Are You a "Biker"?

After riding for some 35 years and owning more bikes than I can count, I am

still a little confused when someone asks me the question, "Are you a

biker?"

Do I ride? Yes. Do I own a motorcycle? Yes. Do I saddle up often? Yes,

usually daily. Is riding a motorcycle the most important thing I do? Yes,

right behind being with my family and making a living.

There are many definitions for real biker. Many riders think being a biker

means that you ride a scooter constantly and probably don't even own a car.

Some think that only Harley riders are real bikers, while others believe

that being a club "1 %'er" is the key to the biker title.

I've also heard guys say things like, "Real bikers ride in the rain." Well,

I guess I'm not a real biker because I drive my cage when it's raining. But

I consider that an intelligence issue.

I also hear conversations that if you have a good job and make great money,

somehow you have been disqualified from being a real biker because you are

now a yuppie or a R.U.B. (rich urban biker). Well, I plead guilty again

because I have a pretty good job, and I do okay. I guess I've lost points

again on the real biker scale.

Do tattoos, outrageous haircuts or earrings get you closer to the Holy Grail

of real bikerhood? How about the folks who ride sport bikes, Gold Wings or

trikes? Are they real bikers? Can a Gold Winger ever become a real biker?

According to many so-called experts, once you get a Gold Wing, you get

busted back down to Private. Zero points on the real biker scale. What

happens to a real biker if he suddenly loses his mind and -- God forbid --

buys a British bike?

I'm sure many of you are a little like me and wonder what makes a biker and

whether or not we qualify. Do I think like a biker? Do I look like a biker?

Do I have to dress for work like I dress when I'm riding my scoot to be a

real biker? Do I make too much money to be a real biker? Do I have to put

bike parts into the dishwasher to be a real biker? Can I take my scoot to

the dealership for an oil change and still keep my Real Biker Card?

Recently, as I drove home from work, I came across a young guy pushing his

Honda cruiser down a country road. After stopping to investigate, I went

home and got my trailer and some tie-downs and came back to help this guy

get his scooter home in one piece. It was apparent early on that he wasn't a

"true biker," that is, an experienced biker. I didn't know the exact

definition of true biker, but I knew he somehow didn't qualify. He would

need to serve some time before applying for his Real Biker Membership Card.

After we got to his house and unloaded his bike, he offered payment for my

services, and I refused. He thanked me and then proceeded to tell me how he

had bought the Honda to go to Sturgis with friends and how wonderful the

experience had been. He went into his house and got some photos of his trip

to show me. He explained how exciting the whole biker experience had been,

how friendly the biker community was, and how surprised he was to feel so

welcome. He said he had recently gone through a divorce and the Sturgis

experience had rejuvenated him, served as a sort of therapy.

As he explained what had apparently been a life-changing experience, it

occurred to me that he was putting into words the whole biker experience

from the fresh point of view of someone who had just arrived. He was so

excited, it almost made me laugh out loud.

I realized he was describing what being around bikers was all about. It was

like he was re-introducing me to an old friend, a friend I had almost

forgotten about and was very happy to re-discover. I'd been around bikers

for so long I'd forgotten what gives our lifestyle such appeal. I had taken

for granted the essence of the experience that had super-charged my

Honda-riding friend.

Then he asked me if I was a biker.

Taken off guard but also responding very quickly, I said, "Yes, I am a

biker."

For the first time in my life I didn't have a problem understanding the

definition of biker. I didn't question my qualifications, brand, style or

dress. I'm not even sure I had a Harley T-Shirt on (yes, I own a Harley as

well as a Sabre).

It doesn't matter. At that moment, I understood that being a biker was that

feeling of comfort you have when enjoying a sport that celebrates the

outdoors and a free spirit. It's the feeling you get when you ride alone or

the thrill you feel when you hear 100 bikes rumble down the road. It's also

the feeling you have when you sit around the fire at night planning the

adventure for the next day. It's like those T-shirts that say, "If I have to

explain, you wouldn't understand."

The experience I had helping a newcomer to the biker world is also a part of

the real biker definition. It hit me like some sort of religious epiphany

that being a biker was not really what you looked like or what you ride or

how often you ride. It was the inner peace that you achieve when you are on

that scooter and you're a million miles from work, worry and pressure.

Real bikers are all members of a kinship with no concern for status or

wealth. Instead, they have a "Live and Let Live" philosophy, while still

watching each others' backs.

After all these years, I've finally discovered the answer to the real biker

question. If you get a shiver up your spine when a good sounding scoot goes

by, have ever stopped to help another rider in distress, or can't sleep

because you're thinking about the morning adventure, don't worry, you're a

real biker. It doesn't matter if it's a sport bike, a cruiser, or a dirt

bike. If it's got two wheels and you get that special feeling when you

saddle up, you get the membership card for life, no questions asked.