The Wave

Back when I had the Harley one of my favorite pastimes was rolling down the road waving at other motorcyclists.  Actually it’s not so much a wave as it is pointing your index finger out and slightly down – pointing at the asphalt – as if to say “it’s all about the road.”  It didn’t matter your machine: Harley, crotch rocket, endure, commuter, motorcycle cop whatever, the wave signaled that though we may look different we both have a shared passion; we are of the same tribe.

This is why I always wave to other bicyclists.  Well at least I try to, sometimes I’m grunting up a hill and need both hands on the bars, but most of the time.  Many of my rides are race training, and I’m all kitted out in my team colors; I’ll admit that sometimes racers get a bad rap: sometimes deserved, so I kind of see myself as an ambassador saying “yeah we may look overly serious but we’re just regular folk who, like you, are passionate about riding.

Screw the bike cliques I say, we’re all cut from the same cloth.