As much as we like to complain about it, Britain’s public transport system is amazing! We can probably get to 90% of the country any day we choose, more often than not at a choice of times throughout the day or night. For many years I have contentedly (or occasionally grudgingly) used this brilliant service to travel round the country – whether flying back and forth from Edinburgh to London, jumping on trains and tubes around The City and the South East, or bussing in and out of whichever town I happen to be living in. And apart from the occasional cold spell spent waiting and grumbling in the rain, this has always worked fine.
But the thing about living in Australia – a country the size of Europe with the population of Greater London – is that it’s just impossible to have trains leaving every five minutes to every populated patch of land. You’d need more train drivers than there are people across the whole continent! And so it has finally become necessary for me to evolve from Driven to Driver and procure my own set of wheels.
If I have to transport myself around though, I want to have fun. I can’t afford a plane or helicopter, a boat is only practical for seaside destinations, jet-packs are still far too impractical and economically inefficient, so that left me deciding on a motorbike. With the words from Iron Maiden’s From Here to Eternity and Megadeth’s 502 running through my head I completed a few hours of training, and was then sent through the gates of the training centre legally allowed to make a mess of myself on the Devil’s Bend or under any of the 88 wheels of a road train. I was back on track for that big Rock n Roll crash ending I’d always half-expected!
I won’t bore you with details of any of my near-misses, minor crashes, or even the major ones, but one phenomenon I have noticed which tickles me is the exclusive club I seem to have involuntarily joined. When I first started riding, I would occasionally think that I saw another rider on the road nod his head in my direction, but the more time I spent on the road the more I realised this was definitely happening. Maybe they think they recognised me – we must all look fairly similar with helmets and leathers on – but no, that’s not it. I know they can’t be acknowledging the quality of my ride; it’s a scuffed-up 22-year-old Japanese shit-heap! But still if a fellow rider pulled up beside me at the lights, cruised by whilst overtaking, or came past in the opposite lane he would look across and dip his head.
Then I realised this was simply an acknowledgement that we were on a vehicle with the same number of wheels. We were part of a prestigious club, albeit one which has millions of members nationwide. At first I thought it was as ludicrous as waving to everyone that drives past in a car the same colour as you, and laughed and ignored people who I saw doing it, but somehow I seem to have been taken in by it! As bikers we all share something more than just a choice of transportation; it’s a choice of lifestyle and a reflection of our personalities. Excitement determines what we do day-to-day, not practicality. We are thrill-seekers. We all think we have style; maybe even that we are the elite, better than everyone that needs four wheels to get around! And it’s not just a nod, it’s more akin to doffing one’s hat as a sign of mutual respect, or maybe a secret hand-shake! We share a secret – and that secret is how f***ing cool and liberating it is to be screaming down the road, leaning in to the corners, sailing past endless lines of traffic with the wind in our… helmets.
I’ve noticed a trend that certain riders do it more than others. Anyone on a cruiser, particularly a Harley, will always do it. Maybe because they’re the most pompous of all bike riders (I can’t wait to own one myself!) and yet no one on a moped will ever do it. Maybe they’re ashamed. I like to think so. Now when I find myself nodding at riders coming the other way I get a genuine sense of pride that I’m a biker as well. And I hate myself for it! What’s worse is that I get annoyed if they don’t do it back! There seems to actually be some people out there with enough of their own cool that they don’t need other people to acknowledge them to make them feel special. Bastards. Who do they think they are? I doffed my hat at you, sir, and you do not do likewise?! You have offended me and insulted my honour! Prepare to duel!
Or maybe I’m just over-thinking this.
Tags: Australia, motorbike, public transport, transport, UK