Riding motorcycle is a perfect guy activity. You do it together. It involves machinery. And you can’t talk while doing it.
As a rule, talking isn’t something that guys include in a shared activity.
We watch football while eating wings and yelling. Not talking. Just yelling.
We have the ability to ride in a truck for an 8 hour road trip without saying a word, and not once will the thought enter our minds …”Is he mad at me?”
Motorcycling is a perfect guy social activity. You’re identified with the group, but other than the machine you’re on and the direction you’re headed, you don’t have to strive further for a membership card.
We may cloud this whole theory a bit with matching rocker patches, or helmets linked by com devices, but really those are more exceptions than the rule. I ride with, talk with, and see a lot more motorcycles without the gang identifiers. Most riders are out there just listening to the wind, the engine, and their own thoughts. That’s the attraction to riding for me. It’s a time for self-reflection. It’s a time for the freedom of the sound of the wind. It’s time to live in the moment.
You don’t need words for that.