WHAT’S A BIKER?

One of the simple pleasures in my life is that of owning and operating my Harley-Davidson motorcycle. (I bought a new Sportster in December 1996; I put about 4000-5000 miles a year on it, and just recently upgraded to a shiny new 2000 twin-cam Dyna. I’ve owned several other motorcycles over the years, and have ridden since I was 12 or so.) In fact, I enjoy most every aspect of my Harley experience, except for the heavy “psychological baggage” that comes with it.

Unlike most other motorcycles, people talk about owning a Harley as a “lifestyle” thing. And for some, I’m sure it’s true – their choice is to make their motorcycle the focal point of their lives. Back in the 60s, they even made “biker” movies about Harley riders – ya just don’t see movies about outlaws driving Buicks, or even rogues on Gold Wings. In the seventies, I had a “biker” friend. I dropped him off at the “biker” house late one night – and I was amazed to see every available square foot in the living room (!!) occupied by big ol’ hogs. Cool! But, is there dishonor in living a life that doesn’t necessarily revolve around the two-wheeler? Some “bikers” seem to think so.

What is a “biker,” anyway? Does one need to abandon all non-motorcycle interests and activities to be a “biker”? “I pledge allegiance to my Hog…” Is a “biker” defined by his motorcycle, or his attire, or his attitude? Does one need to achieve a certain number of motorcycle miles in a year, in order to be a “biker”? Can one be a “biker” if he rides an Evo, or if he doesn’t wear a leather jacket? Or if, Heaven forbid, he wears a helmet even when not required by law to do so? Is there an outside chance that somebody on a non-Harley can be a “biker”? How about the Harley clones? Can a guy riding a Titan or a Big Dog ever hope to be a “biker”? Can one be a “biker” if he gestures (in a friendly manner!) to riders of other motorcycles, who are obviously NOT “bikers”? And perhaps most importantly, is NOT being a “biker” such a shameful, embarrassing situation that it should be avoided at all costs?

The self-proclaimed “bikers” like to level criticism at the “RUBs” (rich urban bikers) and the “posers” (non-“bikers” trying to look and act like “bikers”). And indeed, you see guys in their stiff, shiny leather jackets and britches, with their bandanna headgear and half-finger leather gloves, and they look like cartoon characters! (Or like they’re ready to go trick-or-treating!) The poor dudes look so uncomfortable that it’s hard not to pity them! But, could one argue that the strange behavior exhibited by the “posers” is a direct result of the pressure imposed by the “bikers”? Are we all obligated to keep track of who’s a “real biker” and who’s just a worthless “poser”? It sometimes seems that the “bikers” of the world spend more time and energy doing these important evaluations, than they do riding their motorcycles! And the “posers” of the world are frequently so busy trying to look the part, and be in the right places to be seen looking the part, that they don’t have much time left for riding. (Many don’t feel comfortable on a highway, away from civilization, anyway.)

Now… there’s no denying that part of the appeal of riding a Harley-Davidson is the rumble… the vibration… the “danger” and mystique. I have friends who can’t understand how I could possibly choose a primitive contraption like a Harley over a Gold Wing or Venture. They speak of the noise, the vibration, the wind in the face, as things to be avoided whenever possible. And that’s fine – those big touring machines are marvels of transportation science. But in my mind, trading noise and vibration for cruise control and surround sound dilutes the experience. (Just the same, I don’t have disdain for people who make another choice, and I have tremendous respect for people who hop on their touring rigs and log thousands of Interstate miles. I know a couple in their late 70s – they celebrate their golden wedding anniversary in a couple weeks – who likely ride more miles in a year than most of the “bikers” of the world.)

So… what’s my point? I guess my point is that I don’t know how to positively identify a “biker,” don’t even know whether or not I’m a “biker,” and as a rider of a Harley-Davidson, I’m wondering if my ignorance is a problem.

Steve Hulme, May 2000