Life usually uses them to pass our time.
I volunteered to help Marshall a pedal bike event and today’s cycle was cycles.
The event is called Little Red. It’s a Lady’s only series of bike courses in lengths of 27, 35, 50, 70, and 100 miles. They are not races but set courses with break stops, lunch, repair crews, SAG trucks, and course Marshalls.
The event numbered 3500 participants and their bikes.
I showed up for the fulfillment of my duties as a ride marshall and found my Yamaha and me surrounded by curious glares from the group of BMW riders.
I have a cruiser that might to the untrained eye be confused with a Harley Davidson. BMW and Harley guys are not the friendliest to each other. I was somewhat accepted once it became claimed that I rode a Non-Harley. Then a Harley showed. Harley riders generally don’t like “Metrics” either.
One BMW guy admitted that they had a Gold Winger in the group. A tone of charity on his voice. I can’t explain the Gold Wing thing even with a blog post of its own. Let’s just say they’re like your odd cousin that you only see every 3-4 years and have nothing in common but a relation that you’re not sure how to explain to someone outside of your family.
A couple of Ducati’s showed. Most riders are kind of cool with the Italian bikes. It’s hard for me to see how they’re so different from other bikes but I get the impression that their owners think they do. “Duck” owners I believe don’t think much of non-ducks, but they never express it.
Somehow the ragtag group of Motor-cycles got it together and marshalled the ride of the Trek, Specialized, Cannondale, and various other types of pedal bikes used today.
The event ended, I packed up my bike and headed home.
On the way home I stopped for gas. Waiting to pull out of the gas station, a trio of bikes passed. There was something different about them. Obviously Harley, the three rode in a tighter formation than typical weekend warrior riders. I set out to investigate.
As I neared from behind, I noticed the three part patchwork on the back of their jackets. MC members. A real MC. The bad asses. The real McCoy. The ones the weekend group tries to dress like. I neared enough to see the name of the club and followed at a distance for a few miles.
The group slowed and I quickly caught up to them. I’d like to think they wanted to know who tailed them. I maintain my speed and passed them from the right lane.
As I passed I nodded my head to say hello to the two on my side. We made eye contact and I got nods back. I could sense their disdain but I got an acknowledgement and that was cool.
Despite our differences, we share a commonality- the two wheels under our machines. That was enough for that moment.
From pedal bikes to Milwaukee to Europe to Japan to MC Bikers. I think I ran the Cycle Cycle today.