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|title: Motorcycles: Bikes for Nice People|
|summary: In which the respective cultures of bicycling and motorcycling are examined.|
|date: 2013-09-16 07:37:22|
|In a fit of consumptive vigor, I picked up an old Honda motorocycle this summer. A classic, a Honda CB500. I can't quite say why, except that I've been an enthusiastic bicyclist for many years, and this seemed a natural progression. A motorcycle is just a big bike. With a motor. That goes 100 mph.|
|## Bicycle Shops|
|Does anyone like them? I consider myself in their core demographic, at least, mostly: I'm white, bearded, some would say scrawny, I say pleasingly lithe (*swoon*). Walk into a bike shop anywhere across our fine nation, you'll see people who look like me, the carless, the vaguely eco-conscious, the righteous, the pseudo-vegetarian. And the bizarre thing--more often than not, these guys are assholes. That's certainly not always the case -- there are some fine stand-outs: Quad Bikes, administered by a fair crew at Yon Harvard. And I once spent a pleasant half-hour at Gurkin's in New Orleans.|
|A devestating memory from my childhood, or at least, from my adoloscense, was going into a "professional" bike store with my father. He, the consumate biker (or so I thought), was so dismissed, so...blah blash.|