The brotherhood bringing motorbikes back from the dead

Cycle Zombies — The Stopnik family have come to define an alternative image of Californian cool: bikers who surf, skate and know how to get the most out of life.

Scotty Stopnik is standing on a French motocross track, scanning the horizon through a thicket of photographers, looking like a dirtbag straight out of 1964.

The 32-year-old’s muddy white jeans are tucked into a pair of old biker boots, his filthy open-face helmet – the kind of thing racers stopped using long ago – offering all the protective qualities of a glazed ostrich egg.

But Scotty doesn’t seem to be perturbed by the lack of EU approval. The helmet merely ticks a box, an absolute minimal nod to regulations. He’s in the Basque Country with his dad, Scott, and one of his younger brothers, Taylor.

Cycle Zombies
The trio are travelling on a sunglasses company’s ticket, pinballing between San Sebastian, Biarritz and other coordinates to represent the Cycle Zombies crew.

They are all Huntington Beach locals, blood kin united by the love of crusty old Harleys. Together they’ve formed a collective that has earned a certain level of devotion, both from the individuals they inspire and from the companies who wish to sprinkle CZ magic on their own offerings. Somehow they’ve become equal parts greasy and wholesome.

“To be honest, the name kind of sucks but it’s fitting to what we do,” says Scotty. “We bring old bikes back to life. People ask, ‘Is Cycle Zombies a gang or what?’ It’s never been anything remotely like a club, except the club of having fun.”

Scotty, the eldest of the Stopnik boys, married his childhood girlfriend 11 years ago and they have four children together. He buys, customises and sells old motorcycles; but he also surfs, skates and helps hawk lifestyle brands in addition to shifting the Cycle Zombies’ own merchandise at events around the world.

Cycle Zombies
They are alternative California to the point of stereotype, but far more likeable than that might make them sound. In fact if there’s a defining image of leftfield, West Coast cool in the 21st century, it’s because the Cycle Zombies helped create it.

‘Big Scott’ Stopnik, a 61-year-old goateed hulk who doesn’t show many signs of slowing down, has led by example. He was transplanted from the Midwest to California as a baby, just as a subcultural tsunami was about to break: rock‘n’roll, surfing, bike gangs, teenage rebellion – and Scott sucked it all up. His own chopper and lowrider bicycle creations gradually evolved into all manner of dirt bikes, drag bikes and hot rods.

As a father, Scott brought his brood up in his own image, treating them as young adults free to roam on a long leash. “When Scotty was 14 or 15, we were putting motors on bicycles so that he could illegally ride to the beach,” he says, the memory of it bringing a smile to his face as his voice tightens slightly.

In time, the Stopnik children became a multi-skilled progeny with strong Scandi-genes, good jawlines and enough work ethic – as well as charm – to blaze their own path through life: one where dumb fun is never too far away.

Scott Stopnik
Today the Cycle Zombies are not easily categorised and, for precisely that reason, they’ve been embraced by so many among the various circles they inhabit.

As we speak, Scotty is preparing to race a borrowed motorcycle through knee-deep mud before skating a half-pipe tonight and then surfing Atlantic sets the next day. That ability to change things up whatever the situation, he explains, just comes naturally when you’ve grown up riding all sorts of bikes and boards.

Despite being sponsored for years, Scotty was considered an anomaly in surfing because he didn’t compete. Brands simply paid for the association rather than any discernible results.

“It became really interesting [to them], like: ‘These kids are into bikes, they’re not out getting loaded and waking up at 12 o’clock the next day. Instead they’re getting up at five in the morning and going to swap-meets with these old guys and buying stuff, working on it, doing it with their families.’”

Cycle Zombies
Family is important. The core of the Cycle Zombies are all Stopniks: the Scotts, Taylor, younger brother Turk and, before he concentrated on his own business, their cousin Chase. It’s one of the things that resonates most among their tribe of followers.

“I can’t tell you how many people come up to me or how many emails will say, ‘It’s so cool that you get to do all that with your dad,’” says Scotty.

“Me and my father realised that we opened the book to let these guys think, ‘Hey, my dad’s cool too.’ Really, life’s so short that you need to have fun with your friends and family. It’s like riding old surfboards. The older generation’s been there, but we’re making a full circle.”

This article appears in Huck 66 – The Attitude Issue. Buy it in the Huck Shop or subscribe to make sure you never miss another issue.

Find out more about Cycle Zombies or follow them on Instagram.

Enjoyed this article? Like Huck on Facebook or follow us on Twitter.


You might like

Woman in grey athletic wear roller skating on wooden floor in dimly lit venue with other skaters in background.
Music

In London, rollerskating’s revival rumbles with the city’s soundsystem culture

Rink magic — New quad skate events around the capital are being soundtracked by a cocktail of jungle, dancehall, amapiano, UK rap and more, in a uniquely London fusion. Ian McQuaid reports on the hybrid skate-dances, and the growing pains that the scene has faced.

Written by: Ian McQuaid

Black and white street scene with several people roller skating down a road between urban buildings and storefronts.
© Mike O’Meally
Sport

New documentary revisits NYC’s ’90s skateboarding golden age via the lens of Supreme

Empire Skate — The 30 for 30 documentary premiered in June, exploring how the brand evolved from a Lafayette skate shop into a global streetwear giant.

Written by: Isaac Muk

Man in striped shirt crouching on concrete ledge near black dog and recycling bins, with graffitied wall behind.
Sport

Nottingham’s forbidden skaters are repaving the city’s landscape

Skate Nottingham — Having once been a UK skateboarding hub, a Y2K bylaw banned the sport in the city’s public areas. Now, a new generation is demonstrating the value that they bring to the local area, and recalibrating attitudes across the board.

Written by: Molly Baker

Dimly lit, derelict indoor area with wooden ramps and a lone figure in the distance.
Sport

“Moment of escape”: Maen Hammad’s defiant West Bank skate photos

Landing — Choosing to return to Palestine after growing up in the USA, the photographer found himself drawn to Ramallah’s burgeoning skate scene. His debut monograph explores the city’s rebellious youth, who pull tricks in the face of occupation.

Written by: Miss Rosen

Two men sitting on a wooden structure at night.
Sport

The Ukrainian skatepark sanctuary on the frontlines of war

Krytka — In Okhtyrka, just 50km from the border with Russia, a crew of young skaters, musicians and friends gutted out an abandoned factory, filling it with ramps and music equipment to create a shelter of community and resilience.

Written by: Isaac Muk

A group of people sitting around a campfire in a dark forest, with trees and flowers in the background illuminated by the fire's glow.
© Angelina Nikolayeva
Music

At Belgium’s Horst, electronic music, skate and community collide

More than a festival — With art exhibitions, youth projects and a brand new skatepark, the Vilvoorde-Brussels weekender is demonstrating how music events can have an impact all year round.

Written by: Isaac Muk

Huck is supported by our readers, subscribers and Club Huck members. It is also made possible by sponsorship from:

Signup to our newsletter

Sign up to our newsletter to informed with the cutting edge of sport, music and counterculture, featuring personal takes on the state of media and pop culture from Emma Garland, former Digital Editor of Huck, exclusive interviews, recommendations and more.

Please wait...