Call it what you will. Being silly, midlife crazy or lack of common sense, but back in the summer I purchased a motorcycle. Mhm, I know, too old maybe or too accident prone for a motorcycle, but I bought one anyway. It had been many, many years since I rode one and doubtful I had ever ridden on a a highway, but, as they say, like riding a bicycle, once you learn, you never forget. Right? Well I have never been on a bicycle that went over 50 MPH and was able to skin your rump over a hardtop like a raccoon on steroids, if you lost control of it!
I took my time and re-learned the principle of keeping the thing upright, between the lines and out of traffic. I didnt buy the thing for speed, I bought it to look cool. Guess what? I look dam cool!!! Because? I ride a motorcycle and motorcycles are cool!
As I got braver and braver on the bike and would begin to explore down the road, taking my time and enjoying the wind as it blasted my face, hoping a bumble bee didn't fly up under my helmet. I found that, I now belonged to a breed of super cool people. No one knew me, or my past or where I worked or what I was doing with my life, I was just cool. I found that, other motorcyclist or "bikers", had this super cool way of saying hello to other bikers that they passed on the road. It wasn't a typical "throw your hand up in the air" hello. Nor was it one of those "wave like an idiot" things the Queen does. It was cool, because, we rode motorcycles and motorcycles are cool.
We have this unique greeting, no other person on the road does it, so it is indeed special. Only bikers can greet one another in this way. But we take our left hand, hold it below the handle bars and point outward. Cool huh?
We bikers also do not smile. I, personally, have never had a problem not smiling since so many have attempted to get me to smile through my life. It isn't like we are mad, or bad or just telling the world that we don't put up with crap, it's mainly for one reason. If you smile while traveling at 55 mph, your toothbrush will take heck trying to get the bugs out of your teeth!!
My bike is maroon and an older one. I thought I had best crawl before I attempted to run at a full gallop so I stuck with a smaller bike. But still, it is dam cool and I look dam cool riding it.
First thing I did was to purchase a helmet. Yea I had to have one of those black ones, seeing how I couldn't find one in maroon, and decorated it with flaming skulls. We bikers have to dress like that because we ride motorcycles and motorcycles are cool. Haven't yet made it to the leather jacket, but found that a maroon shirt would work just as well, complete with black leather boots and dark dark sunglasses. I was now freaking cool, cuz I rode a motorcycle and motorcycles are cool.
I took my bike for a ride as often as I could. Enjoying the wind, the sights, the sounds and the feel of the sun on my body. Everything was enjoyable, except for the occasional suicide bug that would hit my nose like a kamikaze at Pearl Harbor. Let me tell you, those darn creatures can bring tears to your eyes. Now I know why we bikers wear dark dark sunglasses...it hides the tears after a bug dead centers your nose!!
On my way home one evening, being cool as hell, on my bike, now part of a very elite group of people, I saw on the horizon another bike coming down the road. Awesome! I thought. Now I can give him our super special, ultimately cool, biker greeting. As he neared, I saw another behind him and another and another. Holy hannah I passed two dozen bikers coming down the road, each giving me that unique greeting since I was now as cool as they were. I, not wanting to seem unbrotherly, gave the same unique greeting, left hand slightly below the handlebars, finger pointing downward. All of this being down as I was driving down the road myself, trying to keep the bike upright, steady, going around curves, one hand on the handlebar, attempting to remain cool as hell...That was hard, but I did it. I succeeded because I was cool, simply because I rode a motorcycle and motorcycles are cool.
Nothing is as wonderful as riding your bike. Everything feels much better and so much more wonderful. Even the rain. Coming home one day, storm clouds on the horizon, I knew I had to make a safe dash for home. Hate to be caught out in the weather. Motorcycles don't cling to the wet highways as good as other vehicles. Now a heavy mist, which looks good on your windshield doesn't feel so hot on your face. That blasted stuff hit me like a thousand peed off bees stinging every inch of my face. But I tolerated it, simply because I rode a motorcycle and motorcycles are cool.
Quicker than I could think, the mist turned to rain drops. Not your garden variety rain drops, these were more like water buckets being thrown in my face at a gazillion miles per hour. Let me tell you, I thought of pulling over until it passed but I didn't. I continued to ride my bike down the road. Feeling the gigantic rain drops splatter on my face, feeling like I was being shot, at point blank with a paint ball gun!! But I didn't grimace, cuz I rode a motorcycle and motorcycles were cool.
It had been since the first of September since I last rode my bike. The leaves already turned and fallen to the ground. Even our first snowfall of the year. But today, the weather was nice, warm and sunny. Meaning to wash and wax my bike for winter keep, I decided to dress in my cool attire and hit the road. I put on my cool jeans, cool black boots. I found my black leather belt complete with skull buckle and slipped on my maroon shirt to match my bike. Not really knowing why since I had on a jean jacket which hid the skull buckle belt and maroon shirt, but what the heck, I had to look cool whether anyone saw it or not.
With my black helmet, complete with flaming skulls on the side, dark sunglasses, down the road I headed. It was nice to be on the bike once again. Knowing that the days I would be able to ride were few now since winter is looking us in the face. Feeling the warmth of the sun cover my body, ignoring the cool cool wind, I rode. Cool, well, is an understatement when I rode in the shade of the mountains, it did infact get a little cold until I passed the shaded areas and back into the sun. But this was ok, cuz I rode a motorcycle and motorcycles are cool.
I rode a few miles, up the road and then turning back, heading to Stevens Lake, which looks gorgeous this time of the year with the red oaks in full color. Before I left home, I thought I heard a few bikers heading up or down the road. Sadly, I never seen any, appearing that, I was the only biker to brave the cool wind and take advantage of the time given to ride. Passing the lake, noticing the folks fishing and riding their boats, (no I didnt wave at any of them, how could I? They weren't on a motorcycle and thus were not worthy of the super special, ultimately cool motorcycle greetings as we cool bikers were.)
I turned my bike around, lost in thought as I so usually am. Heading back down the road, taking in the late fall beauty of the West Virginia countryside, on the horizon, heading towards me....another motorcycle! As we passed, I saw the other riders left hand leaving his handlebar. I removed mine. We both dropped our hands slightly below the handlebar, fingers pointing outwards....our super special, ultimately cool biker greeting was given. We didn't know who the other was, or where he came from. We didn't care. All we knew was, we had to greet one another in that special way. simply because, we rode motorcycles and motorcycles were cool.
I had rode my bike today. I had met a fellow biker and our super special greeting was exchanged. Now I was able to go home, completely satisfied. Slowly I headed home, watched the sun slip away, not knowing what tomorrow would hold in store or the next few months. Never knowing when I will once again belong to that special group who take to the road every summer, giving that super special, ultimately cool greeting to one another.
I parked my bike back in the garage. Promised her that I would be back to take her for a spin as soon as I could. Thanking her for a safe trip and faithful ride. I placed my helmet on the mirror, my dark dark sunglasses neatly folded, on the leather seat. Walked out of the garage holding my head high and proud. Yea, I was cool. Cool as hell, simply because I rode a motorcycle and motorcycles are cool.....
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