Free Wheelin'

But your money for nothin' and your chicks for free

Well, them Groupie Girls ain't what they're cracked up to be

Well not all of them anyway

There’ll Be Some Changes Made - Mark Knopfler & Chet Atkins

Groupie:

Noun slang. 1. an ardent fan of a celebrity, especially a pop star: originally, often a girl who followed the members of a pop group on tour in order to have sexual relations with them. 2. an enthusiastic follower of some activity.

What do you ride? What do you wish you rode?

Over the years we all might get pigeon-holed into the thought that we only have one true love, and will ride one brand of motorcycle. It’s sad – but true.

Motorcycles and cars (guitars too) are the same as pretty girls. They all look good and catch an eye (boys too, or girls again if that is what swings your helmet – I don’t give a hoot – it’s all good.)

We all have preferences, and over the years they sometimes morph from a strong like, to a preference to a poured in concrete & etched in stone.

I like to think I have kept myself in the middle.

I like adventure machines, and bikes that have an upright seating, wide bar stance – what some call standard.

Bikes like the Suzuki V-Strom, Shira's Honda 919, and my BMW R 1250 GS all have somewhat similar seating positions. It works for me.

I have nothing against pure sports bikes – but, for me, a Ducati Panigale would be fun for about a 20-minute session – on a track; after that… I will need to stretch.

Last season I got a superb chance to spend a good deal of time on Harley-Davidson’s Pan America CVO; riding back from South Dakota.

Wonderful journey – exemplarily machine. What was not to like about this? I said as much in these pages.

But, then the emails and text messages began to trickle in, and many of them did not follow our stringent Backroads’ DEI Guidelines – Drive Everything Intensely.

“Wow, getting rid of your BMW?”

“Did you have to get a H-D tattoo?”

“Ewww, you turn-coat, ya!”

Most of them were good-natured, but one or two even I would not throw at y'all – ‘cause they were…what’s the word…? Right, they were assholes.

But that brings me back to Motorcycle Groupies.

I have two friends that are die-hard in their loyalty. Let’s call them Keene and John, so as not to pick on anybody in particular. Both these men – who are superior riders in my mind – are locked in on their preference.

Sure, they do own other marques and models. But, push come to shove, Keene is wearing Yamaha blue, and John, his Ducati red colors proudly!

Then there were the many, and I mean MANY, riders and once-riders that I spoke with while piloting the Pan America east.

The bright orange and black Harley-Davidson proudly said so on the tank – but many of the faithful (I wasstarting at Sturgis) were not all that sure how to deal with this machine. To many, it was a curiosity, and most queries were valid, and thoughtful, and most comments were spot-on as well.

But there were a few A/H barbs tossed my way too.

In addition to riding one of the brightest livery schemes on the road that day – I was also keenly aware that my Aerostich Roadcrafter suit was spot on to match. The combination of them made me tawdry – but I got noticed – for good or for bad.

Looking back, I certainly looked and played the part of the “Sycophant Groupie” on this trip – even if I was just trying to see everything of interest between the Rockies and the Maine coast.

I guess my point is you sail on whatever water floats your boat.

Then other day my good friend Carter came over, with his mom Heather and big sis Lilly to light candles for the first ever 9th day of Hanukkah. Carter is all of 8 years old, and when he got a look at the stable of bikes in the barn he asked, “Which is your favorite.”

I told him honestly, “Whatever one I am riding Carter, whatever one I am riding”. And the best thing was each one of those machines was magical to him.