Image by mojoey via Flickr
I ran into a couple of bikers at the Miners Inn Restaurant in Merced. It’s an OK stop for breakfast on the way up or down the mountain. My family and I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. At the table next to ours three bikers did the same. They were two older men and an older woman. My guess is they were 60ish. They seem friendly. I heard them pray before breakfast, so I figured them as religious types.
We did not pay attention to each other during our meal. Frankly, I did not care about anything but my family and was ignoring people as much as possible. Vacation brings out my selfish side. As we left, I nodded to the bikers in friendly way and said, “Have a good day.”
As I walked away, the skinny one asked if I took a lot of pictures with my fancy camera. I could not tell if he was being sarcastic. I felt compelled to answer. We spoke for a few minutes about photography and then the shifted over to bikes and their planned ride. It was friendly. Part of the way through describing their itinerary, they explained that the mountains were their church and that they were Christians out to worship the lord. I asked, “Why is that important?”
They looked at me like I were simple. “You know, so you won’t confuse us with bad bikers. You seem nice. We don’t want to put you off.”
I was in no mood for where this was heading, plus my family was standing in a hot parking lot, so I ended the conversation with a simple, “Do I look scared?”
I mean seriously, I haven't seen a scary looking biker on my vacation except for the shirtless dude with full body tats on a nasty ride the day before. Most bikers riding the mountain roads looked like middle-aged accountants with bad sunburns riding $25K hogs. I’m pretty sure that religion was the last thing on their minds.
What bothers me is the need for these people to tell me they are Christians, and to go a step further and differentiate themselves from the heathen biker masses as if that somehow makes them special and good. It feels wrong. It feels inauthentic.