What is it with motorcycles and tough guys? Since the 1950’s motorcycling in America has been largely thought about as a rebellious act. We can be viewed as either the fringes of society or simply the people you don’t want to mess with. Hollywood jumped onto this trend early with “The Wild One” and outside of Honda’s famous ad campaign of “You meet the nicest people on a Honda” it’s been largely a culture of “are you tough enough to ride?” ever since. Don’t sit here and read this in disagreement while staring at your DVD box set of Sons of Anarchy either. If we aren’t tough ourselves, for the most part, we want to be tough or at the very least, watch tough people ride motorcycles. One of my favorite stories from my cousin was him making fun of the motorcycle “two fingers down” wave (it is ridiculous guys, stop it. If you want to wave, wave, there’s no theatrics needed) was that “back in the 70’s we didn’t do no sissy two finger wave. We put a fist in the air because we were sticking it to the man.” Poetic.

For the largest part of the last 20 years, my livelihood was based around motorcycles. From building racetracks to selling tires, there was only a few years in there that I wasn’t in the industry in some capacity. I’ve seen some stuff. Not as much as the older folk, but definitely more than most of my contemporaries. This at times leads me to have a somewhat jaded attitude towards motorcycle culture in general, but at the end of the day, I love motorcycles even more now than I ever have. As a motorcyclist yourself, I know you can attest to the fact that everywhere you go, there’s somebody who knows something about motorcycles. Whether it’s at the gas pump where the old timer says, “you know, I used to ride one of those.” To the lady in HR that tells you how dangerous bikes are, you can’t escape it. Once people know you ride, they are helpless in the endeavor to tell you how much they know about two wheels. This doesn’t stop when you work in the industry at trade show booths or events either. What I’ve always been surprised by is how hard most of the motorcycle culture tries to simply be tough.

I’ll give you an example, my full-time job isn’t in the motorcycle industry anymore (which is the reason this blog is called the outsider.) but to my point in the paragraph above, there are several people I work with now that either ride, used to ride, or know somebody that rides. One of the former riders approached me a few days ago and asked why I didn’t ride to work that day, or why I don’t ride to work every day. On that particular day there was a good chance of rain in the afternoon and I just didn’t want to deal with it. I don’t want to ride home from work in rain, get everything wet, and then on top of it all have a messy motorcycle. That’s my choice and stance, as sissy as it may seem. Immediately this guy went on about how “back when he rode” he rode in every condition. Rain, cold, and I’m sure uphill in the snow both ways. Some people ride for the pleasure, some the adrenaline and then others the challenge. After racing for 25 years now, I’ve done the challenge part. Racing is also where I get my adrenaline fix, or maybe pushing it to the primary cover or exhaust on my dyna from time to time on my favorite roads. What do I ride for? The pleasure. What’s wrong with that? Why does that make me any less of a “biker?”

While I don’t have a particularly fun way to go to work, there is a 35 mile loop that I can easily hit after work that is particularly mind clearing for me. There are the hardcore types that tell me that if I don’t ride my motorcycle a certain amount, I’m not a “real” biker. If I don’t want to ride in the rain, I’m not a “real” biker. If I don’t ride in the cold, I’m not a “real” biker. Are you serious? Who wants to go to work wet? Oh yes, I know there’s gear out there for that, but anyone who has ridden in the rain knows, there’s no such thing as 100% dry on a motorcycle. Who wants to get to work and be cold? Especially those folks who have to work in the elements already. If you’ve got a person in your circle that demeans how and when you ride, it’s probably time to find a different circle. Ride when you can, and ride when you feel like riding. Riding shouldn’t be a chore, nor should it be some sort of badge of honor. I’ve got the same level of respect for a beginner on a 1994 Honda Rebel that I do for someone on the latest CVO. Live and let live y’all. So here’s my challenge to you all, drop the ego. Also remember that I read this through about 4 times before posting, so I need to listen to my own words.

While I’m at it, we don’t have to cosplay because we ride motorcycles. Dress yourselves in protective gear, but we all know that your top hat is only worn because you’re a fan of Abraham Lincoln, or maybe the mayor of a gold rush town in the 1870’s. Ride your bikes and don’t shame another rider because they aren’t as “tough” as you. This whole culture gets better the more people that are involved, and if we are less intimidating, more welcoming and less fake, the entire sport from racing to legislation changes in our favor.

For my final note, I recently attended a Jeep event in Daytona. After dozens of motorcycle events in the sunshine state, I grew accustomed to what was involved. There are a lot of parallels between the Jeep and American V-Twin culture; individualism, pride, willingness to part ways with incredible amounts of cash for their “toys” etc., but the one thing I noticed was the beautiful lack of attitudes. Namely poor, tough guy ones. Bike Week goers could learn a thing or two from the Jeep crowd.

So lay down your sword, ride your motorcycle however you want, and let’s all have a great riding season.