The reason we ride

As I rode from Houston to Louisiana, I wasn’t expecting to have very much fun. I’m here for a funeral after all. The service was this morning. Followed by our family gathering the rest of the day. I decided to head out around 11:00PM. Didn’t want to be too tired if I decided to leave back to Houston tomorrow.Then I noticed the bike on the side of the road. Rider hunched over with pack bags and fairings splayed all over the floor like a surgical operation. I dismounted and asked my fellow rider what was troubling him. Simple. A battery. Not to worry though. He already had a friend coming from a town ~30 minutes away with a replacement. I offered to stay with him and keep him company while he waited. He happily accepted and then asked if I would be willing to grab a drink for him.I rushed off to the nearest gas station to grab something. Took a little longer than expected to find a station that was open this late in small town Louisiana. By the time I returned, our battery toting buddy had arrived.We took our time pulling the old battery out, diagnosing what could have caused the failure, and installing the new one. All the while cracking jokes. They spoke freely about other personal things never once treating me like I was intruding. I didn’t even get a “Thanks for your help. We got it from here” command. Which is what any Ducati sporting city boy would expect to get from two patched Harley riders.Instead, as we buttoned the bike back up and put all our tools away, I was offered an invitation to the clubhouse. Wow! I couldn’t believe it. The only knowledge I had of any MC was the horrible shootout in Waco, TX. I wasn’t sure if this would be a good idea, but I excitedly accepted the invitation and we rode out.We stopped at Waffle House and a gas station before heading to the clubhouse. At a certain point I realized that I had actually stopped to help the National President of this MC. His title patched onto the front of his vest. Pretty awesome, but I was oblivious to how big a deal this truly was.When we got to the clubhouse around 1:00am, there was spots reserved for us at the front doorstep. Amongst a sea of choppers, my bike stuck out like a sore thumb. I began second guessing my choice. We all know how serious the rivalry can get between old and new age riding. I prepared for the worst.The President then began to walk me around and introduced me to the local chapter. At first I felt a little uncomfortable, but then I became more confident with the scene and started hanging out with the other club members. Those who had heard were over the moon with thanks that I had helped the National President. The local President offered me a bunk to stay in, food, beers, and anything else I might need. It was then that I felt the true biker brotherhood.We are all united by our love of riding. Our drive for that which is unexplainable with words. Only with actions and feelings is it truly understood. A bond unlike any other. Through all walks of life and across many generations. The only word that comes to mind is Love.Love drives us to stop for other bikers pulled off on the side of the road. Love sends us searching for helmets in a crowded place when another bike is parked outside. Love pairs is up with strangers on our daily rides. Love helps us to sets aside our differences and prejudice. Love leads us to accept and welcome.I Love y’all. I hope this speaks to you. Ride safeEdit: no homo via /r/motorcycles https://www.reddit.com/r/motorcycles/comments/cy7wta/the_reason_we_ride/?utm_source=ifttt