I didnít use to understand the whole motorcycle cult thing. I didnít get the rallies, I didnít get the gangs, and I didnít even understand the apparel thing. I especially didnít understand why some people were so obsessed with Harley Davidson. The bike had to be a Harley Davidson, the chaps had to be Harley Davidson, the clothes had to be Harley Davidson, and anyone else who rides with them had to ride a Harley Davidson. Why was it so important and why did they even care? All they are going to do is kill themselves anyway riding their motorcycles around. It absolutely did not make any sense to me at all.
Of course, all of that was before I actually got on a bike. I didnít want to initially. In a way I was peer pressured into doing something I didnít want to do. In the end, I did get on the bike. I got on the back of my friends bike for what he said would be a short ride around the neighborhood. Iím not sure if we did actually stay in the neighborhood because the whole time I had my arms wrapped tightly around his torso and my head in his back with my eyes closed. I know the ride was short, but I really have no idea where we went. I was terrified. The worst part was that everyone back at the house laughed at me. They thought it was hilarious that I would hang on like that. I didnít think it was funny. I didnít laugh with them; I only got angry because they were laughing at me, so I made him take me for another ride, this time for a longer one.
Oh my goodness! And now I get it. I completely get it. I sat up straighter, I relaxed, and I enjoyed. It was the best. I have to get one. I have been missing out. It doesnít look like much when you see someone on a motorcycle, but after you get on one and experience it, you know. It feels like your flying a little bit. I donít even mind all of the wind and noise. In fact, I crave it now. I am definitely going bike shopping so I can ride with everyone now. I am also going to the biker rallies that are close by and I am getting a Harley Davidson motorcycle jacket.