First let me say,i don't care what you own,as long as you ride.one of the best bikes i have ever owned was a kawasaki 1500 classic.My wife and i put a lot of miles on it.My current bike is a 2007 ultra classic....love this bike. except for the heat.lol.I've been around bikes since i was about 12.I'm 57 now,My Ultra will be my last bike,although i have been thinking about buying an older sportster to play with.The reason the Ultra will the my last bike is because it cost so dang much......i work for a living lol.Everyone knows what HD stands for.But anyway back to my point, brotherhood.does it exist,or is this just a huge selling point,I think,,(my opinion)it is one heck of a selling point.My riding friend an companion is my wife,we love to ride.We have friends who ride,an we ride together,not often but once or twice during the season.But anyway,Yuppies,or wannabe's.or as some on here say poser's. I just call them yuppies,they in my opinion is what has killed the brotherhood of bikers.YOU don't have a 500$ leather coat on..you don't ride a 35,000$ bike .YOU'RE not in my income bracket.lol Every one throws out a hand in the WAVE,but if you break down on the side of the road,and you're wearing your favorite riding boots you bought at Wal Mart,ragged out jeans and a plain white t shirt how many would stop to help?A very few would,the rest would give you the WAVE as they passed by.I make a pretty good living,i guess middle class range.we get by ok.I have nothing aganist people who can go to a dealer an pay for a custom bike off the showroom floor,more power to you,but if you have not busted your knuckles working on it or it has not made you bleed while putting wrenches to it,I dont think it's yours( my opinion)you just paid for it.But i will ride with you an i'll Wave at you because we have to keep up the selling point Brotherhood just my opinion rebel

You are actually discussing two separate and distinct topics--however, you are sincere.

Yes, you are actively riding and enjoying the sport. As for metric brands, I've owned two Gold Wings and one CBX. I have no greater respect for long distance guys than I have for the Wing Dingers. They ride, and we all know it.

However, the concept of 'brotherhood' is a different matter. You are not a brother because you share the road with other bikers. In bike circles, a 'brother' or 'bro' or (in my generation "blood") is a fellow club member. And even a guy I despise.

Yes, we debate the issue here, and frankly, the conversation will never go away. Primarily for one reason. A twenty-something, no matter how hard he squeals, will never get into a time machine and ride in the 1960s. That doesn't mean he cannot be loyal to his friends, his wife and children, or his country. It simply means that he is not +60 years old.

For example, I am a brother, but I will never be a Zoot Suiter.

My disgust is not for you. My ridicule is for a newb or poser who loots his grandfather's closet for period clothes of the 1960s or hacks the sleeves off of a perfectly good jean jacket and figures he's my equal. He is not, and frankly never will be.

You are a proud rider. You are not my brother. I hope this clears up the issue.

I was always taught that we are all brothers in the wind. MoCo just takes that idea and sells it to the world for profit. I love my bike and the way of life it allows me to live. I always stop to help, I call it paying forward... Not every rider has a tool kit or cell phone, and just because one waves and doesn't stop doesn't make him/her a yuppie...
I've been stuck on the side of the road and felt helpless for a second or two, then I reach into my bag of tricks and usually get a fix going. I don't have an ol' lady driving my truck behind me with a trailer or a hot line to the mechanic... my knuckles have many scars from all the years of wrenching. I know that when I throw a leg over I'm on my own, no "Bros" have my back I'm an independent you know the kind of rider that rides for the joy of riding.... fights to protect myself and loved ones... and stops to help another motorcyclist (whatever brand).
Yeah living in Southern California there plenty of Rich Urban Bikers... (RUBs) we call them, but I hold no grudge, I'm just waiting for them to get tired of their bikes so I can get a great deal on a used one...LOL
Keep the shiny side up - the rubber side down, and the wind in your face.
You're a lucky guy to have a companion that likes to ride with you.
So to answer you question "Does Brotherhood Exist?"
I have to say yes, but not everyone understands that.

