Monday, May 25, 2015 14:57
By Brooks Agnew
I was thinking of riding my Honda Shadow 1100 to Twin Peaks today to
have some wings and enjoy the sports on TV on this gorgeous Memorial
Day Weekend. The sun was shining, and the temperature was a perfect 82
degrees. I rode by the mall, with only moderate traffic and saw a
couple of other bikers out doing the same thing I was doing; riding with
no particular place to go.
I was riding alone and was not with any other bikers, but we always
exchange the extended two-fingered peace sign as we pass one another on
the roads winding through the countryside and through the cities of
America.
As I made the turn onto the frontage road along the busiest shopping
center in town, I noticed two police vehicles in the parking lot. One
was a cruiser with black wheels and the new, aggressive paint scheme.
The other was a black SUV with a light bar on top. I rolled through the
parking lot in a Pavlovian state of mind, thinking about the delicious
wings they serve and the beautiful and cheerful servers they have with
this biker-friendly franchise.
Then I remembered Waco. A wave of trepidation swept through me. I
looked around for snipers on the rooftops, and other police vehicles
that might be parked nearby at the ready. I saw two more, parked with
their driver side doors facing eachother. Then, I looked over to the
mall side of the parking lot, and I noticed an elevated police
observation tower than had been raised up with its blacked out windows.
I never actually stopped my bike. I decided that this looked too
dangerous, even though I have a perfectly clean record, including no
traffic citations for more than 10 years. I thought about those 9
bikers, shot in the head and neck with police assault rifles for doing
nothing but the same thing I was thinking about doing; having some wings
with other bikers who were out enjoying the beautiful weather. Were
there scuffles at biker places where I have stopped for great food
before? Sure. Nothing ever happened that was serious. Bikes and beer
can sometimes get out of hand, but friends don’t let it last long. They
all ride away and let it go like water under the bridge. After all,
there are far too many 4-wheel threats out there for bikers to be
fighting amongst themselves very long.
