Why I ride a Harley
Last night as I was parking up on my way to the cinema I got chatting with a guy who liked the look of the Harley. What really struck a cord was the reason he admired them, like me Arnie on his stolen Fat Boy in Terminator 2.
I fell in love with these gargantuan lumps of steel as a kid, but knew I had to have one the moment he threw a leg over it.
After the mandatory warnings of them being big, heavy, slow, not cornering, not stopping,the cost of servicing, and the never ending battle with rust, that has become something I do whenever someone asks about Harley's here in the UK where they are not the most popular bikes, I waxed lyrical about why I ride one. I love the way they feel, I have never found anything that lets you relax into a ride the way they do, lets your lungs expand and the days niggles drain away.
I fell in love with these gargantuan lumps of steel as a kid, but knew I had to have one the moment he threw a leg over it.
After the mandatory warnings of them being big, heavy, slow, not cornering, not stopping,the cost of servicing, and the never ending battle with rust, that has become something I do whenever someone asks about Harley's here in the UK where they are not the most popular bikes, I waxed lyrical about why I ride one. I love the way they feel, I have never found anything that lets you relax into a ride the way they do, lets your lungs expand and the days niggles drain away.
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