My father and I are slated to ride down to see the first ever Nascar Truck race on the dirt at Eldora Speedway in Ohio. Now, with my Harley being down for an electrical issue, that means taking BMW (which is more comfortable, and cruises the highway much better anyways).
I call my father to let him know I’ll be taking the Beemer instead.
“No fucking way am I riding beside that thing!”
My father is a Harley rider through and through. So am I, for that matter. But I can get past that enough to see the reason some other brands have their share of the market. My father can’t. Period.
“You can’t pull into a Nascar event at a dirt track on that bike!”
I’m thinking, “It’s actually better suited in the dirt than any Harley, but….”
So Dad says he’ll get his other Harley going and I can ride it down. He’s got his quirks, but hell, that also means I’ll get to ride the Fatboy to Ohio. I’ve never ridden it before and look forward to the chance.
It just goes to show that Harleys and BMW’s, at least for my father, are like Oil and Water.