Story by Aaron J Kleist
Funerals make me want to become a motorcycle cop.
I’m a literature professor in my 50s and have ridden a bike for 30 years. For half that time, I’ve split lanes and hugged the Southern-California coast on a 2005 Honda ST1300. Fewer of these bikes are to be seen as time goes by: Indeed, Rider reflected on the death of the open-class sport-tourer in the October 2025 issue.
Over the past year, however, I’ve repeatedly encountered ST1300 riders in an unexpected context: as funeral escorts. They honor the dead. They suspend the laws of traffic. And they are a fading breed.
Produced from 2002-2013, the ST1300 was a workhorse for police departments across the U.S. and Europe. It was only after Honda’s discontinuation of the line that many turned to sport-tourers such as the BMW R 1200 RT or R 1300 RT – Rider’s 2025 first runner-up for Motorcycle of the Year. ST1300s were retired, cannibalized for parts, or repurposed for less strenuous duties – serving, for example, as escorts at funerals.
Maybe it’s personal whimsey, an affection for a model that, like me, is failing piece by piece and destined for obsolescence, but I keep wondering: What is that job like? How does one get it? Because I also think, like Sam Flynn in Tron Legacy: Now, this I can do.
Here’s what I’ve seen: Two, three, or more riders will shepherd the procession, which might be dozens of cars long. The cars themselves may bear orange “Funeral” stickers and flash their hazards for visibility, but the escorts are charged with keeping the line together, moving, and safe – no easy task in certain types of traffic. Teamwork is key. With the elegant “leapfrogging” technique, for instance, one rider may steadily lead the line while others take turns leaping ahead to stop cross-traffic in upcoming intersections. The process isn’t without danger: Drivers, known to run yellow/red lights at the best of times, often get confused when faced with an unexpected procession, leading to occasional escort accidents. Civilian escorts, moreover, are limited in what they can do: Not only must they not use police lights and uniforms, but they may not be allowed to stop traffic depending on the state.
Even so, the job has its attractions. Some might want to turn their riding hobby into extra pay or a career. The average hourly rate for a motor escort seems to be about $16 nationwide, some funeral homes charge around $200 for a 3.5-hour service, and salaries with private firms can range from $75K to nearly $100K. Others might be motivated by the opportunity for service. When funerals turn into a blur for those grieving, helping families move from ceremony to graveside is no small gift. In addition, I imagine there’s a joy that comes from working with skilled partners to create a moving bubble that marvelously suspends normal traffic.
So how does one get such a job? There are two main ways one can become a funeral escort: sworn or civilian. The sworn officer route is decidedly more challenging. In the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD), for instance, candidates must complete six months of Police Academy training, one year of probationary field training, and at least two years of patrol assignments before being allowed to apply for the basic motorcycle training course, should an opening become available. The process at the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department (LASD) and the California Highway Patrol (CHP) is similar. In all cases, the program is daunting: LASD’s test is considered “one of the hardest” in law enforcement training, and half or more of CHP applicants fail. I’ve repeatedly heard from LAPD officers that high-speed maneuvers aren’t the main hurdle: It’s the cone weave which demonstrates precise control at very low speeds. One CHP officer practiced weaves for a year before even applying to motor school. He attests, however, that this focus on the basics – looking where you want to go, controlling your clutch, relying on your rear brake, keeping your upper body relaxed, and squeezing the tank with your knees – considerably improved his riding in all other areas. Prove you can do all that, back it up with regular recertification, take perhaps a Dignitary Escort Training Course, and you may be assigned to assist at funerals.
A civilian escort is another matter. If a funeral does not require officers to be present to honor a deceased public official for example, funeral homes may hire riders directly or contract with a private motor escort company. While former officers command a premium for such services, civilians are eligible as well. Los Angeles County, for instance, simply requires that escorts pay for the appropriate license ($175 for the first year and $131 thereafter), have the CHP certify their motorcycle’s mechanical condition, and avoid uniforms or equipment that might make one seem like an actual officer. In practice, private companies look for candidates with more experience on the road, in motor escorts, and/or on the police force, and credentialing such as advanced safety courses and traffic control certifications. Private training programs can help those dipping their feet into this realm or seeking to strengthen their applications.
For those wanting to be the next Valentino Rossi, I doubt this road’s for you. If you have a Honda ST1300, BMW R 1200 RT, or similar bike, however, and are lamenting the demise of the open-class sport-tourer, I’d say this: You’re not dead yet. And neither is your bike. But here’s a way to use your ride to escort the deceased with dignity.