You know, like, you’re old and feeble, but you’re still going to the rally. (Good for 
you!) Or, you’re recovering from a surgery, like, say, quintuple by-pass or an amputation of a limb. Or it’s a beautifully restored knucklehead, that, with all due respect, couldn’t possibly make the trip. I can even understand if you’re on a super-tight timeline coming from thousands of miles away and you trailer so you can rotate drivers and drive straight through so you can make it for at least a couple days. I’ll even give that a pass. However, if your bike is on a trailer, and none of these circumstances apply, perhaps you should consider the idea that you are just simply a raging pussy.
While you’re ruminating over that statement, let’s set fourth a few ground rules for you jack wagons with your bikes on trailers. First, don’t pretend like you actually rode somewhere. You didn’t. The most audacious manifestation of this mental disorder is people who pull their bikes off trailers to take pictures. You, sir, are a fraud. And you should be bitch-slapped. Probably by your mom. ‘Cuz Lord knows if you turned out like that, your dad isn’t gonna be anywhere near you to deliver that corrective action.
Second, you have elected a transport method of convenience. You shall henceforth be extended no further convenience or courtesy. You are not allowed to merge into my lane, cut me off, or otherwise utilize the road in any way that inconveniences me when I’m on my bike going to the same damn place you are. Be patient and wait, cager. Furthermore, I would propose that, as a cager, you should lose all priority when I show up where you’re at. That’s right. I should get priority at gas pumps, restaurants, and anyplace else with a line. Your hotel reservations? “I’m sorry sir, people who actually rode their motorcycles showed up, and they looked tired so we gave them your room.” In fact, if said hotel is sold out, you should have to leave when I show up. If your old lady is good looking, she may stay. Biker’s discretion, of course.
If you’re pulling a trailer with a bike on it, or you have a bike in the back of your truck, I have to assume that, at some point, you’ve actually ridden the thing. Perhaps you donned your pirate outfit, revved up your motor at every stoplight, and made the arduous trek to Starbucks or the local purveyor of ice cream. This brings me to my third and final point. Even if that is the extent of your riding experience, you should know, in the core of your being, deep in your soul, one critical thing: if you’re in your car, GET THE F**K OUT OF MY WAY WHEN I’M ON MY BIKE! Seriously, man….WTF?
On bikes, we make hay when the sun shines, because God knows there are things that slow us down. Rain, traffic, cops, traffic, construction, traffic, darkness, traffic. But on an open road, on a clear beautiful day, we haul ass to make time. You should know this based on your vast riding experience. So, don’t pull your piece of shit garbage wagon into the left lane so you can go 78 in a 75 to putt past that Dodge Neon. Move your ass. Wait for me to go by. Enjoy your time staring through that windshield, talking on the phone, texting your underage girlfriend, or whatever the hell you’re doing. Just get that freight train out of my damn way.
Trailer if you must, but nothing beats the ride…cagers and all. Ride on!