When I started biking a few years ago, I was apparently part of a huge surge of new bikers just coming on the scene. The biking landscape at the time had been sculpted by those who had been riding before us.
I can only imagine what it was like then. While bikers weren’t unheard of, there were not as many bikers in those days. The biking community was more exclusive simply because there weren’t as many people riding. That climate seems to have brought motorcyclists together in their shared enthusiasm. Bikers waved at each other, and the old-timers reminisce about a time when no biker would just drive on past a stranded fellow rider.
I came to motorcycling on the crest of a great wave of new riders. That flood of people with new ideas and expectations must have had an effect on the image held of, and by bikers. Many of the forums I go to have threads about waving. Some are fanatics about it and take it personally when another biker doesn’t wave back. Others are less emotional, but still note a change in this time honored tradition.
Ten years ago you could ride all day and, unless your were at some biking activity or event, you might not see another bike. Today if you’re on a scenic ride on a weekend, you’re going to see a hundred or more bikes. If you try to wave at every bike you meet, you’ll spend as much time with you hand in the air as on the bars.
One long time rider I know told me about taking a weekend ride over a scenic road. On one stretch, as they were rounding a mountain curve, his group of 20 to 30 bikes met another group of 20 to 30 bikes. He described up to 60 bikes roaring past each other on a narrow pass at closing speeds approaching 100 mph, and nobody with both hands on the bars.
“Some of them folks weren’t too steady steering with both hands,” he told me. “I don’t mind that they don’t wave if they just won’t run into me.”
It’s inevitable that the culture will be changed by the weight of people it has attracted. Maybe we can keep the best of it though.

— Guy Wheatley

It seems like every group has this guy. He’s the one every body looks at when there’s a group question. Or if someone has an idea, he’s the one they’ll ask or pitch it to. In the little group I ride with, the guy filling this slot doesn’t particularly want the position. We’ll just call him “The Old Man,” for the benefit of this blog. He’s always trying to get someone else to take the lead both literally in the riding order, and figuratively in the pecking order. He’s not had much luck.
Part of the reason we all look to him is simply his gregarious personality. His wife is an excellent rider and they often have the rest of the group over to their house. He’s never met a stranger and is always willing to extend a helping hand. Visits to their house often turn into to mini wrench sessions in his well appointed shop.
That leads to another part of why he’s the one out front. He’s very good at working on bikes and is a genius with body work and a paint gun. If anybody is having trouble with their bike or wants to modify it, this is the go-to guy. And it’s great having him along on the road. If anybody breaks down, we all stop and wait for his magic to make it better.
My wife and I ride alone quite often. After learning quite a bit about bike repair and maintenance from The Old Man, I don’t worry much about breakdowns. I can take care of anything that could be reasonably fixed in the road. Otherwise, there’s AAA and a cell phone.
But on group rides, let any bike make a funny noise or act a bit strange and all heads will turn to The Old Man. I guess it just gets to be a habit after a while. So, here’s to the leader of the pack. Better you than me buddy.

— Guy Wheatley

I was heading home a few days ago and stopped at an intersection. There was a car coming from my left with his left blinker on. I’ve seen too many drivers plow straight through an intersection with their blinkers on, signaling a turn that never came. If you’re in a car and pull out in front of someone like that, then you get out survey the damage and exchange insurance information. If you’re on a motorcycle and pull out in front of somebody who doesn’t turn, then the other guys calls the morgue after he rolls over you. You can have lights and arrows and everything else on the front of your car. I’ll believe you’re turning when I see your front wheels cut over.
I watched the guy and sure enough, he rolls right through the intersection. I made a right turn and fell in behind him. I followed him a couple of blocks as we drove in front of a hospital. The entrance to the hospital parking lot was on our left. A pedestrian further up the street saw us coming and must have assumed that the man in the car was going to pull into the parking lot. His blinker was on after all. I could see the pedestrian’s eyes get big as the motorists passed the parking lot entrance and continued toward him.
The pedestrian stopped and back-stepped off the road back onto the curb. The guy in the cars comes to a halt, blinker still going, and begins waving at the pedestrian to cross. Warily he does, and the guy in the car starts rolling again still signaling a left turn.
I follow him for another block, wondering how far he’ll go before realizing his turn-signal is on. In exasperation, I take a deep breath and lower my head. My gaze falls across the instrument cluster on my triple tree and I discover that MY FLIPPIN BLINKER IS ON! I’ve been signaling a right turn since I fell in behind this guy.
OK, he drove a few blocks with his blinker on. Give him a break. It could happen to anybody.

— Guy Wheatley

The image of motorcyclists in America has changed over the years. In the 50’s and 60’s most people thought of, “The Wild Bunch” when it came to bikers. One of the pivotal moments in the way the American public came to view motorcyclists was Honda’s 1963 advertising slogan, “You meet the nicest people on a Honda.” Honda portrayed riders of their 50cc Super Cub as housewives, and other regular people. The following year, Honda became the first foreign company to sponsor the Academy Awards taking the campaign national. From the 70s up through the 90s motorcycle riders weren’t necessarily considered criminal, but most of the public still thought of them as a little eccentric.
As we rolled into the 21st century, the baby boom generation was dealing with the empty nest syndrome. Many of these people had had bikes when they were in high school. Others didn’t have bikes, but had friends who did. Now, with the kids gone and more disposable income that before, many of them bought motorcycles. The cost of motorcycles soared as they got larger and offered more features and accessories. As result biking developed a following of financially and socially stable hobbyists. To many people the image of a biker is now an aging boomer, throwing money at a mid-life crisis.
As we begin closing out the first decade of the 21st century, a new and disturbing image of motorcycle riders comes to us from the turbulent middle-east. Video and still images snuck out past Iran’s media crackdown show thugs intimidating protesters from the seat of motorcycles. Let’s hope motorcycles don’t become symbolic tools of totalitarian control.

AP Photo
In this image made from video Saturday June 20, 2009, showing a motorcycle as it burns in the street in Tehran, where protesters appeared to be fighting back security forces, and setting fire to militia members' motorcycles, as Iran state-run television network IRIB broadcast this video.

— Guy Wheatley

The weather was great this weekend, so I rode both days. This was a gas burning expedition rather than an attempt to reach a particular destination. We took a circuitous route through Ashdown, then back over to Fulton before heading into Old Washington. Discovering they’d rolled up the streets a little after noon, we went in to Hope to find a restaurant.
We went from divided 4 lane roads to narrow roads I’d call a lane and a half. A question I came up with is, how far is too far to wave? Most bikers will give other bikers the low wave we they pass each other. It’s an easy call on a narrow little strip of blacktop winding through the back country. But when the other bike is 100 yards away in the other lane on the Interstate it’s a little less clear. I don’t want the other biker to think I’m unfriendly, but there has to be a distance limit.
If traffic is heavy, or if I need both hands for safety sake for some other reason, I keep them on the bars.
If you pass me someday and I don’t wave, don’t think I’m a snob. I either didn’t see you or felt I needed to drive more the socialize.

Guy Wheatley