These are all valid ideas, however they touch upon several differing ideas.

The first issue is your excellent realization about MoCo. They make bezillions selling the idea that a garbage wagon makes you Peter Fonda. And that is powerful medicine to a kid or a RUB who has more money than brains. Heck, I had rags for an entire year before the idea of "existence beyond myself" started to sink in. That's not new. You should read my Japanese history books. "Samurai" actually means 'one who serves,' not blood spewing mercenary.

As for friends, you're lucky if at the end of your life you can count them on one hand. I had three, I don't see them any more. One beats his wife. One had an affair, fathered a child, and smokes dope--and was a church deacon. One is probably dead. I miss the good times everyday.

So, does brotherhood exist? Of course it does, but not as defined here. I also stop for disabled bikes, and cars. I do charity work. I sharpen pro bono. A good man does these things as a part of life. That is not brotherhood even in the general sense. It's being compassionate.

And clearly that is not "motorcycle brotherhood." That concept is defined only by the men who live it. What the rabble thinks does not matter. And MoCo and a sleeveless vest are never the first steps.

I think there is a certain camaraderie that is associated with riding.I don't care what you ride, it's all good as long as your on a motorcycle.I have been blessed in that my best friend has been a Harley mechanic for 25+ years, he has helped me tremendously with teaching me to maintain my own bikes and having all of the proper tools and knowledge, rather than having to take them to a service shop and pay them to do it.Truthfully,I doubted that I could ever afford to own a Harley but I am now on my third one. I seriously doubt I could afford a major problem but so far so good.I like meeting new people,eating good food, talking about motorcycles.I always stop if I think another rider needs help, most often they don't but I get to meet them upon stopping anyways.My biggest concern as of late is finding a side car for my bike.Harley-Davidson quit making them,I know it's only a matter of time before I'll need to go that route.I would rather own a hack than a trike.Plan B is that I'll keep picking up and downsizing bikes until I am no longer able to ride.I plan on keeping this Electra Glide for the rest of my life regardless.

While the 1960s are glamorized, I always believe "you should have been there."

One brother rode a 750cc three-banger Suzuki. Our prez rode a customized BSA Rocket Three for a season. The toughest guy was a recently discharged Marine who rode a 500cc Triumph Scrambler. I rode several Super Glides and Sportsters. Another member put a 6-cylinder car engine into a custom frame. Customs, metrics, rat bikes--we rode them all.

We did get 'political' in the later years as we spearheaded the Wisconsin Helmet Repeal. Bigger bikes for the highway and the necessary bigger fuel tanks. Lots of Super Glides and a few dressers. Yeah, we liked Harleys, but much of it was the necessity of the moment. Chart a route from Madison, Wisconsin to Winona, Minnesota. We went there and back inside of a weekend. Remember, bikes weren't as reliable then as now.

It's the mental, not the metal. Brotherhood is an element, but it's also an era, like The Roaring Twenties or the Wild West or The Beat Generation. It's over. You have sincere friends, enjoy it and build on it. If you like groups, by all means, join a riding or touring association.

For some reason we think 'brotherhood' can be magically conjured, but if you started doing The Twist or only used 1960's hippie clothes and slang, people would think you were nuts. Same thing here. I just do not understand why "enjoying a motorcycle" necessitates faking attributes of my youth.

I think that this could not have been better said! I do the same thing and have meet some great people through motorcycling that are still some of my very beat friends today. I have seen cars stop to help a motorcyclist on the side of the road, maybe they were motorcyclist themselves, who knows but I think in general people are good and want to help.

This is the problem that you face. "while the 1960s are glamorized". Should I dare use the word "biker" in this post? Let's get the definitions of the word straight please read below, Are You a "Biker"? There are people that have grown up watching "Easy Rider" that weren't even born in the 60's. These people have grown to love that era for what they think it stands for. They see pics of people with cut off jean jackets and emulate them. Some of those people can't ride a motorcycle to save their life but some can, some call everyone "bro" and some of us call them "posers" I personally don't use the word "poser".

