I don’t normally get into doing group rides, but I did one yesterday. A charity event for the surviving children of SpecOps vets killed in combat/ while on duty.
Nothing like be surrounded by 103 “operators” (current, former and retired) on 103 bad ass bikes to make you want to put the band back together and pull of a coup d’etat in some out of the way corner of the world. It’s beyond my capacity to describe the sense of power, energy and potentiality
77 miles from Ft Bragg, I walked into a bike shop to kill time while waiting for my girl’s lunch break to start. As I walk in the door someone says “were you on a team?”. I tell him “something like. Behind the fence”. Question asked in informal code, response and counter challenge offered. Turns out the guy retired out of the 2nd Recon in 2006 when all the restructuring was going down, moved back to middle of know where North Carolina and opened a bike shop with his father. Also a USMC retire.
The guy is a real motorcycle enthusiasts. Man you could tell he loved bikes of all sorts, and tactically agreed that Yamaha was probably making the best production bikes for the money right now. Having to admit that really hurts us Harley guys. Deep down. Any rate he got to telling me about carburetors, and I learned a lot from him. I made the decision to bring my Fat Boy to him when I get back to have my carbs rebuilt. Because of his enthusiasm as much as his expertise.
When I 1st joined the army, seemed like every wrestler in the 1st Ranger Batt knew I was a wrestler. Wrestling gives you a particular build. Not sure most folks see the difference but when you spend a lot of time on the mat you learn to recognize things like the rolled shoulders and usual upper-back development. Not sure why SpecOps guys are so good at picking each other out of a crowd. I rarely display my tatts in public and this kind of thing is not a rare occurrence. I reckon it just is what it is.
When I walk into a gym for the 1st time, other power-lifters know I am one of them. They know and comment/ invite me to train before I pull any suits, belts or wraps out of my gym bag. We’re easy to spot when you know what to look for. Big without being pretty or cut, all triceps, upper back and posterior chain. Most of us seem to prefer crew cuts, beards and tattoos. My ex-wife use to say that was my second uniform.
When I moved here, an OG use to give me the stink eye. Nothing to confrontational but for sure putting me on notice. Long story short, he has done some hard time over the years and I have more than a few White Identity tatts. He was right to check me out. Crazy ass-cracker moving into his hood and all. We have since come to a pretty good understanding, but like recognizes like in the realm of primal masculinity.
My question to you is, what kind of man sums you up and recognizes himself in you?