Motorcycles are a big part of the American consciousness, symbolizing freedom, rebellion, danger, excitement, and a host of other things Americans like to talk about. However, those same things also make Americans a little uneasy, which may be why the very few existing books about motorcycling also center around mental illness. Robert Pirsig's turgid, overrated Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance, for example, concerns itself more with a strange stew of Western philosophies and the haunted creepiness inside the protagonist's skull than Zen, motorcycles, or maintenance. What sets Fred Haefele's motorcycling memoir, Rebuilding The Indian, apart is its matter-of-fact quality, its wonderful simplicity in dealing with Haefele's restoration of a 1941 Indian Chief. While this long, difficult, expensive mechanical puzzle comes together—the beautiful and much-lamented Indian motorcycle hasn't been made for 50 years, is exceedingly rare, and wasn't cheap even when new—Haefele basically lives his life. He becomes a father at 50, makes his living by climbing around in treetops with a chainsaw, deals with his friends and family, watches the seasons change in Montana, and, like every vehicle restorer, wonders if his ride will ever be finished. If Haefele were a lesser writer, he would merely draw poetic parallels between the motorcycle and his life and be done with it, but he has the judgment to see the difference between his mechanical and organic lives. What he has created with Rebuilding The Indian is no more and no less than a lovely everyday tale about accepting changes in life—whether they concern babies, rare motorcycle parts, or yourself—with grace and love.