Streeter: Dirt bikers deserve a peaceful place to exist in Baltimore

I vividly remember the first time I saw the dirt bike riders. Actually, I heard them before I saw them.

I was near the intersection of North Wolfe and Orleans streets, driving with my kid, who was maybe 6 or 7. There was an overwhelming onslaught of endless revving engines and disorienting lights zooming by, at once intimidating and thrilling, dangerous and impressive.

Not long after we watched them zoom into the night, my son asked for a dirt bike — an immediate “No.” Six years later, I’m still resolute to never buy him one, and I don’t really like the idea of him ever buying one for himself, because he’s my baby.

But to paraphrase writer Evelyn Beatrice Hall in her writing about Voltaire, I may not agree with my kid riding a dirt bike, but I will defend to the death his or anyone else’s right to.

A couple dozen people from various community organizations conducted what they called a peace walk to Baltimore City Hall last week to fight for the right to ride dirt bikes on city streets, which is illegal, as is even owning them if they are fueled and ready to go. I think that’s ridiculous. I believe dirt bike riders should be allowed to have their own designated spaces — something B-360, which uses dirt bike culture to introduce STEM skills and community engagement to local youth, has advocated for years and received money to support.

Once this happens, the next step should be to find an eventual path to regulated on-road riding.

Rashad Staton, the executive director of Community Law in Action who advocates for B-360, considers dirt bike culture “part of my family legacy” and takes its targeting very personally.

He said he recalled a conversation with a retired state official “who told me, ‘Dirt bike riding is illegal because it’s young Black men, and because they [lawmakers] haven’t been able to figure out how to control it yet.’ To control it, monetize it and insure it. Those are the gateways.”

Dayvon Love, director of public policy for Leaders of a Beautiful Struggle, a Baltimore-based grassroots think tank dedicated to advancing policy benefitting the local Black community, told me that “as long as Black folks are being inherently coded as criminal, that criminality is coded onto Black dirt bike culture.”

Very true. And it sucks.

One of the requests of the Peace Walk organizers was an audience with Baltimore Police Commissioner Richard Worley and Mayor Brandon Scott. Baltimore Police spokesperson Lindsey Eldridge, who said there had been no prior request for a meeting with Worley, shared a statement released before the walk affirming that “we welcome the organizers to reach out, and Commissioner Worley is always willing to engage in constructive conversations about public safety and community concerns.”

The statement added that BPD’s “role is to enforce the laws as enacted. Any discussion regarding potential changes to Maryland’s dirt bike laws or regulatory framework is appropriately directed to our legislative partners.”

The bikes were outlawed in Baltimore after two men were killed in dirt bike crashes in 2000. Then-City Council member Catherine Pugh sponsored the law that was signed by Mayor Martin O’Malley.

What has to happen first is to admit that the root of these laws is racism. “So much of it is about the look, about how the young people dress, how they talk,” Love said.

It’s true that there have been injuries and deaths associated with dirt bikes. You can witness illegal maneuvers, like riders running red lights and doing doughnuts. No one is disputing that. But it’s also true that a lot of people are simply nervous about large groups of Black people assembling to do anything at all. Staton compared the legislation and accommodations made for scooters, non-motorized bicycles and skateboards to the lack of any of that for dirt bikes.

“They say, ‘We’re just enforcing the law,’ and you gotta go, ‘You’re right. You are enforcing the law, but that means we gotta go back to the law itself,” he said. “If this law is outdated, are we building a barrier?”

Advocates have so many suggestions, like building a park in the city where the bikes can legally be ridden. The nearest such space is in Massachusetts, several hours away and requiring riders to transport their bikes by truck — an option that isn’t accessible to everyone.

Local advocates have in the past even suggested holding a dirt bike event at Pimlico to showcase “different kinds of horsepower.” (So clever!)

The dirt bike community is ready to realize their vision of people being able to ride in public.

“When can we get to the table?” Staton said. “We want to work with them [lawmakers]. We understand the reality of it. But how do we get that opportunity? What happens if, say, we did build a park for young people who were willing to drive safe? We can see those young people and adults are open to it. But there’s this perception that they’re just knuckleheads doing it for the thrill.”

Until these talks can happen, it’s a catch-22, because planning private spaces and events is a moot point if the bikes are still illegal.

“You say you don’t want this,” Staton said of dirt bikes in public spaces or accommodations to realize that. “We’re saying, ‘What if you give it to them and it does work out?’ This is just a reminder that the table is still there.”

Now it’s up to the city to come sit down. It’s time.