Why buy a stereo if you don’t listen to music?

I know people, more than a few, who have a Harley and don’t ride it much.  I’ve never been able to understand that.

I bought my second Harley, a ’94 Fat Boy, in 2003, with less than 4,000 kilometres (2500 miles) on the clock.  When I traded it, six and a half years later, for a Road King, it had 160,000 kilometres (100, 000 miles) on the clock and had seen a whole lot of Australia.  I’m nothing special, I just love to ride.

I know that from time to time, life gets in the way of doing things we enjoy.  Most of us have to work.  Many have family issues, good and bad, that arise and must be dealt with.  Most of us will have health issues – our own or others – that override just about everything else.

These things happen and can pull us away from what we enjoy.  I’m not talking about them.  What I’m talking about are those who outlay a lot of money for a H-D and then don’t use it.  In Australia, that can be over $15K (USD12,500) for a Sportster, or $32K (USD27K) for a Softail.

I’ve heard some people say that if you ride it too much you lose resale value.  Strikes me that you could save a whole lot more by not buying one in the first place.

I’ve heard others say that they just don’t get time, what with golf, or sailing, or whatever.

Now, it’s not up to me to judge anyone’s right to do whatever they want with their time, or to use their Harley-Davidson in any way they see fit.

I just don’t understand some people.  That’s all.

A continental shift

When I was younger, I used to ride bikes made in an Asian factory. 

I started riding when I was 17, with a little red Honda CB200.  I thought I was so cool to be riding a motorcycle.  A photo may still exist somewhere of me standing beside it with my (flared) jeans tucked into my surplus-store fleece-lined flying boots.

After a series of bikes from that same country over 10 or more years, I threw a Yamaha 750 down the road under a car coming in the opposite direction.  That did it for me for quite a while. 

Fast-forward another 10 or 12 years.  New family.  Different house (coincidentally, not three kilometres from where I dropped the 750).  Beautiful coast road.  Every weekend we’d see lots of bikes out enjoying that road.  The family got sick of my stock phrase, “Nice day for a ride.”

Father’s Day, September 2001 rolls around and my wife says that she got me a present but left it at Joe’s house.  So we jump into the car and head over to the next suburb.  When we get there, she says, “I think it’s in the garage.  Why don’t you take a look?”

As I entered the garage, she turns on the light, and there in front of me was a 1995 Sportster with forward controls.  For me.

Speaking of coincidences, I'd always been keen on Teal as a great colour for Harleys.  I'd seen it on a few Harleys over the years and loved it, but never mentioned that to anyone.  The Sportster (a surprise present - remember?) was Teal!!

Several years on, she now has her own stock phrase, “I bought you a small Harley because I wasn’t sure you’d like it.  Now look what I’ve created!”

Michael

PS:  My wife originally sourced the Sportster through a friend’s husband, who’d noticed the bike for sale on a noticeboard where he worked.  She asked him to check out the bike and make sure it was the right quality (which it was).  Then she negotiated with the fellow selling the bike over the phone, and never actually met him.

She arranged for the bike to be delivered to Joe’s house, at which point the money would be handed over.  She left the money, thousands of dollars, with Joe to hand over on delivery.

Now Joe, an artistic type, was worried about having all that money, so he hid it – in a little pink clutch purse!  So, the bike is delivered by this stereotypical Harley rider – big, bearded, tattoos.  Joe then says, “Here’s your money”, and hands over this little pink clutch bag dangling from his hand by a dainty little chain.

We heard afterward that Mr Harley Man thought it was all a set-up and was looking for the candid camera.  Wish I’d seen that!

Musings of a H-D Addict

I know people who ride Harley-Davidson motorcycles who have a badge that says, "If I have to explain, you wouldn't understand."

That phrase was probably created by some advertising guy in New York or Milwaukee who dresses in black with a little ponytail.  Harley-Davidson spends millions of dollars a year paying that advertising guy to come up with expressions like that.  Some are great, but some are so overblown that even devotees cringe. In truth, the American appreciation of subtlety and understatement means that most of them lean towards "cringe"!  In this particular case, though, that advertising guy seems to have summed up Harley-Davidson pretty well.

What I get out of the phrase is that Harley-Davidson fills a need, a need that sometimes we don't even know we have until then.  And how do I describe a solution for a need that doesn't exist for you?

What I hope to do with this blog, in a round-about sort of way, is talk about that need.  I might write about what Harley-Davidson means to me.  Or maybe why it has to be Harley rather than some other brand of motorcycle.  Or even my version of the Harley-Davidson experience, because I suspect that the Harley experience is different, often in small ways, for each of us.

I won't try to explain, but maybe by touching random elements, I might shine a bit of light on the road.  Along the way, you might meet some great characters (or character types), hear about some great motorcycle rides and places, and endure thoughts that occur to me while riding, about riding, or watching others ride.

It might be that nobody out there reads this stuff.  If so, that's life.  But if you do happen to tune in, let me know your thoughts.