I’m Starting a Motorbike Gang… But With Mobility Scooters.

At a certain age, a man begins to reassess his life choices. 

Some people take up gardening. Some take up birdwatching. Some begin referring to their dog as their “fur child,” which is a cry for help. But me? I’ve decided to start a motorbike gang. A proper one. Leather jackets, intimidating stares, the whole thing.

There is, however, one small twist:  

My gang will ride mobility scooters.

Now, before you judge, let me explain. Motorbikes are loud, dangerous, and require balance, which I lost sometime around 1998. Mobility scooters, on the other hand, are quiet, comfortable, and come with cup holders. CUP HOLDERS. You show me a Harley with a cup holder and I’ll show you a man who has given up on the concept of masculinity.

The first step in forming a scooter gang is branding. You need a name that strikes fear into the hearts of pedestrians. Something like The Silver Cyclones or The Geriatric Thunder. I personally favour The Rolling Menace, because it sounds like a Marvel villain who forgot his medication.

Next, you need leather jackets. Traditional biker jackets are covered in patches that say things like “Born to Ride” or “Live Free or Die.” Ours will say things like “Mind the Kerb” and “Fully Charged Since 7AM.” We will also have a patch that reads “0–4 mph in 12 seconds,” because accuracy matters.

Then comes the recruitment phase. You’d think it would be hard to convince people to join a scooter gang, but you’d be wrong. All you have to do is stand outside a pharmacy and shout, “WHO WANTS PRIORITY PARKING AND A SENSE OF PURPOSE?” and suddenly you’re surrounded by retirees moving faster than they have in years.

Of course, every gang needs a signature move. Motorbike gangs have wheelies, burnouts, and the ability to look cool while wearing sunglasses indoors. Mobility scooter gangs, however, specialise in something far more impressive: synchronised reversing. You have not known true majesty until you’ve seen twelve scooters simultaneously beeping their way out of a Tesco Express car park like a herd of extremely polite dump trucks.

We will also develop a terrifying manoeuvre known as The Slow Encirclement, where we surround our target at a blistering 2 mph until they either surrender or die of boredom.

Now, you might be wondering: What about turf wars?  

Excellent question.

Traditional biker gangs fight over territory, honour, and who gets to wear the jacket with the biggest skull on it. Mobility scooter gangs, however, fight over far more important things, like who gets the closest table to the café radiator. Our battles will be fierce, but also very slow, and occasionally paused for bathroom breaks.

Another key element is customisation. Real bikers modify their engines to make them louder. We will modify ours to make them quieter, because some of us have tinnitus and don’t need the help. We will add flags, LED underlighting, and possibly a small basket for snacks. A true warrior must never be more than arm’s length from a packet of custard creams.

Finally, we must discuss the open road. There is nothing like the thrill of cruising down the pavement at a steady, responsible pace, wind gently ruffling your hair (or what’s left of it), passers‑by leaping aside in mild confusion as your gang approaches like a stampede of determined tortoises.

So yes  I’m starting a motorbike gang with mobility scooters. Is it dangerous? No. Is it cool? Also no. But is it practical, comfortable, and likely to terrify absolutely no one?

Absolutely.

And honestly, at this stage in life, that feels like victory.