Quite near my home there is a Harley-Davidson dealer I sometimes visit just to have somewhere motorcycle-oriented to visit and make the occasional generic accessory purchase. This weekend they were hosting their event, "Sturgis in Lisle", with the idea of giving bikers (overwhelmingly, Harley riders) a place to go if they did not go to the giant motorcycle rallye in Sturgis, South Dakota, attracting tens of thousands.
Well, I pulled into the parking lot and looked up to see nearly every eye on the old girl (certainly not, this old boy). As I got off to walk into the store two gents came up to me and said "you can't just walk away, you know every guy our age who once owned a BSA wants to talk to you." They were very happy to see my A10 amongst the hogs and invited me to come to the vintage mortorycle rallye hosted, tomorrow, by the local Norton owner's club at yet another Harley dealer. Drat! Tomorrow is an inlaw family reunion. For the sake of matrimonial harmony, there is no chance in hades of attending the rallye. They also invited me to join the Norton owner's club, which I might do because, here in Chicago, it is the closest thing to a British bike club. Still, I'm holding it in abeyance.
That's it, just chatting.
Richard L.