Monday, September 01, 2008

Dreams Do Come True


When we were dating, Skinny Kinny got me a miniature Harley Road King. She told me that someday, she would buy me the real deal. We were married in 1995 at Stone Chapel, Drury College.

Earlier this summer we were on our way to Columbia. We stopped off in Camdenton for some shopping. We had extra time, so I suggested we stop at the Harley dealership. Outside, they had the most beautiful Road King I had ever seen.

We had an appointment, so we trotted off, but we stopped again on our way back home. I sat in the salesperson’s office and we talked. I didn’t think it was a good time, so we left it at that. My aunt’s funeral was in Lebanon on Saturday. She was a wonderful woman and a great elementary teacher for many years.

After the funeral, and on our way home, we stopped off at the Lebanon Harley dealership. There it was again. The same bike sat on the showroom floor. The same people own both dealerships. I sat on it, took it for a test ride in my suit, and contemplated, but I left Lebanon empty handed.

That night my wife and I were in bed. She reaches over and taps my arm and says: “I am as excited to get you that bike as you are to get it. I’m going to buy it for you.” That was it. We called the next morning, made our deals, and then drove up while they got it ready for me.

Saturday night I rode my first Harley home. Not just any Harley and not just some stock Harley of which there are hundreds of others exactly like it on the road. I drove home a custom Road King. On my side were my Dad and one of our bike-riding buddies. I called Dad that morning and told him what I was going to do and he and Mike met me in Lebanon and rode home with me.

It has been a wonderful experience and a gift that I am very appreciative of. I’ve always wanted a motorcycle, specifically a Harley. I’ve always dreamed of a bike with flames. There’s just something cool about flames. I love purple and I think it looks stunning on a motorcycle. So to have all of that on a Road King is the perfect storm. We snapped it up, because to buy a bike and do to it what was done to this bike would have cost me thousands of dollars more than I paid for it.

There is history here. You see, when I bought my first bike – the Honda – it didn’t go quite so smoothly. My parents came up for something. I told me wife that my Dad and I were going out to look at bikes. Remember when I told you that I have wanted a motorcycle for years? Keep that in mind for a minute.

What was said:
“Honey, I’m going out with my Dad to look at motorcycles.”

What a Man Means:

I’m shopping for a bike. If I find the right one I’m buying it on the spot. See ya later.”

What a Woman Hears:
“Dear wife, I am window shopping. I shan’t dare do a thing without first talking to you again and again.”


We had been saving up for a refrigerator. That is until I rode up on the bike that evening with my parents behind me in the truck. “What do you think?” we asked.

“That’s a damn fine refrigerator,” says the wife. Then she goes back inside the hosue. Not good.

She wasn’t happy. I had made a serious faux pas and made an ass out of u and me. It wasn’t intentional, but I did it without thinking or considering my wife. I won’t make that mistake again.

For her to buy me a bike – the perfect bike – is a beautiful marital experience. I am in awe of the great lady that I have as my partner. She is great and wants to do things for me, to make me happy. I am happy with her (bike or no bike). She is a great spouse.

I wanted to share my experience with you. Enjoy the photos of my dream bike.


The run-through at the dealership before I rode it home. That's Mike (right) and Dad (left) in the back watching the mechanic and I do a run-through.


The money shot.


A shot from above.


A close up of the saddle bags.


The front forks (and crash bars) are blacked out. That is a newer trend in motorcycles. Most people want all chrome. Painting some of the front forks creates contrast and makes the parts that are chrome really pop.


More of the black forks.


Gas tank detail.


This is a custom paint job from the Harley Davidson factory. It is hand numbered and is #20 out of 100. Not bad. So there are not many bikes out there like mine.


The front fender.


Custom seat detail.


The pipes have these flame-embossed heat shields. It is a great detail. I've never seen them before.


These are the fishtail pipes. It gives the bike a nostalgic, 1950's look. It reminds me of the fins on my first car: a 1956 Chevrolet. I love the pipes.

9 comments:

Complaint Department Manager said...

Dude, THAT is money! If I had it, I'd probably be sleeping on it for at least a week, my legs may stop working for a bit as well.

dirtsister said...

Love that bike.

run_deep said...

SahWEET! And you are right about that kitty kat o' yours, by the way. Wow, man, beautimous.

Anonymous said...

You're not proud of it are you? I know you are and have every right to be proud. It is a beautiful bike! Only hope you will with my Wing. We'll have to go to Sturgis, Ky in 2009. Maybe even Sturgis, SD.

Larry Litle said...

It is awesome. Congratulations on an awesome Harley. I want to go for a ride.

Anonymous said...

Dude! Awesome bike - and a wonderful story about your dear wife. Life is good!

Jack said...

Anon 2:10

I will ride with your Wing any old time. I still wave at the metric bikes, but not the scooters. Those things repulse me.

Jason Rohrblogger said...

Congratulations. On the wife and the bike!

Jason said...

Congrats on the bike and thanks for helping my son's stock options rise. :)