Members of the Milwaukee chapter of the Latin American Motorcycle Association gather at their southside clubhouse. Credit: Rick Wood

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They are factory workers, business owners, U.S. military veterans and more, all sharing a passion for Latino culture and Harley-Davidson motorcycles.

For more than 50 years, many Latino Harley riders have called themselves "Harlistas" as a way to proclaim their feelings for the Harley brand and the bonds shared between fellow riders.

It has helped make Harley-Davidson the No. 1 seller of new, on-street motorcycles among Hispanics in the United States, an important distinction as Harley broadens its market with sales to minorities and nontraditional customers.

Harley sells more than five times as many new bikes to African-Americans as its competitors and more than four times as many to Hispanics, said Shelley Paxton, Harley-Davidson's vice president of global marketing and brand.

There are many Harlistas in Milwaukee, some of them from Mexico, Puerto Rico, Central America and South America, bringing their cultural styling points to their motorcycles.

Sporting tall handlebars, a lowrider chassis and a sound system blasting Latino music, some of the bikes would be at home on the San Bernardino freeway in Los Angeles.

"Everybody has their own individual style and their own idea of how they want to be represented on their Harley. It's almost like a tattoo on your body," said Robert Miranda, a Harlista and a member of the Latin American Motorcycle Association — known as LAMA — chapter in Milwaukee.

For many Latino immigrants, especially, owning a Harley-Davidson represents their success in the United States.

"They feel as if they've graduated to the big boys of motorcycle riding," said Miranda, who owns a 2006 Harley Softail and a 2010 Harley Electra Glide.

Harlistas are Harley-Davidson enthusiasts, but not all LAMA members ride Harleys. Also, the Latin American Motorcycle Association, which is based in Chicago and has chapters across the nation, says it welcomes motorcyclists of all races.

The Milwaukee chapter members say they welcome spouses, children and extended family to their events.

They emphasize that LAMA is not an outlaw group like the Hell's Angels or the Pagans.

There are rules, for instance, against unruly behavior and drinking and riding.

It's the complete opposite of an outlaw club, said Jorge Valle, chapter president.

The Milwaukee group has raised money for local charities, but often its efforts are focused on helping families facing an unexpected need.

"We are totally family-oriented. That's the way LAMA was started 39 years ago in Chicago and that's the way we want to keep it," Valle said.

The group stands out when it rolls into small towns with loud, colorful motorcycles and the riders clad in biker leathers.

"But it's all good. A lot of people come up to us and want to talk about the bikes," Miranda said.

The Milwaukee chapter is seven years old. It has only a couple of dozen members, which isn't many considering the growing number of Hispanics in the area.

The cost of owning a motorcycle is an issue for some new immigrants as they get established in this country.

Many people buy a used bike, partly because it's more affordable, and also because some of the older models haven't changed that much in appearance over the years.

"You can customize your bike, little by little, just the way you want it. You get attached to the bike itself," said Valle, who rides a 2008 Electra Glide.

Jose Ortiz, a quality-control technician at a manufacturer in Grafton, recently bought his first Harley, a 2009 Road King Classic. Previously he rode foreign-made sport bikes built for speed, not comfort.

"When you get a little bit older, you just want to cruise. I am not into speed and crotch-rocket bikes anymore," Ortiz said.

Much of Harley-Davidson's success has come from its status as an American icon, and that it represents a rebellious, free-spirited kind of individual.

That image is popular outside the U.S., too.

Ricardo Rangel, a Harley dealer in Merida, Mexico, said he used to wear a suit and tie to work. But when he came to Milwaukee for Harley's 100th anniversary celebration in 2003, he shaved his head, got his ears pierced and switched to Harley T-shirts.

"When they put me in my wooden pajamas (a coffin), I don't want to be wearing a suit," Rangel said in a 2012 Journal Sentinel interview.

As the U.S. normalizes trade relations with Cuba, Harley-Davidson could benefit from the brand loyalty that's still intact decades after the company stopped selling motorcycles in the communist country.

Cuba's Harlistas have had to scrounge for spare parts to keep their vintage machines going. Urban legend has it that Fidel Castro's regime buried 1,000 Harley-Davidson motorcycles after the 1959 revolution that put Castro in power.

Harley is waiting for its opportunity on the island nation.

"We certainly have a passionate customer base in Cuba, so we have a great foundation laid for when it makes sense to enter the market," said Harley-Davidson spokesman Tony Macrito.

One of the most powerful documentary films about Latino motorcyclists is called "Harlistas: An American Journey."

In that film, director Alfredo de Villa follows the emotional journeys of real-life Harlistas. One of the stories comes from a biker who mourns his deceased father and copes with his grief through the motorcycle culture that his father loved.

The bonds that Harlistas have with their bikes, and with each other, are powerful.

The allure of a Harley, with its throbbing V-Twin engine that runs such a powerful machine, is bigger than anything Harley-Davidson controls and the brand itself, de Villa said.