Yesterday I attended the Oregon State Fair. One of the nice things about this fair is that MCs are allowed to park "up front" in a small grass strip, just feet from the entrance. Thus, as people are waiting in line for their tickets, they slowly work their way past, and are given an opportunity to look at, all of the parked bikes.
Although I was the first person to park in the morning (9 am), while leaving (around 5 pm), my bike had the company of about 10 others. All were Harleys, with the exception of my Versys, one BMW and one metric cruiser.
As I was putting on my gear, on a nearby bench, I had the chance to watch and listen to the people passing by. I must admit that the Harleys, and to some extent the BMW, were receiving all of the attention and accolades. My Versys didn't get much more than a quick glance (and even one scornful look.)
Am I disappointed by this? The truth is, the intellectual part of me is not. I love my bike. I love what she can do. And I love riding her. That will never change. Yet deep down, a small part of me was let down. I suppose I felt like a parent who just saw his kid being picked last for teams in gym class.
I guess my point is this: The average American is still very much enamored with big, shiny, Harley cruisers. This may be slowly changing, but we are not there yet.
Nevertheless, I'm going to take my Versys for a ride now. I'll ride through the farm country and forests I'm lucky enough to have nearby. I'll go fast (enough) in the straights, carve up the twisties, listen to the sweet purr of the engine, smell the air and smile from ear to ear. And when I park at home later, I'll look at and admire my Versys and call it a very good day.