The United States went through far more angst - and violence - to end segregation than South Africa experienced in dismantling apartheid only 30 years later. Millions still alive can recall just what it took to realise basic human rights for people of colour in the southern states, so it's not surprising that Americans take their civil liberties very seriously indeed.
Every American biker will tell you that anybody who rides without a crash helmet deserves to be flushed out of the gene pool; any sympathy they have is reserved for the idiot's family and the paramedics who have to clean up the mess. But, at the same time, no responsible motorcycling organisation in the US will countenance a law that makes wearing a helmet compulsory.
Yet even given all that, I could never understand what motivated American motorcyclists right across the spectrum - from the Hell's Angels to the Historic Motorcycle Racing Club, the Christian Motorcyclists Association and even the Knights of Justice (a motorcycle club for law-enforcement personnel) - to oppose the infamous 'Double Nickel' 55mph (88km/h) national speed limit so bitterly, so consistently and, ultimately, so successfully.
The Double Nickel (a nickel, Cyril, is an American 5c coin) was imposed by the Nixon administration as a knee-jerk reaction to the 1973 oil crisis. It was finally repealed in 1995 after decades of virulent opposition from truckers, automobile associations and bikers - none more vocal than the riders' groups.
So when I had an American-built full-dress tourer on test recently, I felt it would be appropriate for me to find out for myself what 88km/h on the open road felt like. On a quiet Sunday morning, I pointed its big, bluff fairing in the general direction of Namibia, set the cruise control to a needle's width shy of 90km/h, turned up the radio and sat back to enjoy the ride.
But not even Beethoven's Fifth at full blast helped. Within 30km I was yawning and less than an hour into the ride I jerked awake for the second time, on the wrong side of the road and headed for the ditch.
At which point I decided that even hands-on investigative journalism would not justify wrecking somebody else's R230 000 motorcycle, so I pulled over at the next lay-by, took off my helmet and had a long drink of cold water.
Five minutes later I was heading back home at a relaxed 140, wide awake, fully in control and enjoying a truly beautiful Sunday morning and a superb long-haul bike, all the more for having so nearly thrown it all away.
So now we know. American motorcyclists opposed the 55mph speed limit not as a matter of principle but as a matter of survival. On the long, straight country roads for which both the United States and South Africa are renowned, the Double Nickel is a killer.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. T'aint so, Bro.
It's paved with nickels, two at a time.