No Helmet? You Have Noodles in the Noggin! Tuesday, April 08, 2008 (02:58:18) Posted by editor Rick Methot of the Lebanon Daily News questions riders who don't wear lids. I was blowing through Sturgis, S.D., heading back east on I-90 after playing trout bum in Montana, Colorado and Wyoming when I saw the billboard. It interrupted my chain of thought, which is always hinged on weak links anyway, that recalled an old folk song with the line, “It’s been snowing all night, the Black Hills are white.” This is owing to the fact I had just zipped across the northern tip of the Black Hills National Forest. On the road again, solo. One of my favorite things back in the day. Now I take Gunny the Wonder Dog along for company. Maybe I didn’t “blow through” Sturgis, since the speed limit was 35 mph, slow enough to notice the sign that proclaimed something to the effect that half the motorcycle riders on planet Earth, and maybe a few others, gather here every year. I had to assume this is to network, attend the latest chrome-tech conferences, and do wine and cheese during the PowerPoint presentation on rules regarding club colors, a “touchy” subject. However, I later learned this place is to bikers what Pebble Beach is to golfers or Daytona is to people who like to watch fast cars make left turns for 500 miles. The place was deserted when I passed by, and I suspect Sturgis is pretty much a one-trick pony in the tourism department. But a year later we were hunkered down in Jackson Hole, Wyo., en route to Montana in the middle of August. The town was full of bikers, a pit stop on the way east to Sturgis. One of the favorite watering holes is the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar — you gotta see it to believe it — and the bikes were lined up in front in all of their shining glory. Look, don’t touch. They are beautiful machines, no doubt. But what the allure is of being a short fall from being roadkill, not to mention bugs slapping your face shield, if you have one, is beyond me. Plus, I don’t like noise. Count me out for Easy Rider hogs and leaf blowers. I have a brother, close friend and hunting-club pal who ride. I pray for their warped souls. I figure midlife crisis is a factor in at least two of the three. Fine, but could I have the little red sports car convertible instead? All this mention of bikes was sparked by a recent editorial in a newspaper (where some of us still get our news before the TV stations run it two days later). I picked up a copy of the Home News Tribune. It’s a Jersey paper where I was an editor and columnist for nearly 20 years. It was on a newsstand where I don’t normally travel. The editorial commentary was on a section front page, which I don’t like. Editorials should be on an inside, left page on the first news section, but that’s just me. Anyway, I give them kudos for the hed — “Motorcyclists who shun helmets need their heads examined.” Amen. A few years ago I pulled out of my driveway on a trip I’ve made thousands of times ... down the winding two-lane that goes past a horse farm, cornfield and beef cattle grazing. The road crosses a steel bridge circa the 1800s. This is New Jersey, mind you. The police lights were flashing; road closed. I showed my press credentials, which normally get you a $4 cup of latte, and they let me pass. I saw the guy, spread eagled underneath the car. “How bad?” I asked the cops. “Dead,” they said. Motorcycle took the turn too wide and hit car head-on. Dead is usually the result for the biker. A helmet may not have saved this guy, but any accident not involving smashing into a bigger and heavier piece of metal might just do the trick. I won’t bore you with statistics, but all show that states that don’t require wearing helmets have increased death rates for bikers. Warmer weather is coming, and you want to ride. Picture a baseball bat hitting a raw egg. That’s your brain kids. The rest of you they might sop up with a blotter, then stick in a cigar box. Helmets save lives. Just do it, option or not. Party in New Hope? OK, helmets are optional for those of a certain age. Cross the bridge to Lambertville? You will wear something to protect your gray matter. Back in Sturgis, where all those bad boys and biker chicks party? Helmet City kids. A good reason to see you back next year. Have fun, ride ... but be careful out there. Content received from: American Biker News, http://americanbikernews.com