"Bikers Stopped to Admire a Nativity Scene, But What They Saw Moving Behind the Manger Made Them Kill Their Engines and Surround the Square. It was supposed to be a simple coffee run. Twelve of us. The ""Iron Saints."" We aren't a gang, just a brotherhood of guys who like the noise of the engine better than the silence of our empty houses. We do this ride every December. No destination. Just chasing the cold air until our fingers go numb, trying to feel something real. We pulled into Cedarville