On a Friday morning in May, Betsy Ahrens, 64, rode through the streets of Virginia Beach on a friend?s bright red Honda Gold Wing motorcycle. Ahrens was just one of 250 bikers to travel through the city by police escort that day, and pedestrians gawked, slack-jawed, at the processional. Drivers halted at intersections, aiming their cellphone cameras. A few people waved at Betsy, but tentatively, as though to greet a biker ? however friendly she seemed ? would be to welcome in potential chaos, the volatility associated with leather and chrome.
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Source: http://feeds.washingtonpost.com/click.phdo?i=2c1e7c31a87354aefe18959f856f2fe1
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