Fortunately Tourist, you lived the 60's and experienced it. Some people couldn't give two sh... about the 60's and either don't have a memory of it or don't want to remember any of it. People now a days look back at any point in time and they only see the romantic side of it, not the everyday life.

You can't fault people for role playing as this is what people do. Whether it's putting on a jean jacket or wearing your wife's cloths. This is life. I was a kid in the 60's and all I wanted was a WW2 bomber jack that I did get and wore proudly in respect of that long gone era.

The word "brother" has a different meaning for everyone. Some people will only call their biological sibling brother, other will call their best friend "bro" and some call everyone they meet "hey bro" the same as "hey man"

I just did and search for the word biker and came up with a very interesting read.

Are You a "Biker"?
topic posted Wed, August 13, 2008 - 9:06 AM by Rip

After riding for some 35 years and owning more bikes than I can count, I am
still a little confused when someone asks me the question, "Are you a
biker?"

Do I ride? Yes. Do I own a motorcycle? Yes. Do I saddle up often? Yes,
usually daily. Is riding a motorcycle the most important thing I do? Yes,
right behind being with my family and making a living.

There are many definitions for real biker. Many riders think being a biker
means that you ride a scooter constantly and probably don't even own a car.
Some think that only Harley riders are real bikers, while others believe
that being a club "1 %'er" is the key to the biker title.

I've also heard guys say things like, "Real bikers ride in the rain." Well,
I guess I'm not a real biker because I drive my cage when it's raining. But
I consider that an intelligence issue.

I also hear conversations that if you have a good job and make great money,
somehow you have been disqualified from being a real biker because you are
now a yuppie or a R.U.B. (rich urban biker). Well, I plead guilty again
because I have a pretty good job, and I do okay. I guess I've lost points
again on the real biker scale.

Do tattoos, outrageous haircuts or earrings get you closer to the Holy Grail
of real bikerhood? How about the folks who ride sport bikes, Gold Wings or
trikes? Are they real bikers? Can a Gold Winger ever become a real biker?
According to many so-called experts, once you get a Gold Wing, you get
busted back down to Private. Zero points on the real biker scale. What
happens to a real biker if he suddenly loses his mind and -- God forbid --
buys a British bike?

I'm sure many of you are a little like me and wonder what makes a biker and
whether or not we qualify. Do I think like a biker? Do I look like a biker?
Do I have to dress for work like I dress when I'm riding my scoot to be a
real biker? Do I make too much money to be a real biker? Do I have to put
bike parts into the dishwasher to be a real biker? Can I take my scoot to
the dealership for an oil change and still keep my Real Biker Card?

Recently, as I drove home from work, I came across a young guy pushing his
Honda cruiser down a country road. After stopping to investigate, I went
home and got my trailer and some tie-downs and came back to help this guy
get his scooter home in one piece. It was apparent early on that he wasn't a
"true biker," that is, an experienced biker. I didn't know the exact
definition of true biker, but I knew he somehow didn't qualify. He would
need to serve some time before applying for his Real Biker Membership Card.

After we got to his house and unloaded his bike, he offered payment for my
services, and I refused. He thanked me and then proceeded to tell me how he
had bought the Honda to go to Sturgis with friends and how wonderful the
experience had been. He went into his house and got some photos of his trip
to show me. He explained how exciting the whole biker experience had been,
how friendly the biker community was, and how surprised he was to feel so
welcome. He said he had recently gone through a divorce and the Sturgis
experience had rejuvenated him, served as a sort of therapy.

As he explained what had apparently been a life-changing experience, it
occurred to me that he was putting into words the whole biker experience
from the fresh point of view of someone who had just arrived. He was so
excited, it almost made me laugh out loud.

