Burly biker uses 'hog' as a sleigh

The saddlebags are packed, the boots have a fresh coat of polish and the red velvet suit has been dry-cleaned and trimmed with silver bells.

It's time for Orville Ryver to fire up the engine and hit the highway astride his black-and-silver Harley, turning heads as he takes a bit of Christmas spirit to Utah's big and small towns.

For more than a decade, the retired heavy-equipment operator has delighted in roaring up to hospitals and rest homes, his cheeks rosy from the wind, to hand out toys and candy canes and turn skeptics into believers.

Santa was "born to be wild," he says with a chuckle, stroking his curly white beard. "But he's also a big softie at heart."

Eager to share his story in the hope of inspiring others to contribute to the spirit of the holidays, he recently joined me for a Free Lunch chat while preparing to load his Harley-Davidson for another trip.

Orville, who lives on a small farm in West Bountiful with his wife, Lisa, aka Mrs. Claus, started making toy runs on his motorcycle 11 years ago, after he and a friend won a load of stuffed animals from a truck stop's coin-operated crane game.

"We had a whole sack loaded with prizes, so we took them up to Primary Children's (hospital) on a snowy night," he recalls. "That was my first gig."

Orville was clean-shaven then and didn't own any red velvet clothing at the time.

The following year, his 7-year-old granddaughter, Tisha, was diagnosed with alopecia — a scalp condition that caused all of her hair to fall out. To show his support, Orville decided to grow out his beard and donate the locks to a charity that makes wigs for bald children and adults.

One Sunday, after his beard had started to grow back, a girl strode to the pulpit at his LDS ward to tell everyone what she was thankful for. "This is a special church," she said, "because Santa Claus goes here."

Orville knew what he had to do. He asked Lisa, an opera singer and seamstress, to measure him for a Santa suit. Although he'd been on charity bike runs before with riders from Harley-Davidson clubs, "I wanted to take it a step further," he says. "I wanted something positive to fill my life."

A Vietnam veteran, Orville had survived being shot and exposed to Agent Orange. For years, he carried scars from the war with him, looking no further than the faded blue tattoo on his forearm to remember what was lost.