The Righteous and the Damned
Motorcyclists are known by the bike they ride. And men are known by the company they keep.
These veritable truths account for why Harley riders are only seen on the road with their own kind. Whether on reconnaissance in local territories, carrying the flag from coast to coast in a well-regulated convoy or striking a daring posse deep into the uncharted badlands, Harley men place their trust and confidence in other men of proven substance and robust character. Men who can be counted on through good times and bad. Men who never surrender, and don't take prisoners. Men who have the integrity and honor of real American motorcyclists. Men who make up the Harley-Davidson brethren.
There's no place among these men for anyone looking for a false way in and an easy way out. There's no place for men or bikes that by artifice are here today but by expediency will be gone tomorrow. There's no place for those who swear allegiance to far-eastern feudalism by riding atrocity cycles slammed together in some godforsaken land. There's no place for the snivelling lisp and depraved cowardice of squids who would make a slobbering mockery of real American motorcycling.
That leaves the atrocity riders off on their own, with a façade of pose and pretence, and a despair of resentment and bitterness. Taking the Asian badges off their throwaway contraptions out of shame, but leaving a space as blank as their empty souls. Carrying on with a sham travesty of brotherhood that's nothing but a hollow charade. Pretending to be the real deal but fooling nobody. Not ordinary American folk, who are comforted that all is well on the home front only when they see genuine Harleys lead their Fourth of July parades down the Main Streets of America. Not womenfolk, who by intuition know the deep rumble of the mighty Big Twin as the unmistakeable confirmation that real men are in command of the nation's destiny. Not even youngsters, who have a keen sense of authentic role models and clearly know the difference between a real American motorcycle and some knock-off in tin and plastic.
There's a fork early on in the road for every motorcyclist in America, with paths going off in opposite directions. A life membership in the brotherhood of righteousness is part of the authentic Harley-Davidson experience. A life sentence among the damned is reserved for the impostors.
Choose carefully, ‘cause there's no turnin' back.
-The Highwayman
I was just adding my anecdotal experience which like yours above really doesn't mean much of anything.
I had an old friend that rode BMWs and he actually told me alot of the weird little generalizations aimed at BMW riders because I hadn't heard them before.
