmas lights. A huge projection screen displays an ongoing slide show of the Black Widows and their past adventures. Of course, there are spiders and spider webs everywhere, including a huge one that hangs above the stage, and a metal one over the bar.

Outside, people gathered at picnic tables and around the fire pit. Next to the Barn sits a huge blue tour bus that the Widows have used to travel to far away rallies, and a restaurant-sized barbecue smoker. The clubhouse is surrounded by trees and fields and flowers. A couple of dogs formed a friendship as a toddler bounced on a toy horse. Widows, wives and friends talked and laughed and relaxed by the fire.

Canadian singer and musician Linda McRae performed onstage, entertaining everyone with her banjo picking, guitar playing and roots music renditions. During one of her breaks, a grizzled, beery biker (a Black Widow, I presume) took the stage and told stories and jokes to the appreciative audience.

I learned a few things about the Black Widows during the course of the evening. They travel together to rallies and races, participate in parades and charitable events, and last summer they rode their Harleys to Anamosa, Iowa, to visit the National Motorcycle Museum. “It was really just a good excuse for a road trip,” one of them said. The Widows induct new members once a year, around Christmastime. There’s no formal announcement, no engraved invitation. “If you’re in, you just know you’re in,” one of them told me. Some bikers hang around the Widow warehouse for years before becoming “official” members, and compatibility is key. The guys try not to take themselves too seriously, and the main rule of the club is that “there are no rules.” One of the members joked that the Widow with the biggest belly is automatically deemed president of the group. “We change presidents all the time,” he laughed.

The Black Widows are a friendly, crazy crew of Harley brothers, who get together for friendship, riding, socializing and helping their community. Some of their bikes will be featured in upcoming articles, and you can read more about them here. I’m just hoping I get invited to visit their man cave again soon. You can read more about them here.