Hell it is raining now.

 

no it isn't. there's a real nice sunset outside.

 

Can't you all just get along. I can't always wave, but I always grin.

 

[quote]ORIGINAL: Akitakoi

I always wave underhand, just was not sure about the point.

http://www.ekho.com/elton/PC800/The%20Wave.htm

[color=#000099]The Wave
By Tom Ruttan
CYCLE CANADA - APRIL 2002

The bike's passenger seat swept up just enough that I could see over my father's shoulders. That seat was my throne. My dad and I traveled many backroads, searching for the ones we had never found before. Traveling these roads just to see where they went. Never in a rush. Just be home for supper.

I remember wandering down a back road with my father, sitting on my throne watching the trees whiz by, feeling the rumble of our bike beneath us like a contented giant cat. A motorcycle came over a hill toward us and as it went by, my father threw up his gloved clutch hand and gave a little wave. The other biker waved back with the same friendly swing of his left wrist.

I tapped my father on his shoulder, which was our signal that I wanted to say something. He cocked his helmeted ear back slightly while keeping his eyes ahead.

I yelled, "Do we know him?"
'What?" he shouted.
"You waved to him. Who was it?"
"I don't know. Just another guy on a bike. So I waved."
"How come?"
"You just do. It's important."

Later, when we had stopped for chocolate ice cream, I asked why it was important to wave to other bikers. My father tried to explain how the wave demonstrated comradeship and a mutual understanding of what it was to enjoy riding a motorcycle. He looked for the words to describe how almost all bikers struggled with the same things like cold, rain, heat, car drivers who did not see them, but how riding remained an almost pure pleasure.

I was young then and I am not sure that I really understood what he was trying to get across, but it was a beginning. Afterward, I always waved along with my father when we passed other bikers.

I remember one cold October morning when the clouds were heavy and dark, giving us another clue that winter was riding in from just over the horizon. My father and I were warm inside our car as we headed to a friend's home. Rounding a comer, we saw a motorcycle parked on the shoulder of the road. Past the bike, we saw the rider walking through the ditch, scouring the long grasses crowned with a touch of frost. We pulled over and backed up to where the bike stood.

I asked Dad, "Who's that?"
"Don't know," he replied. "But he seems to have lost something. Maybe we can give him a hand."

We left the car and wandered through the tall grass of the ditch to the biker. He said that he had been pulling on his gloves as he rode and he had lost one. The three of us spent some time combing the ditch, but all we found were two empty cans and a plastic water bottle.

My father turned and headed back to our car and I followed him. He opened the trunk and threw the cans and the water bottle into a small cardboard box that we kept for garbage. He rummaged through various tools, oil containers and windshield washer fluid until he found an old crumpled pair of brown leather gloves. Dad straightened them out and handed them to me to hold. He continued looking until he located an old catalogue. I understood why my dad had grabbed the gloves. I had no idea what he was going to do with the catalogue. We headed back to the biker who was still walking the ditch.

My dad said, "Here's some gloves for you. And I brought you a catalogue as well."
"Thanks," he replied. I really appreciate it." He reached into his hip pocket and withdrew a worn black wallet.
"Let me give you some money for the gloves," he said as he slid some bills out.
"No thanks," my dad

 

That is an awesome story. Do you mind if I borrow it to post on a couple of other foums that I frequent?

 

Hey, Draggin,
I was a member of that club! I never advanced to an officer or life member, but as a kid and young adult in Texas,it was just as you describe it. That subtle little flip of the finger was all that was needed. Everyone knew, everyone understood. You know what? It's still that way today! Ilove it. Thanks for reminding me of the old days for an old Texan!

 

You grow a big pair of **** and ill wave to you big fellow.

 

I always wave at all bikers, scooters, and even guys putting a new roof on their house! hahaha ...unless I can't do so safely. Most will wave back and if they don't I sometimes wonder if they didn't wave because I am a woman...or I am riding a Sportster...or because they were busy shifting or maybe just because they didn't see me. I don't get all bent out of shape over it...but do wonder sometimes. But when they do it makes me smile!!

 

Post away, just remember to acknowledge the writer http://www.ekho.com/elton/PC800/The%20Wave.htm

 

Very nice story. It sums up how I feel about the waving/not waving topic.