Bikers Are The Best, Give Them a Hug
It's my favorite time of year. The weather is fine and riding is great. It is also the time when I am most proud to be a biker. I like to refer to this as the "Hugging time of year." You see, I get a little corny this time of year because I think the biker community deserves more credit than it receives. Bikers get very little credit from the media, (TV or newspapers) so old Dano believes that hugging is the answer to showing appreciation to the biker community. It's the time of year where the character of bikers really comes to the front. No, not the character you showed when you tried to crawl on stage at the wet-t contest or when you had one too many "brewskis" and still tried to ride in the mud field events.
I'm talking about the type of character exhibited when bikers raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for needy folks and children who need a little boost along the way. On a recent December weekend in Lakeland, as I returned home from our motorcycle training class, I was lucky enough to get to watch the Polk County ABATE Toys-for-Tots Parade of Bikes pass by. Although I felt bad for missing this run that my wife and I have ridden in for so many years, I suddenly realized I had a chance to enjoy the size and scope of this great event as never before. Some 400 bikers of all shapes and pedigrees rode everything from hard-core Harley's to sport bikes and trikes. They had gathered to help make Christmas special for some kids in the Polk county area. I pulled my truck and trailer onto the median and honked and waved like an eight year-old just to let my fellow bikers know how much I appreciate their kindness and generosity. As the riders went by, I got a little misty eyed remembering all the charity runs I have ridden in over the years and thinking of all the smiles that would come from the toys bungeed to the backs of scooters. I also thought of all of the hard work that bikers do year-round to help those in need. Generous bikers don’t gather just at Christmas. It really doesn't need to be the holiday season for bikers to congregate for good causes. In fact most gatherings of bikers during the year have a charity theme. Rarely do these events charge for entry, asking instead for a voluntary gift for someone in need.
I first realized the generosity of the bike community when I was at Daytona Bike Week about 20 years ago. Upon his arrival at this event, a fellow biker backed into the curb in the traditional style and dismounted his trusty Harley near where I was parked. While his lady friend worked on fluffing her helmet-head in his single mirror, the H-D electrical wiring burst into flames. The rider and several fellow bikers tried using their leather jackets to extinguish the flames but it was apparent the Harley was ruined. As the bike, still sitting on its kick-stand, smoldered into ruin the mood was somber. Passers-by showed the kind of respect we experience at funeral homes. Of course, the fire department came, but it was too late. The electrical storm had worked quickly and decisively. The trusty iron steed needed a rebuild. A young fireman apologized that they couldn't get there quicker but with 600,000 bikers reveling in the streets of Daytona the firefighters really didn't have a chance. The rough looking biker offered his tattooed hand to the young buzz-cut firefighter and thanked him. It really wasn't anyone’s fault.
As we all looked on trying to think of something we might do to help in this guys plight, a burly patch holder walked up and put his stickered beanie helmet on the sidewalk behind the smoking bike. He retrieved a twenty from his chain drive wallet and threw it into the helmet. As he walked off, he said quietly, "I'd just spend it on beer anyway". It was as if this rowdy one-percenter had provided the surrounding bikers with a wonderful way to give some relief to the owner of this scorched Harley. I was one of the first to pull a few bucks from my pocket and drop it in the helmet. It felt great to help someone at the very moment they needed it most. The long procession of strangers continued for probably an hour and I watched bikers of all types put 10’s and 20’s into this ragged beanie helmet. It didn't take long for the helmet to overflow. A kind clean-cut, grandma-looking lady with a Gold Wing patch began organizing the money and making room for more as the crowd grew. It was very quiet. No one said anything. No one was looking for any credit, or thanks. No one was looking for anything other than an opportunity to help a fellow rider. A six year-old girl did break the silence by telling the owner she was sorry about his Harley as she put some coins into the helmet from her vest pocket. The biker smiled and gave her a wink. At first the owner of the bike looked a little puzzled as the money began to grow and then he began to tear up. He pulled out his bandana to wipe up as his girlfriend, still with helmet-head, took his charred hand and began to smile. She summed it all up with one comment. Not speaking to anyone special, she said, "These people are the best."
That's exactly what I thought when I watched the 400 Polk county bikers riding in the ABATE fund raiser. You see, as the helmet-headed woman taught me 20 years ago, "These people are the best." Give them a hug, they deserve it. Ride Safe
