My dad’s friend, we’ll call him Charlie (because that’s his name), lives only a few miles from me. He and my dad met in grade school, some sixty-plus years ago. I’ve ridden dirt bikes with him many times, having grown up in that crowd. He’s a cool mother fucker. And he was a Green Beret, so he’s a bad ass too. Anyway, he came over a few weeks ago for some computer work, and had a look at my Scout, and loved it. I think maybe it lit a fire under his ass a little bit to get his old Yamaha Road Star running again. It’s been sitting a long time in his garage.
Anyway, he sent me pictures of it when he got back home and said he would get it cleaned up, go get the registration renewed and all that, and then let me know so we could go on a ride. Well, he did all that and texted me about a week ago saying he was ready. So we planned to go out this weekend and have a nice ride around the lake. Only when I showed up in his driveway at 0800, his Road Star was not sitting in the driveway. What was sitting there instead was a brand new Indian Scout.
Very nice. He said he had been wanting to get a smaller bike – something he could handle a little more easily given that he’s getting on up there in age. He had not considered the Indians until he saw mine. So he went out last week and threw his leg over a few different bikes: the Yamaha, the Suzuki, a Honda… But the Scout was exactly what he wanted. So he bought it. Oh. Hey, you’re welcome, Indian.
So we went on a nice ride around White Rock Lake, then on out Military Parkway past Mesquite over to Ray Hubbard, then back. It was early enough to where it was still nice and cool, and a lot of those back-roads are covered by beautiful canopies of hundred-plus-year-old trees. So the ceiling of trees is thirty to forty feet above your head. Just gorgeous. It was just a really nice ride. And I’m not above saying I’m pretty excited about his new purchase, and what that means for me. He’s going to be excited to ride his new Scout every chance he gets, right? So that means more buddy-rides. It’s nice having someone who lives only a few minutes away who wants to ride as much as I do. Well, I don’t know that for sure yet. But we’ll see.
I’m also pretty tickled that he bought an Indian. It’s nice to see more American iron out on the roads, right? Now I’ve got to get to work on some of my other friends. Inasmuch as one can say I’m responsible for people getting a vehicle, I can claim I think four for the Jeep Wrangler. No joke. Four people have bought Jeeps because of exposure to mine. Chris was a sports car guy. I worked with him and parked my Jeep next to his little sport enough times that he finally saw the light. This is not me bragging or anything either. He will tell you exposure is what brought him around. Then there was CJ, back in the day. My ex-brother-in-law Blake was one too, though not directly. But he saw the utility and fun to be had in mine many times, and has since (not that we’re no longer in touch) converted himself. Paul, a guy I worked security with at church, he finally came around. Started texting me six months ago asking about options and features. Two-door or four? Stick or auto? Then finally sent me a picture of him standing beside a new one. It seems like there’s one other in there somewhere, though I can’t pin him down at the moment. Anyway, if I can do the same with Indians, all to the good. And maybe someday they’ll send me a check. Or a new bike. Right, guys?