Not A Real Rider

The Ratz and Mice certainly felt unwanted by the cool kids on the beach. 

No matter how much effort has been made to desegregate the population, there will always be those who desire separation.  Perhaps it's such a great part of our DNA that we can not feel safe unless we are determining who is superior and who is inferior.

Anyone who has ridden a motorcycle for more than 5 minutes will tell you this fact is evident in the motorcycling community.  In fact, the terms "brotherhood" and "sisterhood" could not be any less true.  There are cliques within every society and the motorcycling community is certainly filled with them.

Recently, I was called "a fat, old woman on a cruiser" by a kid on a sport bike. He insisted I probably didn't even know how to ride. The fat and old part is subjective, in my opinion. The only part he got right was I am a woman. Of course, I had the last laugh when I shared with him some of the facts about my travels.

So how do you identify?

Are you a young, foolish, hipster pretending to ride a real motorcycle?  An old, fat, leather-clad, Harley Davidson pirate?  A dangerous, speed-demon, sport bike idiot?  A poser with the hottest, new selfie-accessory; a cruiser to nowhere? A textile-wearing,  snooty, wealthy Power Ranger riding an adventure monstrosity? An overly-paranoid, ATGATT-gospel-preaching, covered-head-to-toe gear Nazi? A brainless, helmetless, shorts-and-flip flop-wearing, soon-to-be organ donating, squid?

Are you a nice guy on a Honda?  A gadget geek on a Goldwing? A loser on a scooter?  Do loud pipes save lives or are stock pipes good enough?  Are you proud to stand roadside next to your broken down American muscle?  An unpatriotic, pinko, Commie bastard on a metric?  Are you tree-hugging, granola-eating, liberal on an electric saving Mother Earth with every mile?  Or are you a gas-guzzling, self serving, capitalist pig?

It doesn't really matter where you fall in these categories.  You may not fall in any one of them.  But I guarantee someone, somewhere along the line pointed out what made you different because you didn't fit in their group.

Of course the end all be all insult is, "He/She is not a real rider!"

And I guarantee that someone has said that about you at some point.

"Do what you're gonna do. Just don't victimize anybody while you're doing it."
- Kathy Cartwright

I know that Steve and I have a different identity from one another and neither one of us really fits into any specific category or with any particular group. We usually ride together and I occasionally ride with some much younger women in San Diego. The ladies I ride with don't have a coarse word to say about anyone. They just love to ride.

I have simply become nauseated with all of the comparisons, finger pointing, and insults. Get over your damn selves. And for fucksake, just shut the hell up about each other and ride!




Help me out by adding a little fuel to my bank account. My ebook, "Rude Biker Chick: Lessons From My Daddy" is available for purchase here. If not for you, buy a copy for a friend. The woman in your life will love you for it. Thanks!