What's in a word?

A couple of years ago, we were sitting around talking with a few other couples when one of the guys said, 

"Does anyone want to go for a bike ride this weekend?" 

Well, in my naivete, I thought he meant, you know, a bike ride, so I said, "Sure, I do." 

You can guess what kind of look I received in reply. 

"Oh," he said, eyeing me pityingly, "I meant motorcycles."

Of course. 

How could I possibly think that "bike" meant... well, that it meant bike? 

As in, short for bicycle?

The real question, of course, should not be:

How could I be so stupid? 

but:

Why have motorcyclists been allowed to co-opt the term 'bike' to refer exclusively to their chosen means of transport?

 You could say that as an ESL instructor, I need to be something of a expert in language. But it doesn't take an expert to see that if you want to shorten the word "bicycle," it's natural to start with the first two letters. 

Hence, the term bike. This term has a noble history, dating way back to 1880.

Motorcycles became popular a little later. Too bad. But that's beside the point.

As much as I dislike motorcycles, I do sympathize with their users' wish to shorten the contraption's name. But shouldn't consistency dictate that the short moniker for motorcycle be "moke"? I mean, what's wrong with that?

"Let's go out for a moke ride tomorrow."

"Wanna go moking this weekend?"

"Are you a moker?"

"What kind of moke do you have?" 

I like that. No more confusion for those of us who ride non-motorized two-wheelers. No need to refer to ourselves as "cyclists," causing raised eyebrows from people who think we are being snobbish. 

And best of all, when two-year-olds who have trouble saying the initial "s" ask their moms, as my son once did, "Why do people 'moke?" the question acquires a delightful double meaning. And Mom can reply to both with a diplomatic but eloquent shrug of the shoulders.