From a T-Shirt To a Harley Davidson

My love affair with two-wheelers began in 1979–80, when I would clandestinely ride my father’s Vijay Super scooter. In 1982, while in Class 9, I watched Apollo Circus and decided I too could launch a Vijay Super off an improvised ramp. The result: a broken front suspension and six months of pocket money spent on repairs.

Then came DAV College (1983–87), 13 km from home. With no other option, I cycled 26 km every day. But once commissioned in Army, I finally bought my first motorcycle, which was a Suzuki Supra, that I later bartered in Bangalore for a Yamaha RD350. I parted with the RD350 in Pune in 1996.

Thereafter, there was no two-wheeler in my life till 2013. A gap of 17 years during what should have been the prime riding years of my life. I was busy cementing my career.

I had heard of Harley-Davidson long before, but it was only in 2006 that I saw one in Harrods, London. At the time, I wasn’t impressed. I found Harleys big, clumsy, noisy and too slow. My dream machines were 1000cc inline-four sports bikes. I loved the scream of high-revving engines and was seriously considering booking a Kawasaki Z800.

Then came January 2011.

My wife’s maternal uncle came from the UK with his daughter’s father-in-law, a gentleman named Douglas John Lynos. Doug was in his mid-sixties, a quintessential Britisher, a hardcore Harley Owners Group member, and had ridden across Africa, China, Australia and Europe. Listening to his stories, I was fascinated.

One day, after a couple of drinks, Doug asked me to take him to the Himalayan Harley-Davidson dealership in Chandigarh. We reached DT Mall just as the store was about to close. Doug asked for a Himalayan Harley T-shirt, removed his jacket and shirt, and began trying it on right there.

The horrified merchandise staff hurriedly pointed him towards the changing room.

Doug stood his ground and declared:

“Changing room in Harley-Davidson? I’ll be damned.”

At the checkout counter, pointing towards me, he challenged the dealership staff:

“Can you convince him to ride a Harley?”

On the night of 19 February 2011, I received a call from Umang Shakar of Himalayan Harley-Davidson, inviting me for their breakfast ride the next morning.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked.

“Just come in jeans and boots, and bring your driving licence,” he replied.

Reluctantly, on 20 February 2011, I landed up at the dealership. After a few formalities, they handed me a helmet and the keys to a Street Bob.

There was a disciplined briefing on the machine and riding rules. Then I fired up the engine.

The moment I twisted the throttle, I was hooked.

The sheer torque of that counterbalanced rubber-mounted V-twin was unlike anything I had ever experienced. This was not the sharp rush of a sports bike. This felt like a Main Battle Tank rolling forward into battle.

For the first time in my life, I truly understood the difference between horsepower and torque, between high-revving engines and low-end grunt.

I fought the change of heart. Then came the final nail in the coffin.

Separated from the group, I was waiting at the traffic lights in Manimajra when a Range Rover with tinted windows pulled up beside me. The window rolled down and inside were two very glamorous women.

Naturally, I decided to channel my inner Hells Angel.

Poker-faced, I gave them my best icy stare.

One of them smiled and said: “Can I please click your picture?”

That was it. The rest of my tenure in Chandigarh was spent loitering around the Harley store. I am quite certain the staff eventually got fed up of me.

In 2013, I took delivery of a Harley-Davidson Iron 883 on behalf of a friend who knew nothing about motorcycles, let alone Harleys.

In 2014, I finally became the proud owner of my own Black Denim Iron 883.

Douglas John Lynos is now nearly 80, still rides, and remains a member of the 1066 HOG Club in the UK. His last major ride was nearly 5,700 km through the Pyrenees on his Breakout.

I can never thank him enough for introducing me not merely to a motorcycle, but to a way of life and to a brotherhood.

Today, I am riding my third Harley, the ultimate tourer, a Road King. Along the way, I also had the privilege of riding the factory-custom-built Super Glide Custom. With nearly 1 lakh kilometres under my belt, I have ridden across the length and breadth of the country, including Rohtang Pass and the Peer Panjal ranges.

Twelve years into Harley ownership, I still thank Doug for hooking me up with what I believe is the finest community in the world, the Harley Owners Group.

Ride safe, folks.

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