Every time I got ready to change lanes, there was someone alongside of me in the next lane, intensively admiring the chromed-out and low-slung chopper Lately I've noticed more and more people asking me just why in the hell anybody in this day and age, with all the modern gizmos at their disposal, would ever want to own or build something as archaic as a chopper. They aren't all that efficient in terms of initial cost, upkeep, and so on. You wouldn't want to ride one down to your local theater and leave it outside while you go to see a movie. There is absolutely no place to store things and very few ever have a passenger pillion. Forget about range with many of the stylish little peanut tanks that only hold around 2 gallons of fuel. Maybe that last part is OK, since you might need to stop after using up a couple of gallons of gas to let your back relax for a while. Most of them don't even have any rear suspension at all, and couldn't make a three-point U-turn on a four-lane highway if your life depended on it. So what good are they, anyway?
I don't know just what it is that makes choppers so appealing myself. I just know they're fun and I like them. And judging by what I see going on around the local watering holes in our area here in SoCal, I can tell you that I'm not the only one. My main commuting barge is an Electra Glide. I ride just short of 100 miles or so round trip to work and back almost every day. Once in a great while, I might turn to scan the next lane and notice somebody taking a quick look at the bike and I'll maybe even be given the occasional thumbs-up now and then, but that's about it.
The last time I rode a Pure Steel Stilleto rigid home, things were very different. Every time I got ready to change lanes, there was someone alongside of me in the next lane, intensively admiring the chromed-out and low-slung chopper, but keeping me from merging over and making my exit. I had a guy on an ex-police KZ1000 follow me from the off ramp to the gas station to ask me a million questions about it. I was barely finished fueling up when I pulled into visit a friend of mine at his restaurant in Upland, California. A couple of guys walked in, helmets in hand, asking who was riding that "bitchin' rigid out front." I can tell you one thing for sure: None of those things will ever happen when I'm on my all-black and visually boring Electra Glide, but similar occurrences take place just about every time I ride home on any type of exotic chopper. In fact, running into people who enjoy the bikes you're riding as much as you do greatly adds to the level of excitement, making it more fun.
There's a small, private airport not far from my house, and I ride by it at least 10 times each week. A few years ago, I always saw a BMW, a Gold Wing, and a couple of Harley baggers parked near the hangars. About three years ago I saw a really cool, super-long yellow chopper parked near a space left vacant by the Cessna that was usually parked there. Over time, a few more choppers began to pop up. I dropped into the cafe one morning and started talking to one of the owners. When I asked him what kind of plane he flew, he pointed out to an old Piper Cub. He also told me the guy he shares a hangar with owns a few Stearman bi-planes he flies for television commercials, and he has a few bikes that are kept at the airport. He basically told me that it was because of the bikes being so impractical, inefficient, and having "just the right" level of vibration and killer exhaust note, it gives him something very close to the feeling he gets when he flew his old plane, only on the ground. Most people might not understand what he means, but it makes perfect sense to me. And, I'm sure it makes a great deal of sense to a lot of you. Have fun and ride safe.