Bikers at the Harley Days 2014 in Hamburg Germany. PHOTO/TONY MUSHOBOROZI
Ten years ago, in late June 2014, two of my biker friends and I travelled to Hamburg, Germany, to attend a bikers’ convention called Harley Days.
The three-day parade attracts tens of thousands of motorcycle enthusiasts and riders from around the world. It is sponsored by Harley Davidson Motorcycles, the iconic motorcycle brand from the US. With at least 50,000 motorcycles and 600,000 visitors annually, it is Europe's largest inner-city motorbike event.
What a sight
Words cannot sufficiently describe the experience. The sound of 10,000 monster motorcycles all running at the same time is indescribable, the sun-drenched faces of thousands of skimpily dressed women riding at pillions of their men’s motorcycles is an enchanting sight to see, the intricate tattoos on men in leather vests whose arms are larger than trees, 90-year-old bikers riding 500-kilo monsters, motorcycles that have been modified so much that they look nothing like anything you have ever seen and so much more.
At that Harley Days event, people walked around all day enjoying the bike shows, street food, the different music concerts and pints of beer.
On the final day of the event, as is tradition, all the 50,000 thousand motorcycles got into formation and rode through Hamburg, crossing famous sights and riding over the biggest bridges.
Traffic was blocked on the routes and countless people came out to watch the spectacle. Take a moment and try to imagine 50,000 motorcycles flowing down the road like a river of steel, roaring like a million thunders. It is beyond spectacular.
That was probably the best time of our lives hands down. Then two days later, we got to ride 500 kilometres from Hamburg to Frankfurt, on a German autobahn, through the beautiful forested German countryside and the parade paled in comparison. We came back home speechless with joy.
Five years earlier, in 2009, I had bought my first motorcycle. It had been a Honda Rebel 250cc made in 1998.
I had barely ever ridden before the day I paid for it but I was so pumped with adrenaline that I just rode it from Ndeeba to Ntinda where I lived at the time. I had finally achieved a childhood dream of owning a motorcycle. What made me fall in love such an inanimate object? I cannot give you a definitive answer except that I had a recurrent dream when I was about 10 to 13 years of age, where I rode motorcycles in my sleep.
Are bikers crazy?
In my experience, many people tend to think that motorcyclists are crazy while others think that it is a phase of growing up. That once you have reached a certain level of maturity, you are expected to give up the motorcycle and buy a car.
That at some point, one has got to stop exposing oneself to so much risk of death that comes with riding. But the truth is more complicated than that. Our relationship with these machines is not skin deep. It comes from a place in our souls that was designed by forces outside our own choices.
Motorcycles chose us. Motorcycling is as much a passion as writing or playing a musical instrument. It takes courage to pursue it, we work hard to reach high levels of riding just like it is the case with other human endeavours, and not anyone can ride well, just like not everyone can play a guitar at expert level.
There is a running joke in the riders’ world that while most people love motorcycles, only the brave actually become bikers.
I do not believe this to be true. Those of us that end up bikers are madly drunk on a passion we did not seek. We were born that way. That is why we get back on the motorcycle as soon as we heal from a huge fall. To us, the fact that riding is extremely dangerous is not a deterrent. It is part of the fun. The fact that I dodge death every day makes biking all the more thrilling.
What keeps bikers cautious
The awareness that riding is dangerous is the thing that keeps us alive. We are like antelopes in the wild. We ride with the awareness that pythons are hiding in plain sight ready to swallow us, we see buses as hungry lions that will maul us at any moment if we do not keep our eyes open.
We know we live on the edge but it is that knowledge that keeps us safe. A lack of this awareness means a lack of precaution. And a lack of precaution means the end.
So, we invest in the right protective gear, the right genuine parts, we are constantly learning to ride better in all conditions, we invest in bigger, better and pricier motorcycles that have better handling, all for our safety. We are like soldiers. We do not agonise over living on the edge, we adapt to the dangerous world we find ourselves in and adopt safe practices to enjoy the ruggedness of riding. That is the life of a biker.
