In my line of work, I am fortunate to ride many fantastic and notably different motorcycles. While some stand out as being superior, they all have something to offer their intended audience. As I could be on any number of models in any given week, I have never really been a die hard for any specific brand. While some guys are all about Gixxers and others wouldn’t be caught dead on anything but a Harley, I will happily get behind the bars of anything on two wheels. Yes, I suppose that makes me a slut of sorts but I’m not to worried about getting a reputation. When going on weekend rides with friends the only constant is that there isn’t one. Pre and post ride, my driveway will be filled with Ducatis, Hondas, BMWs, Yamahas and even Harleys. Even my own bikes have ranged from cruisers, standards and sportbikes from various manufacturers, so I have never been one to discriminate between rides or riders for that matter.
It occurred to me while riding the 09’ Hayabusa that not everyone seems to feel that way. While crotch rocket riders were soiling themselves at the site of the new king of the hill, older guys on cruisers would ignore my left handed gesture of brotherhood almost consistently. I guess they didn’t realize that the guy on the bright orange Busa’ was the same guy who wrenched on his 84’ Maxim or cruises back country roads on his Shadow.
While contemplating this sociological conundrum, I encountered a middle-aged man in a suit riding a Vespa who gave me an assured nod as he passed. Not only did it catch me off guard, it solidified my belief that behind the visor we are all the same. Regardless of what we ride, it’s why we ride that really matters.