I would think we have all been through this scenario.
You meet somebody, perhaps at a dinner party or family gathering, and when they hear that you ride a motorcycle their whole demeanor and bearing takes a slight shift… Sometimes their head and shoulders will shift back a bit and the eyes might slide from the norm to a slightly sharper gaze.
You already know what is coming, or at least you have a short list of what to expect.
It usually involves a cousin’s girlfriend’s half-brother long-distance family member recently discovered on Ancestory.com that was killed, maimed, upset, or generally treated rudely by a motorcycle.
I recall riding down in an elevator with Shira’s parents, the elevator stopped at another floor and the door opened and a couple with a baby stroller holding twins came on. The woman was blossoming, and obviously going for the Hat Trick family-wise. We all nodded a polite hello to each other.
She turned and looked at Shira and me – full Aerostich suits on and helmets in hand. Then she said it. Bad enough that some in the general public feel the need to say something thoughtless and ungracious; but she said it, speaking over our heads to make eye contact with the older couple standing behind us - Shira’s parents.
I braced for impact – here it comes.
“Oh, you ride a motorcycle? You know, a girl I went to college with was killed on one of those. You will never see me or my kids on something so dangerous.”
Well, thank you Miss Procreation. What the F**k, lady? I thought.
I could feel Shira’s parents stiffen next to me, needlessly angsted by this woman… whose husband sadly kept his eyes averted during this.
Did I bring up the high percentage of PPD in suburban mothers, or how children disappoint their parents as they grow up?
Heck, no I would never do that. That would have been diabolical.
Accidents happen. Bad things happen. But, in the United States, the attitude towards motorcycles and motorcycle riders has been horribly skewed for decades with misinformation, disdain, and at times feelings bordering on hatred.
In Europe, motorcycles are part of life. Here in the US – not so much.
But how did these feeling of contempt get their start?
It might have begun in Newark, New Jersey on September 8th, 1912, at the Vailsburg Motordrome outside Newark, New Jersey. This was one of many regional “board tracks”, and due to their circular shape and steep banking we often called “Saucer Tracks.” Bikes would run around these tracks – wide open, no brakes at 90 + miles per hour.
Spectators, on the grandstands above, could get a close-up view of the action, and like many motorsports disasters that happen when spectators are allowed too close – the worst that could happen did.
Eddie Hasha hailed from Waco, Texas, and was a proven champion – he was called the Texas Tornado a century before Colin Edwards would take that moniker. That sunny Sunday race at the Newark Motordrome had over 5,000 spectators who came down to see some serious motorcycle racing.
On the third lap of the main race, Hasha’s machine began to have mechanical issues, and the racer reached down to see if he could make an adjustment, and as he did the rider behind him went for the pass; Hasha went for the block, but then lost control and turned sharply into the rail surrounding the track.
As the racer and machine skate-boarded the spectator rail they killed a young boy who had his head over the rail to watch the race, and then continued into the crowd killing four others and Eddie Hasha, the bike then hit a pole and shot back, dropping onto the track and right onto the line of last place racer Johnny Albright.
Albright died hours later at a Newark hospital.
It was total mayhem as the crowds ran in panic, trampling many in the mad rush, and leaving many with broken bones and lacerations.
The following days the headlines were not good for the future of Saucer Track racing. America began to sour on motorcycles.
It should be noted on this same day four spectators were killed and almost 20 injured when pilot Pierre Biard lost control of his airplane and plowed into the crowd at an air meet in Gray, Haute-Saône, France.
But the French did not let this spoil the future of aviation in their nation.
Further incidents in the future did not help the motorcyclist's cause at all, and certainly public opinion was swayed, by an article in Collier’s Magazine by humorist George Fitch. Collier’s was one of the most popular publications of the day – and their words were sometimes taken as Gospel. Although a top contributing editor to Collier’s, and one of the most popular humorists of the day, on this subject Fitch wrote out his cheeks. Admitting that this entire story was told to him (or not) by a friend named Allie Ferris – whom he learned about motorcycles vicariously "with no expenditure of money or epidermis."
Some of the quotes from Fitch’s piece go like this…
"A motorcycle is a bicycle with a pandemonium attachment and is designed for the especial use of mechanical geniuses, daredevils, and lunatics." "Don’t you know you can get the same sensations by tying firecrackers to your legs and sitting over an oil heater?”
Yes, George was writing for the laughs – and the entire article is admittedly funny.
But to the American public what was penned tongue-in-cheek was taken as the truth and became dogma for the less adventurous public – which was most of them.
Still, at the end of his parody, Fitch asks his friend if he "really" enjoyed his motorcycle.
“Enjoy it!” Said Allie “Why, man, I swelled up with pleasure. You don’t realize how much fun it is to take a map out and browse over it with a motorcycle. You can take a gallon of gas and make a regular Columbus out of yourself”
I could not have said it any better, Allie. Good for you.