A sad day

No, it isn't the rain, or the cold weather. I did something today which may shock some people, in a way it shocked me. I sold the Harley. (For my other motorcycling friends, don't worry, I didn't go entirely off the deep end and buy a BMW or anything like that.)

I say it shocked me in a way because this is something I have been talking about ever since moving here mainly due to the economics of it all. Harley's are inherently worth more and with the dollar doing as poorly as it has recently, it made the difference even more pronounced. But it was always talk. Actions are much harder to do.

I started this process on Saturday when I took it to the car wash to clean all the dirt and grime from the trip through the Alps off before going to the dealership to get a quote from them, which was pretty decent, I really wouldn't have sold it for too much more if I had done it myself and the whole language barrier with buyers would have been a real pain.

All the rest of the day and a lot of Sunday I thought about it and tried to figure out why it was a big deal to me and why I didn't just hand over the keys, but instead said, "Let me think about it and come back on Tuesday". Knowing dang well what the outcome was going to be.

Some theories I have come up with:

1. It is a part of my identity. Not as much as other parts, but when put together with all of the other parts, it is a very unique combination. Many of the people I work with know about my passion for motorcycles and frequently bring it up when I meet with them. Especially here, not many people ride Harley's let alone commute in a suit on them.

2. It was my first bike. After riding at the police department I knew I wanted one. It took a few years to be able to work it out and when I did I thought for sure it would be my only bike and with me for a very long time.

3. I worry about what the bike thinks. I know, crazy thought. But I read a book last year by Jeremy Clarkson, a personality on BBC's Top Gear. The book was titled "I know you got soul" and was about machines - mainly vehicles - and that although they were inanimate objects, they had a soul to them. The Concord was one of the great vehicles he highlighted and as he felt sorry for the plane when it was grounded he wondered if the plane thought "What have I done, why do they not want me to fly anymore."

So in the short term, I am not a biker by ownership, yet deep inside I will continue to love Harley's and will always look for the dealerships in the odd cities I end up in. I will also very likely walk away from those dealerships with a shot glass or t-shirt in hand. And one day, in the not so distant future, I will most likely ride out of one of those dealerships with a little more than a T-shirt...