Indian Motorcycle is one of the oldest names in motorcycling. Founded in 1901, it actually predates Harley-Davidson, building its reputation on big American V twins, racing success, and cultural relevance long before “heritage” became trendy. It also famously collapsed, disappeared, and reappeared multiple times across the 20th century, which made its legacy feel kinda fragile.
That’s why its most recent revival mattered more than its previous ones.
But when Polaris acquired Indian Motorcycle in 2011, it didn’t treat it like a quick flip. Polaris invested heavily in engineering, manufacturing, and racing. New platforms like the Thunder Stroke and PowerPlus engines arrived. Indian went racing again, dealers were rebuilt, and over time, the brand clawed its way back from novelty status into a legitimate Harley rival.
For more than a decade, Indian felt like it actually found its rhythm. Heck, a good number of its bikes even made their way all the way to Manila, and they continue to be a fairly common sight on weekend rides and bike nights.
The news in October 2025 of the brand's sale, however, landed with so much weight. Polaris announced it would sell a majority stake in Indian to Los Angeles-based private equity firm Carolwood LP, spinning Indian off as a standalone company. Polaris would retain a minority interest, but operational control was shifting. The official reasoning was simple. Indian made up roughly 14% of Polaris’ revenue, and Polaris wanted to refocus on its off-road and powersports core.
On paper, it made sense. But in the real world, you can bet not everyone was happy. And this week, that reality reared its ugly head, as Polaris confirmed it will close its Osceola, Wisconsin, manufacturing plant by the end of the year, meaning around 200 workers will lose their jobs.
The facility produces motorcycle engines and powertrains, along with components for Polaris’ off-road vehicles and snowmobiles. As part of the Indian deal, engine manufacturing will be consolidated at the Spirit Lake, Iowa, plant that’s included in the sale.
Shifting our focus back to the business side of things, we can see why Polaris decided to shut down the Wisconsin plant. Once Indian becomes a standalone company, redundant motorcycle manufacturing capacity inside Polaris doesn’t make sense anymore. Since the sale of Indian, it was clear that consolidation was well on its way. The decision is logical. But it doesn't make it any less devastating for the people affected.
200 jobs isn’t some abstract figure, even though that's what the bigwigs at corporate HQ want to believe. In reality, it’s 200 households dealing with rent, mortgages, groceries, school fees, and healthcare. Polaris says operations will wind down in phases and that relocation and outplacement services are on the table. That helps, but it doesn’t erase the reality that a community built around manufacturing is being hollowed out.
To me, the Osceola closure looks like the first unmistakable consequence of Indian’s move into private equity ownership. Leaner operations, centralized production, and zero tolerance for overlap all result in a healthier bottom line. It’s just how private equity tends to work. Efficiency is the product.
For a heritage brand, though, that approach creates a whole lot of friction.
Indian’s modern value isn’t just in units sold. It’s in story, continuity, and the sense that someone’s playing the long game. Under Polaris, Indian benefited from patience. Big engineering investments and racing programs were allowed to exist even when margins were thin. That patience helped rebuild credibility.
As a standalone PE-backed company, Indian won’t have that same buffer. Every platform now has to justify itself financially. That doesn’t mean bad bikes are coming. It does suggest less room for risk and fewer passion projects. And in an industry that's been driven by passion pretty much since the dawn of time, that just won't sit well with a lot of people.
There’s also the Polaris angle, and this is where emotions run hot. Polaris saved Indian. That’s undeniable. But selling the brand after years of positioning it as a long-term revival effort has left a sour taste for part of the enthusiast base. Like the relationship ended just as things were finally stabilizing.
Now, it's important to point out that this is an opinion... my opinion, and not an accusation. Polaris is a public company with shareholders. And depending on your point of view, their logic is defensible. Nevertheless, the Osceola plant closure is a reminder that shiny things like brand history and heritage don't protect people when ownership changes. They don't shield communities. They only carry weight until the balance sheet says otherwise.
Sources: Star Tribune, Polaris
