Motorcycle church seeking highway to heaven

Pastor Doug Carlson dresses for work wearing a pair of faded Army fatigues, clunky brown boots, a choker necklace, and a leather vest dotted with various patches.

Better known as ''Pastor Shoe," Carlson is an evangelical preacher who presides over the Biker Cell Church, a congregation of motorcycle riders who travel around the Seacoast and other parts of New Hampshire looking for converts.

Carlson's church is based in a storefront in Somersworth, but on a recent afternoon he and several congregants rode into Portsmouth to preach.

They began the service with a song, while gathered in a semicircle just outside the North Church in Market Square.

Albert Johnson's voice dominated the tune, albeit slightly off key, the sound echoing around the square, loud enough to cause passersby to stop on the other side of the street.

A few teens left the church steps, where they had been sitting, and moved away.

''Not so loud," said Linda Sawyer, a member of the biker church. ''I can't hear myself think."

Many of the church's members wear a patch that reads ''Loud Pipes May Save Lives, But Jesus Saves Souls," a tribute to their passions of religion and biking.

After drawing some attention from people walking by, Carlson began a sermon on sin, and Sawyer quietly walked toward a woman holding two small dogs. She quickly slipped the stranger a pamphlet about the church, God, and saving souls, as her 5-year-old son, Cameron, petted the dogs.

Emily Rafferty, 20, took the pamphlet and put it on the bench next to her.

''They are here all the time," she said. ''If they want to do it, it's fine with me. If people want to say something, isn't it great that Portsmouth is a place where they can do that?"

The biker evangelists know their words will not always be immediately embraced, but they're hopeful the message will eventually resonate.

''We are out to make disciples," Carlson said. ''We don't think we can live without the faith."

Carlson seamlessly juggles his enthusiasm for motorcycles and his religion. He's quick to show off a scrape on his shoulder from a recent crash and loves to talk shop, be it about a bike he's fixed up or one that a buddy has parked nearby. He picked up the hobby when he was in his early 20s. Now 39, Carlson said people who join his church have more than their religious beliefs in common. Biking brings people closer and makes the bond even stronger, he said.

''Christians can have fun," said the pastor. ''You can be a biker and a Christian."

His schedule consists of regular Sunday and Monday services in Somersworth with the rest of his time spent on the road, enjoying his bike and spreading the word of God.

Sawyer, 25, said she grew up religious, but had never proselytized before.

''Going out on the streets is new for me," said Sawyer, a soft-spoken disciple. She joined the Biker Cell Church when it started about two years ago and has gotten used to the rejection she often faces while passing out pamphlets.

''It's very nerve-racking," she admitted, quickly adding that she doesn't expect everyone will take what she's offering.

Sawyer said people seem more comfortable with her son.

''A lot of people accept children more than adults," she said.

And so Cameron has been charged with giving bouncy, rubber balls to children who walk past. He reached into a tin can and passed them to youngsters while his mom talked to the accompanying adult.

Sawyer beamed when talking about her son. ''He's my inspiration," she said.

When asked what he thinks of God, Cameron said, without pausing, ''God means I love you. I love God. God is my favorite person." And why does he give out the balls? ''Because I was supposed to."

As Carlson finished his sermon, Johnson, 55, began a booming reading from the Book of John. He almost screamed the scripture, as people across the street stopped to watch.

Meanwhile, other congregants eagerly pointed out their wheels. Whether boasting about the beautiful chrome, engine power, or new features, these men are easy to think of as motorcycle salesmen rather than evangelicals.

Mike Mourgenos ran his fingers along his 100th Anniversary Harley, to which he has added some seriously bright green paint.

''Bikers are not always what they are portrayed as," said 36-year-old Michael Caplette, who goes by ''Ace." ''Bikers do good things. We're not all bad."

His contribution, Caplette said, is his participation in the church and his adherence to the Christian principles of living.

Johnson finished his reading and reflected on his evangelical calling.

''There was a time in our nation's history when open-air street preaching was done on a regular basis," he said. As churches were built and people went indoors to worship, he said, the practice became less common.

''A lot of great revivals have come out of New England," he added. ''That can happen again."

Which is just what Carlson is hoping for.

With its work in Portsmouth complete for the day, Carlson's flock prepared to head elsewhere to preach, and sing, and bike.