J
johnzero
Guest
By way of Milwaukee
Sometime back in the mid-1990s I was working for a group at MIT's Sloan School of Management, and one of the companies we worked with was Harley Davidson. I was nearly 40 at the time, and totally convinced that motorcycles were an unnecessary and dangerous indulgence. I went out to Milwaukee for my first day of consulting and, as I usually did, asked to view the place where "the real work happened" - in this case, the factory floor. I saw gleaming V-Twin engines stacked four pallets high floor to ceiling and my heart started racing.
I had to learn how to ride, but I didn't know anyone who rode. I took the MSF course, and bought a Honda 450 Nighthawk to scratch up while I learned (I'm still learning), and went to my local dealer to put in my order for a Big Twin, which, I was told, would take months to fill. The salesmen looked me over and said, "You know, you should be on a BMW."
A month later I found a red K75 with full luggage, and it became "my bike".
Sometime back in the mid-1990s I was working for a group at MIT's Sloan School of Management, and one of the companies we worked with was Harley Davidson. I was nearly 40 at the time, and totally convinced that motorcycles were an unnecessary and dangerous indulgence. I went out to Milwaukee for my first day of consulting and, as I usually did, asked to view the place where "the real work happened" - in this case, the factory floor. I saw gleaming V-Twin engines stacked four pallets high floor to ceiling and my heart started racing.
I had to learn how to ride, but I didn't know anyone who rode. I took the MSF course, and bought a Honda 450 Nighthawk to scratch up while I learned (I'm still learning), and went to my local dealer to put in my order for a Big Twin, which, I was told, would take months to fill. The salesmen looked me over and said, "You know, you should be on a BMW."
A month later I found a red K75 with full luggage, and it became "my bike".