Mike "Flash" Flaherty was only on hand to win the Iron Butt title. On a chilly and damp October Sunday, Cruiser Club Boston met at the Honey Dew on Lowell Street in Wakefield for its last official ride for the season, and Flaherty had some other place to be. But he couldn't miss the final odometer reading if he wanted the title.

The Honey Dew -- known as "the Dew" -- is a biker hangout, and the management isn't shy about it. There's the sign reading "We Welcome Motorcycles!" And, less subtly, the life sized inflatable biker guarding the drive through -- a grim reaper on a Harley, equal parts Ghost Rider and hooded friar.

"He's the new guy," John Thorpe explained.

Thorpe, the Cruiser Club President, had won the Iron Butt for three years running and knew that competition from Flaherty would be stiff. So, when Flaherty arrived and took a cruise around the parking lot, Thorpe was suspicious. The Iron Butt is a cash prize awarded to the rider who covered the most miles during the season (April 22-October 7, this year), and any extra ticks on the odometer could be the difference between Iron Butt and also-ran.

Cruiser Club Boston began in 2003 when a group of Boston and North Shore cyclists sought an alternative to the fractious politics of Massachusetts's existing clubs. Most motorcycle clubs will only allow riders who own a certain make of vehicle -- Harley or Honda, for example -- to join. But Cruiser Club Boston, like its parent, Cruiser Club USA, will accept anyone.

"We don't care what you ride," said Laura Fall, Club Secretary and Photographer. "We aren't biased about your sex, your religion, or anything."

In fact, most clubs are biased about the sex of their members. In other clubs, women participate only as girlfriends, riding on the back of the bike. But women are not only members of Cruiser Club; they are vital to its success.

Cathy White is the Cruiser Club Road Captain. A woman with closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair and a tight-lipped expression of perpetual bemusement, White is said to have been born riding a motorcycle, an assessment that she denies. "I was probably about eight years old," she said. White plans the Club's rides and events, tracing elaborate routes along New England's back roads and finding unique destinations. She emphasizes riding through undiscovered territory, and trips that would take ten minutes on the interstate can be stretched out for hours.

"I've lived here all my life," Thorpe said, "but until I started following Cathy, I never got to know New England."

Laura Fall is a woman who does ride on the back of a bike -- Thorpe's -- but not because she can't ride her own. Fall documents each Cruiser Club ride with a brilliant series of photos, many of the best taken in motion from the back of Thorpe's red Harley. She likes her photos to tell a story -- to trace a ride from its beginning to its end.

And it's a popular story. When new members join the Club, they invariably mention the photo galleries on the webpage. "The photos are the key to the whole thing," said Thorpe, who might be biased. (In fact, it was Fall who got Thorpe into motorcycles in the first place. "It gave us something to do together," she explained.)

Back at the Dew, White finished the tally. Flaherty had the Iron Butt by a margin of 9,540 miles to Thorpe's 9,302. That spin around the parking lot hadn't made the difference after all. Thorpe was in good spirits about his loss. A three year reign as Iron Butt is a feat in itself, and, besides, there was the ride ahead to look forward to. The destination was Wolf Hollow in Ipswich, and Thorpe could break in his newest accessory, a panel for the side of his bike painted with flames.

Thorpe's bike is a red Harley Davidson, a 100th Anniversary Firefighters Edition Classic. Harley introduced the bike after 9/11 and made it available only to jakes like Thorpe. He keeps the bike clean and polished, stopping during rides to clear off any road grime, and its waxy shine gives no hint of the thousands of miles Thorpe has put it through.

A love for the machinery is an undeniable attraction for bikers. Jim Donnelly, a relative newcomer to the Club, said that when he first got his bike he "felt like a kid on Christmas morning." He put his golf clubs in the attic and now, like most of his fellow members, spends his spare time on his bike, a black Harley. Donnelly, who works in the airline industy, travels widely. When he meets people on his trips wearing Harley shirts, he makes instant friends.

The reputation of bikers precedes the club. While riding to Ipswich, the group was greeted by fist pumps and cheers when passing men playing football in the yard with their boys. And there is the dubious pleasure the group takes when they clear out a Dunkin' Donuts on looks alone. But the more negative biker stereotypes don't quite fit this club.

"Every year there is a Hawaiian theme ride to the North Shore," Thorpe explained, "and when we get there, everyone thinks we are a bunch of Hell's Angels or something, until they see we're all in these Hawaiian shirts."

It isn't just the dress that sets the Cruiser Club apart from their more infamous colleagues: the Cruiser Club stresses safe riding, giving a safety briefing before every ride. They don't ride drunk and they don't do anything stupid. It doesn't hurt that most of the members are in their thirties or forties and less inclined toward wildness. It's a fact that's euphemised with the phrase "family friendly" on the Cruiser Club website.

But being careful drivers is not the only thing the Cruiser Club does to benefit society. LIke many biker groups, the Cruiser Club participates in benefit rides. Their cause is improving spinal cord research, and the club has a personal stake in the matter -- one of their own, Midge Dawicki, was paralyzed two years ago while working in her yard. Since her injury, the Cruiser Club has hosted the "Miles for Midge" ride, collecting money to offset Dawicki's considerable medical costs and to support spinal cord research programs and legislation. (Midge still meets up with the group during their rides. She arrived at Wolf Hollow with her boyfriend in her "Chariot," a van equipped with a wheelchair lift, paid for by Miles for Midge.)

Donnelly estimates that biker clubs in Eastern Massachusetts raise somewhere in the neighborhood of $3 million annually for charitable causes. "So if you see 400 bikes with a police escort," he explained, "please be patient; it's probably a charity ride."

A gallery of the 10/07/07 ride to Ipswich (including images of a hardworking Bostonist) can be found here.

Cruiser Club Boston rides every week from April until October, with cook-outs and other gatherings thrown in for good measure. First-time membership is $30/yr. Potential members must own a ride-appropriate bike (i.e. no minibikes) and have basic motorcycle competency.