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"Riding helps us feel alive, which I suppose, brings us close to religion, or at least the feeling of having a religious experience. It definetlyencourages inner peace and serenity. I think part of that is the smell and taste and feelofthe environmentsurrounding you and passing through you. Another would be the feeling of freedom that is created simply by being part of nature rather than being insulated from it. Motorcycling is a step outside the oh-so-false security of being wrapped in two tons of ABS-equipped airbag-lined steel. You can still get killed in a car, but that fact is much more tangible when all that is between you and the pavement is a few millimeters of leather coating your body and a fiberglass bucket covering your head. This tangibilitycauses you to become much more aware of your surroundings, as well aslife around you in general. It, in fact, causes you to be not so sedentary and makes you more alive. This is why I, and my two wheeled brothers and sisters, ride."



:11brown:
 

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That sums it up pretty well but I would like to add it is therapeutic to me. When I'm riding all the other problems I have just vanish and the only thing on my mind is the next corner or where and when to take a break.
 

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It's an inner feeling. :cooler::angel2::banana::bananas::toast::dance:
 

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Preach it!! :jumper:

There's nothing like it....I know why a dog sticks his head out the window!
 

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Very well put :cooler:
 

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If they have to ask, they wouldn't understand. But your way is more diplomatic!
 

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That's the way it is.

Can't get it simpler than that.
 

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To those that do, no explanation is needed.

To those who don't, none is possible.
 

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Well said. My wife says it is the most peaceful feeling she has ever experienced in her life. She has had a lot on her lately family on her side. We have only been married 4 years and she had never rode before we got together now all I have to do is say ride and she is ready. I really think she likes it more then I do. How lucky can you get.
 

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I ran in to another facet of this same equation the other day. I pulled up at the community mailbox and a car pulled in right behind me. I got off the bike, opened the mailbox and all this time the woman in the car had not budged.

I realized she was scared to get out of the car, I was a "BIKER" and probably slaughtered small children for entertainment, when not doing drugs, running guns or whatever.

Feeling ornery I sat on the bike and started to go through my mail, didn't take long as most was for the wife. The woman just sat there.

Eventually I called out to her, "Am I in your way Ma'am?", her response was to ostentatiously lock the cars doors.

The real joke is that I have often run in to this woman at the mailbox, she only lives a little way down the street from us, and when I am driving my bright yellow Nissan pickup she is as friendly as can be.

Go figure!
 

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EB- No reflection on you personally, I have no idea if your 6'5 275lbs and look like a professional wrestler or if your 5'5 145lbs and have a teddybear doll attached to your luggage rack - You brought up the big bad biker stereotype. Ok, lets talk about that. Who do you think changed more in this situation? You or her? She obviously didn't recognize you. You stated that she was scared to get out of the car. Maybe she was afraid of you because you appeared as a "stranger" of unknown quantity and she was just exercising some self preservation common sense. Your being 'ornery' and blocking her access to her mailbox probably didn't help either.

So in this case, did you attempt to make her feel more comfortable and say, 'hey, I'm Bob, the yellow Nissan pickup guy, I see you around here all the time?' Or did your 'ornery-ness' just reinforce it? You never said how this encounter ended.

I believe that ending the stereotype falls to us who tend to fit it in appearance if not attitude. We are all ambassadors of the two wheeled lifestyle. If that means that we have to go out of our way to be nice to people who appear to be afraid of us and were raised on TV and Movie depictions of "big bad bikers" then that is what it is.
 

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English Bob wrote:
I ran in to another facet of this same equation the other day. I pulled up at the community mailbox and a car pulled in right behind me. I got off the bike, opened the mailbox and all this time the woman in the car had not budged.

I realized she was scared to get out of the car, I was a "BIKER" and probably slaughtered small children for entertainment, when not doing drugs, running guns or whatever.

Feeling ornery I sat on the bike and started to go through my mail, didn't take long as most was for the wife. The woman just sat there.

Eventually I called out to her, "Am I in your way Ma'am?", her response was to ostentatiously lock the cars doors.

The real joke is that I have often run in to this woman at the mailbox, she only lives a little way down the street from us, and when I am driving my bright yellow Nissan pickup she is as friendly as can be.

Go figure!


That's funny. I was out on my 1500 yesterday and when I stopped at a traffic light a young lady from the car behind me ran up to me and asked for road directions.

Maybe it was the ugly headlights on your 1800. :baffled::cooldevil::cheeky1:

Maybe next time I'm in the 'peg visiting cousins we can get together for a coffee.



