There was a time when I considered joining a motorcycle
riders club. You know the type of
club where riders get together in a parking lot somewhere and take a ride to a
planned destination, have coffee and then ride home. Kind of like Wild Hogs, but with more people.
That temptation passed and to be blunt there’s no way in
hell I’ll join a riders club.
One sunny Sunday afternoon and I fired up my motorcycle for
a 120-mile afternoon ride. The
road that leads out of town is filled with corners, elevation changes and
scenery that tourists plan months to come and see. It’s a riders dream!
Anyway, I’m having a fun time powering up the hill when I caught up with
a local riders club. They were all
on cruisers of various makes and all dressed the part of the leather-clad
biker. They were riding in
staggered formation and I couldn’t believe how slow they were riding,
especially around the corners. In
fact when they came to a corner the lead rider would put up his arm to indicate
that the formation should go single file.
After about 20 minutes of following the group and I was very
frustrated and wanted to to get by them.
We finally reached a passing lane and I was gone, giving a courtesy wave
as I rocketed past them.
Now I’m all for riding clubs. They provide a social setting for many bikers to meet others
with the same needs and likes and many provide additional practice training for
new riders. They’re just not for
me. I would go crazy if I had to
ride in a pack like the one I trailed all day. To me that’s not what riding is all about.
I do like to ride with friends who have the same style as I
do, fast paced and stop only for the essentials. Most of the time though, I ride alone. I choose the pace, where I go and how
long I’m gone. For me riding is
all about the ride and locking out everything else. It’s meditation on two wheels.
Gerald Trees
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