I realized he was describing what being around bikers was all about. It was
like he was re-introducing me to an old friend, a friend I had almost
forgotten about and was very happy to re-discover. I'd been around bikers
for so long I'd forgotten what gives our lifestyle such appeal. I had taken
for granted the essence of the experience that had super-charged my
Honda-riding friend.

Then he asked me if I was a biker.

Taken off guard but also responding very quickly, I said, "Yes, I am a
biker."

For the first time in my life I didn't have a problem understanding the
definition of biker. I didn't question my qualifications, brand, style or
dress. I'm not even sure I had a Harley T-Shirt on (yes, I own a Harley as
well as a Sabre).

It doesn't matter. At that moment, I understood that being a biker was that
feeling of comfort you have when enjoying a sport that celebrates the
outdoors and a free spirit. It's the feeling you get when you ride alone or
the thrill you feel when you hear 100 bikes rumble down the road. It's also
the feeling you have when you sit around the fire at night planning the
adventure for the next day. It's like those T-shirts that say, "If I have to
explain, you wouldn't understand."

The experience I had helping a newcomer to the biker world is also a part of
the real biker definition. It hit me like some sort of religious epiphany
that being a biker was not really what you looked like or what you ride or
how often you ride. It was the inner peace that you achieve when you are on
that scooter and you're a million miles from work, worry and pressure.

Real bikers are all members of a kinship with no concern for status or
wealth. Instead, they have a "Live and Let Live" philosophy, while still
watching each others' backs.

After all these years, I've finally discovered the answer to the real biker
question. If you get a shiver up your spine when a good sounding scoot goes
by, have ever stopped to help another rider in distress, or can't sleep
because you're thinking about the morning adventure, don't worry, you're a
real biker. It doesn't matter if it's a sport bike, a cruiser, or a dirt
bike. If it's got two wheels and you get that special feeling when you
saddle up, you get the membership card for life, no questions asked.

Somehow, this two-wheeled piece of steel has become a catalyst for bringing
out realness in people. So the next time you see a Gold Wing or a sport bike
go by, or you run across a broken down Honda, give the rider the respect he
or she deserves, because they probably are a real biker. My Honda friend
was. He was a real biker the minute he pulled into Sturgis and got that
special feeling.

And that's their excuse. It's real easy to be an "outlaw biker" when your home is air conditioned, you have a health and dental plan, easy 60 month financing for your cookie-cutter Hog, and the last fist fight you were in was back at grade school. The reason they claim the 1960s doesn't matter is that, frankly, they can't cut it and they know it.

I use the word "fraud." You might not be familiar with some aspects of martial arts, but some in the MA community got so sick of this same thing that a bunch of them started bullshido.com and they have a section where they expose frauds. And guess who gripes about it? Why, it's the very guys who can't cut it there, either.

Why am I so strict on this? One reason, I'm a 'tourist' now. I live in suburbia, I own my own business. I have heat in the winter and A/C in the summer. The cops call me 'sir' (most of the time) and I have a regular real-deal criminal attorney that handles my "conflicts" now.

So when one of my 'neighbors' or a guy in his mom's basement living rent free or a dentist with a HOG patch tells me about "living the lifestyle" I know he's full of crap. A guy like that knows as much about the lifestyle as Peter Fonda, another child of privilege. In fact, Pee Wee Herman knows more about the lifestyle, after all, Pee Wee has been to Sturgis.

You want to be a biker? No problem. You know where the bikers hang out, go there. Live as a prospect for a year. Get rousted, get beat up, sell all of your suburban toys for engine parts and cheap diner food. Live with them cheek to jowl in a cracker-box apartment so their problems become your problems and their joys become your joys.

And after a year or two--if you're still alive or not in jail--your real 'brothers' will hand you an embroidered piece of cloth, and you'll damn near cry in rapt joy. You'll have people who will die for you.

Then come back and tell me about the lifestyle and brotherhood. Until that time you're just a 'motorcyclist.'

Good Tread.