P.S. Did you ever find the green walnuts you wanted to cook up? I keep having the silly things drop on me from time to time and wonder if I should be putting them aside for you.
 

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Iandux I think said it best!!! :action::)Just really can't add much to that. ;)

Cobra

:15grey:
 

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It's really sad that people haven't gotten over the "Hell's Angels" sterotype of bikers.

I walked into a KFC today and could see everyone turning to look at me. I had my vest on, a star spangled doo rag over hair down to my waist and jeans. How intimidating can I be at 5'-0" tall and 3'+ around the waist. :baffled:

I always remember what Bob Seger said in that song of his!!!

It's sad too, because so many of us on bikes are alot better people than the ones we scare. When it's time to help someone else, all those mean nasty bikers are the ones driving 100 miles to help some cause they are fond of.
 

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My youngest son and I were riding today, we pulled up to a traffic light and I saw a satchel of some type laying in the road next to us. The light had just turned red, and no traffic coming up behind me. I dropped the side stand and jumped off the bike grabbed the item up and got back on the bike. We pulled into a parking lot to see what was inside. It was a Bible. I found a name in the Bible, but no address. There was a Church bulletin in it from today's service. We set out to find the Church. We found the Church, but no one was around. I saw two guys sitting on their front porch next door, so we made a U turn and stopped in front of the house. As I got off the bike one of the guys looked kinda nervous, so I took off my helmet and told him what I had found. He said he didn't go to the Church but the lady 4 houses down did. We went down and stopped at her house.I knocked on the door and the lady wouldn't open the door, I told her what I had found and was trying to get it back to the owner. She was an elderly black lady, and I could tell she was real nervous about talking to a "biker"...she kept looking at the bike and back at me. I thank she calmed down once she saw my 6 yo old son on the bike. She thanked me for getting the Bible to her, she new the girl that owned it. She started to say something, but stopped in mid sentence and told me to have a blessed day. I smiled, Dawson gave her a big smile and wave and off we went.
 

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My fiancee who loves to ride with the observation that it feels like your a part of everything, your not shielded by the car. We went for a ride down a country road one time and the smell of the blooming clover was amazing.
 

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Riding for me is an extension to reality and the furthest thing from any superstition or imaginary powers. Being in close with the machine, gripping the bars and squeezing the engine between my legs while experiencing the harmony of the throttle to the feel of the tires riding the road surface is all to real to me. There is no room for myth or chanting conformist bellowing their need of what I must do to please their narcissistic ways. Instead I’m empowered to hone my senses of awareness keeping my finger on the trigger of reaction being in anticipation to what dangers others oblivious to me can bring. No cold pew or crowds of desperate weak and lame sheep looking for a hand out. Just a few hundred parts twirling to blast me through the bellowing breeze then leave but a whiff of combustion vapor as a tell tale trail to where I once existed. In the perfect ride as all the above let there present itself the chance to dance between the lanes of cars like water I follow the path of least resistance looking next for each orgasmic corner a chance to bend and fold my motor into what no car can as I pivot through to the force. Finding happiness in the synchronization of heart and engine I listen to the shift it seems to almost move time further away to separate me from those mundane responsibilities of those in agony trapped inside their cubes of despair. Yet one experience fosters any additional euphoria to this state why that is the group ride.
I think my riding may be to religion the anti matter and functions best on Sundays when all those hostages of faith and fantasy are locked behind citadel doors in awe of ancient Philistine and Egyptian repetitions leaving me to the wide open lanes in a sobering state. No time to lick the wounds or stare gap mouth into the sky for what was never there I’m busy looking where my wheel will lead me the next road into the valley the bend around the lake or a chance to meet another rider out enjoying the day.

Now the familiarity note, I guess I’ve come to be known about town. At my local mail boxes I often get told things like “I wish I owned a bike like that” or “come over and check out my dirt bikes”. Some of the local women have made comments that I’m a bad influence. Once while bathing the CBR a flock of girls asked to take over and spent over 2 hours washing and drying it and were delighted when I offered them lemonade. I never ride faster than 25 in the neighborhood. At two of the grocery store the baggers fight over who gets to load my saddlebags. I’ve had families stand and stare while I’m loading pizzas onto the trunk rack. I never blast off or rev my engine. The modular helmet helps especially when you flip it up to speak. I wave a lot to every one. Many of the old timers walking that meet me walking say “you’re the one with the motorcycles”. I stop for dogs and cats. I’ll walk the GL at 2 or 3mph if kids are in the street. It’s weird when you’re going down the freeway and some clown in a car waves to you and smiles, but hey, you get used to it.
 
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