On the streets of L.A., you are what you ride

On Sundays, nearly everyone who's been rolling on and off the throttle up here will find their way to the Rock Store, the greasy spoon on and Highway that serves as a pit stop for riders in need of solid ground. In the mornings, that means sport bikers, who've kick-started their day with a shot of two-wheeled adrenaline. In the afternoons, it's Harley guys, who prefer to ride on a full stomach, eating first and cruising second.

But if they do find themselves there at the same time, they'll squeeze through the congested gravel turnout to park their bike near a like brand.

"You've got the chrome over there, and you've got all the fanciest, newest technology over there," said Andrew Lin, a 23-year-old financial analyst who parked his electric blue Kawasaki Ninja next to a stranger's Suzuki GSXR.

The Harley contingent, in the minority before noon, have stacked their Sportsters and Road Kings at the other end of the lot.

"The Harley guys basically have this perception that we're the fast, crazy guys, that we're reckless and we don't care," said Ahmad Shahriar, proud owner of an egg-yolk-yellow Ducati 748. "Even riding through the canyons, a lot of people wave at each other out of respect just because we're bikers. The Harley guys, unless you're a Harley, they'll never wave at you."

Shahriar, a jewelry salesman from nearby Pacific Palisades, says it doesn't bother him.

"Not at all. I just have never been into Harley. I just think it's a big, bulky, cumbersome lawnmower."

The rivalry between Harley riders and sport bikers is clear and longstanding. Yet even among sport bikes, there are divisions -- between those who understand the power of the engines they are straddling and ride within the limits, and squid, the reckless riders who push the limits, pay the price and give the sport a bad name. "There's not many guys who can ride these bikes to their full potential. You can't. You'd be an idiot if you did because you're not on a track and you don't know what's coming through a blind turn," said Shahriar, 32. "There's a lot of guys who do that."

Cruisers, choppers

"That's retarded," says Randy Botelho, watching a sport biker pop a wheelie in speeding, PCH traffic. It's Sunday afternoon at Neptune's Net, the fried-fish shack and biker hangout on the Ventura County line, and the smell of grease hangs in the air along with the unmistakable -- and patented -- grumble of fast-gathering hogs.