When most people think of "bikers", images of the scruffy/grizzly, tattooed, leather-clad warriors of the road who cuss worse than a sailor and have a maniacal look in their eyes come to mind. I suppose some are, but truthfully - most aren't. I'm not a biker, but in the past few years, I have come to know many and have been surprised by how much they dispell the stereotype. Even if they have that rough'n'tumble look about them, bikers are intelligent, often hold a white-collar job, live well, and would seem more at-home on the golf course than on a steel horse.
Why do I mention this? In two words: Road Poet (and its sibling Road Poet-NY). I recently learned that August is National Biker Poetry Month (NBPM). Bikers and poetry? That combination seems as likely as Britney Spears opening for Metallica. But it's true - and why not? OK - yes, I'm a skirt and have never been on a bike. From what I hear, though, there is such a sense of freedom, a sense that all is right with the world, verging almost on the philosophical and spiritual, that it must be inspiring.
I'm going to explore this Road Poet a little more, but in case you're interested in NBPM, there is a schedule for those of you in the Northeast on Road-Poet NY. Check it out.