Ok, It irritates the crap out of me when someone, 2 people at work, buy a harley, in this case a pair of trikes, and think they are total bad asses. I mean litterly overnight they went from polaris snowmobile riders, and honda quad riders to a "bad *** biker" She even went a got a freekin tattoo on her lower forearm.

And when she hopps on her trike, her elbows go up, her back arches, she lights up a cigarette, and puts on her best bad *** look.

Total posers. Ive been riding bikes all my life, and have been on a harley for a while now, but I havent gone nutso over having a harley. Yes I give the metric guys crap, but they dish it back.

The other day I was in a dealer who had 2 stores, metric, and Harley. This dude came inn litterally wearing a pair of dress shorts, flops, and a golfers polo. Must have had cash cause while I was buying my Ultra he bought a street glide, a leather coat, a bunch of shirts, chaps, gloves, and boots. An overnight transformation.

Im sure he was gearing up for Sturgis, or Algona or something just so his ego could feel warm and fuzzy.

Kind of a rant here, but man I wishthe POSERS would just stick to the leadwings,

Kasey

 

At least they keep everyone entertained!

 

the moco needs the posers to stay in business...they buy most of the new bikes that are sold. the posers then provide well maintained low mileage used bikes for the rest of us. they are a very important part of the supply chain. accept them for what they are--some of them will even become bikers!

 

Well then you need to get a f***ing life and quit worrying about what "someone" else does.

 

Well, here's my little rant.
there used to be few of us. When we crossed each other on the road, we raised a fist in the wind, just because it was nice to see another biker from time to time. Now, you'd get a nasty cramp in your biceps if you'd give the "Harley-wave" (yup, that's what they call it nowadays) to everybody.
We used to gather in places like Sturgis, Daytona and Laconia. Then, in the 90ies, something changed. The lawyers and clean cut cubicle monkeys started showing up, and there were more and more every year. They transformed the bike weeks into family events, showing up with their trailers, their RVs and their little spoiled brats. The old hardcore people couldn't even find each other anymore, because the whole thing became huge, and with those clowns came the greedy vendors and all those people who just wanted what's in your wallet.
Society used to leave us alone. We kept for ourselves on our side of the fence, and the lawyers, teachers and insurance agents stood on theirs. We stood up for ourselves and for another. We were'nt pretty. Beards, long hair, and what the fancy guys on here call now "pirate outfit". Then, it became a fashion statement to ride a Harley, and all those nice citizens started riding, just to show their community that they could afford a harley with more bling then the next guy. Didn't make them bikers, tho. It takes more then moving a bike from A to B to be one. It takes *****. Want an example? Take Gypsylady. Lost an arm in a motorcycle accident, got back on her feet, and first thing she does is to get a bike that fits her needs, and get back on the road. That girl has more grit then a million of these stock brokers in their overpriced high viz gear, their full face helmets and their HD brand mesh jackets.
The rest of society used to look down on us. In their book, we were scum, and we used to pitty them for their way of life. Now, those buffoons wat the best of both worlds. They want their nice 9-5 jobs, their fancy houses with white picket fences and 2 car garage, they want their middle class cage and their middle class hobbies AND they want to be like us. They dress up on the week end as if it was fuggin halloween, and would love to blend in with the real guys (yep, still a few of us out there). What they don't get is that as long as you have the cops on speed dial #1. your layer on #2, and your office number on #3, you won't get acceptance from the old hardcore crowd.
And patches. They love patches. HOG, SOA, black label society, silent skulls. If not that, it has to at least be a ***** G. skull on their brand store jacket. HD everywhere. 5 times on their jacket, twice on the kevlar reinforced pants, the boots, the belt, the zippo (if they really dare smoking, duh), a HD ring, sunglasses, helmet (yuck), and so on. Gotta show what you got.
2 weeks ago, I met one of the old school guys. He was on a RK custom, having a coffee next door to where I work. He even stopped riding for a while, when those legions of biker playing suburb warriors took over. Sometimes, I exactly know how that feels like.
BTW, I just described 98% of the people on here. Guys like that cameraboy clown, or that Dan Conner jackwagon, are a dime a dozen here. Others, like twizted biker, Hamburglar, Gumpmeister, Gonzeh, Alkay and few others, not so much.

 

See that's why I like Frenchie here. He speaks the truth. Those types he talks about are like f0cking kudzu these parts. Sorta like that slugbait over on the main thread who got something like 350 replies on why people dress in Harley gear. There's a whole sub-culture that is absolutely clueless about what riding a Harley in the '60s or even '70s was like. And a lot of the sons of bitches are mean little twerps to boot.

The new Harley wave? I don't...

All repect, frenchman...

 

Maybe the guy has taken his motorcycle course, obtained his endorsement and has finally reached a level in his life where he can afford what he's always wanted, possibly even saved enough to avoid the finance charges. Maybe he didn't have any gear, because he's never had a bike. Maybe he can finally live the dream and be able to ride down the road with the biggest grin on his face he's ever had.

Evidently this guy has joined the very crowd Frenchman preaches about. I jumped the gun a bit with my post. I don't claim to be a biker, like those mentioned, those that do deserve respect and the tag of "biker". I just ride a Harley; it's my fourth, if you count my Buell. Before that it was Hondas and Yamahas. And yeah, my office is a cubicle in a high rise. But for a brief moment most every day, I get to live in another world that exists when I climb on the back of my Harley.

 

And maybe I stole my first Harley from the basement of a clinic that treated some loser after he melted on acid and took the bus back to Ohio leaving a mildly bent Sportster that no one wanted. And maybe I paid Dudley Perkins for the parts by selling weed in the Fillmore West. And maybe I stuck a guy who I found trying to steal the carb off that bike outside my flat so he maybe wouldn't do it again.

We all have a story...

 

Don't flatter yourself

Perhaps it's you that's out of touch then.

 

I was at laconia Bike week last week and I was in traffic. The guy in front of me was riding an electra glide standard. He had the look. Shaved head, tats all over his arms with a bandage on his brand new tat to keep it out of the sun. This guy could not ride a bike for ****! He revved the bike up to about 4k and barley let the clutch out. You could smell the clutch every time he stopped and started up again. Once he got moving in traffic, he was wobbling all over the road like a kid riding a bicycle for the first time. I felt like telling him to learn how to ride before coming to events like Laconia where he could hurt himself and others.