Many Royal Enfield riders, a surprising number of them women, have used their Royal Enfield motorcycles to attempt and carry out challenging journeys across, and even around, the world.
Some are well known, successful and celebrated. No doubt there are many more riders whose trips are unknown, or who were defeated by circumstances before they met their goals.
Many ventured out on their own. Some few benefitted from factory support. All deserve respect.
Some, yes, more than others. As in all things, there are degrees of accomplishment. Degrees of hardship.
Today's blog post is a bit shorter than most. That's because, having written the item once, I deleted it.
Reading it over I decided I was being unfair. I had criticized a comment (on another blog) in which the comment writer raised a figurative "middle finger of disdain" to adventure motorcyclists who journey with special bikes and back-up crews.
He wrote in praise of adventurers who travel solo, or in pairs, on simple motorcycles, with no back-up but their own resources and courage.
Anything else is just hipster wannabe bullshit, the comment asserted. I'm sure he didn't mean to offend; he's exaggerating for effect. But he presumably wouldn't mind if you are offended.
Not that he would stoop to even include my motorcycling, as an ordinary daily commuter, in his criticism.
He's complaining about adventurers who boast of distances traveled in relative comfort on competent machines with help always at hand. Riders who have done far more that me, certainly.
Fine. But why bother to criticize any motorcyclists, especially those who, after all, do make the trips, however well financed?
"It's possible to appreciate the remarkable accomplishments of some motorcyclists without denigrating the activities of ordinary motorcyclists," I wrote, in my first attempt.
Yeah. But so what?
The comment writer is stoked. Enthusiastic about one thing, he attempts to praise it further by running down anything else.
He's speaking for the scars, the mashed fingers, the battered limbs, the heartbreaks, all worn as badges of honor by those who have attempted it all, and done it, on their own.
Courageous, personally costly experiences are worth boasting about. There ought to be some reward for the price paid.
I can't argue with that.
But disdain? No. Credit where credit is due.
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