The truth is, it’s not possible to think about motorcycles without immediately heading towards the psychological implications of buying and riding one. There is a certain level risk if not danger, rebel imagery, the whole “put something powerful between your legs” thing, and the fact that your mother, girlfriend and/or wife at some point forbade that you ride one. It’s a regular psychiatrist’s cornucopia.

Prior to buying the Duc I decided to take a motorcycle safety class. This is a good idea. The classroom work is useful and the two weekends spent on a riding range are invaluable. During the odd moments of boredom I found myself wondering about my fellow classmates, and later, about the people I’ve met in motorcycle stores and on the road since. I’ve decided that the motorcycle universe, at least here in the US, can be roughly divided into the following classifications.

The young, hair-on-fire set. These guys just want to go fast and not do something stupid while posing on Alkai Avenue (in West