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Copyright © 2005 Edward E. Williams
Rider. Biker. Squid. One Percenter. Ducatista. HOG. Beemer-Snob. Scooter boy. Scooter Trash. Rebel. Canyon pilot. Winger. Iron Butt.
Words. Words we use, among many others to describe one type of motorcyclist or another. Everyone has their favorite description of themselves and their favorite derisive name for the other guy. Each of us has a particular idea of what this whole "motorcycling thing" is all about. All you have to do to prove that is to ask the following question at any gathering of two or more motorcyclists:
What is a motorcyclist?
When you ask that seemingly innocent question, you're liable to get anything from a series of carefully considered answers to a knock-down, drag-out bar fight.
While in the simplest terms, we could all probably agree that a person who is a "motorcyclist" is one defined as being interested in motorcycles, riding, and the associated things that go with those interests. But what you'd be missing in that simplistic answer is pretty much everything.
Sure, we're a group of people interested in riding and bikes and the stuff that goes with bikes. But we're also people from just about every social and economic subset you can think of. We're male and female. We're old and young. We're european, asian, african, and indiginous peoples. We speak every language on the face of the planet. We do every job on the face of the planet. We're honest and we're criminal. We're godly and godless. We're republican & democrat, labour & conservative, libertarian & anarchist, deeply involved & indifferent. We're gay, straight and bi. We're vanilla and S&M, shy and bold, necrophile and pedophile. We're genuis & idiot, wise & ignorant, professor & pupil, priest & parishoner, artist & engineer, janitor & rocket scientist, pauper & president.
When you look at us, you'll see what you see every day at work or at the supermarket or on the street - people. You'll see the vast collection of humanity that makes up any community anywhere on earth. And like any community on earth, we also tend to group ourselves in terms of our tribal traditions and values. And like any other tribe on the planet, each of our tribes has rights and rituals that seem to others as at best odd, and at worst crimnal and against nature.
Our tribes are grouped most typically around what kind of machine the tribe prefers. Our machines are talisman and touchstone all in one. We arrange ourselves as cowboys, gladiators, travellers, knights, soldiers or wizards. One tribe is not accepting of another's machines in most cases, even if polite group discourse requires civil acceptance of another's strange and alien beliefs.
What does, however, appear common among the vast universe of motorcylists around the world is the basic love of the open road and the freedom of personal travel. There have always been travellers. Man has been wandering and curious ever since the first proto-human evolved from the great apes. In past centuries, great quests and crusades were conducted on foot and then on horseback and then with mechanical contraptions powered by fire and steam.
Is the will to travel and change our surroundings inborn? Do we as human beings have an inate need to explore and see new things? What is it about being out on the road on a motorcycle that thrills us and keeps us so interested that we won't stop when it rains or snows, and makes us ride until we're stiff and sore and tired and hungry? Why is it that at the end of a very long and trying day, we still have a smile on our face as we bed down for the night? What's really all that fun about being cold and wet and still staring 300 miles in the face after the eighth hour on the road?
I chalk all of it up to one simple idea. We like being distinctive and different. If everyone rode a motorcycle and motorcycles were the predominant mode of transportation, would we feel the same way about riding? I think that a big part of the draw of motorcycling is the fact that a fairly small portion of the world's people ride. As a rider, you're unique and distinctive. In some ways, you're mysterious and enigmatic to the average person. As a rider, you carry a skill set that most people don't have, don't understand and don't see the need for. It is a useful set of skills not only for riding like hell through your favorite cayon, but for getting from place to place in parts of the world where the idea of a "road" is a lot different than it is where you live.
Motorcycling is an exciting and intoxicating mix of speed, motion, force, stimulation of the senses, uniqueness and the possesion of a precious set of mental and motor skills to make it all work. For some, this mix is enough to drive them through rain and wind, blistering heat and arctic cold, city traffic and the vast empty spaces in the world.
Certainly for some riders, owning a motorcycle is simply something to be done like owning an expensive painting or collecting stamps or the like. I call those folks "motorcycle owners", not motorcyclists.
So what IS a motorcylist anyway?
You can say that a motorcyclist is a person who's in to racing, touring, tinkering, bar-hopping, adventure riding, canyon carving or stunting. You can say that a motorcyclist is a person who dresses in leather and wears a funny plastic hat. You can say that a motorcyclist, or more appropriately a "biker" is a person who rides a big loud bike and has a lot of tattoos.
But I think that at the very core, a motorcyclist is a person who loves to ride. It's a person who is passionate about taking a unique set of skills and making the most of it. It's a person who would rather ride than drive and can't understand why you can't understand that preference. Whatever else comes along with being a rider - from paddock girls to "the wave" to cold fingers in January - the core of the question gets down to the love of riding and a passion for the open road.
Ride safe.
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