If there is

anything more graceful than a well-balanced, well-ridden

motorcycle slaloming its way over winding mountain roads,

it's 50 motorcycles leaning first left and then right

with precision approaching that of a synchronized swim

team.

The year

2000 thus far has proved to be a busy one for me. I

haven't had a finger to scratch with on either hand.

But I

managed to grab a long weekend and head for the

mountains, and among the other pleasures such a getaway

affords, north Georgia was blanketed with bikers of all

descriptions.

It's been

years since I owned a bike. My old Honda 500 gave up the

ghost back in the `80s. After that, there were other fish

to fry and I just haven't managed to get back in the

saddle.

Watching

the passing ballet as I drove the mountain roads this

weekend reminded me how much I enjoyed biking.

Not that

it's for everyone. If you worry that your loved ones who

ride motorcycles are in greater danger than they would be

in cars, you are absolutely right.

Mike

Traynor, who was my motorcycle mentor back in the days

when I used to ride (last I heard from him he was

traveling the country organizing clones of the Ride for

Kids charity ride), gave me a piece of advice that I'm

sure saved my life more than once. "Never forget

that when you are on your bike you are invisible to all

the four-wheelers. I don't care if you're wearing red

coveralls, are running flood lights and have a naked

blonde on the handlebars, they don't see you."

I soon

learned he was right. My first bike was a tiny little

100CC thing, and I had the audacity to take it out on the

expressway. I looked into that little circular rearview

mirror and all I saw was an M. So I sat up and looked

over my shoulder to read the rest of the word - Mac.

I was about to join the rest of the bugs on this

trucker's grill.

Over time,

though, I learned that truckers usually didn't pose a

problem, and often helped me out of jams. And bikers

really love drafting behind the big rigs in cold weather.

It's mostly

four-wheelers who see a blank spot in the traffic instead

of the motorcyclist who actually is there. People just

don't pay attention. I shudder to think what it's like

now, with the proliferation of the cellular phone.

Of course,

bikers can be their own worst enemies. Several younger

ones, apparently unsatisfied with their lives here on

earth, took advantage of their bikes' small size and

extra acceleration to go zipping around me on curves this

weekend. A couple even passed with cars coming the other

direction, counting on me and the other driver to give

extra room so they could squeeze through.

I've seen

and heard of more than a few riders who were turned into

hood ornaments doing stunts like that.

But I know

most of you bikers out there aren't like that. You use

your heads and follow safe rules of the road, you're

courteous to other riders and four-wheelers alike, you go

on all kinds of volunteer rides to raise money for

charity, and you're pretty much a friendly bunch.

That's one

of the things I miss. If you pay attention, you'll notice

when you see two bikers pass each other they wave. No

matter if the one rides a Harley and looks like a Hell's

Angel and the other is on a rice burner (any motorcycle

made in Japan) and wearing a three-piece suit, the wind

in their faces and the bugs in their teeth are something

they have in common.

You may see

the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet, but you see it from inside

an enclosure. On a bike, you smell it, too. There's

nothing to compare with riding past a field of

honeysuckles on a warm summer evening.

You feel

every change in atmosphere, and if you don't go in for

loud engines, you hear a lot as well. You get the whole

experience.

I'm sure

some of you bicycle enthusiasts out there are thinking

that the experience is even more rewarding without the

noise of the engine, and I'm sure you're right (though

for many the "motor" in motorcycle is at least

half of the fun). There are different types of attraction

to both activities, and to each his own - or do both

if you like.

On a

beautiful day, on the road is a great place to be. Let's

all try to get along and share it, shall we?