What got you into motorcycles?
Sometime after I had my 3 speed bike with the banana seat, sissy bar and extended forks, I wanted a motorcycle. I remember dragging the rusted frame of a mini-bike home someone had discarded in hopes my dad could fix it. The fact that it didn’t have a motor and the rear wheel didn’t hold air, didn’t dissuade me. i have always been a man of hope.
The first motorcyclist I went goo goo over turned out to be my father. The man I grew up to know and had seen sparsely as my “uncle” had chopped emerald green Honda 750 that he rode to visit me one summer while I was staying at my grandmothers.
She didn’t like him too much. Too bad because he became the man she didn’t think he could be. I loved my uncle. He was the definition of “cool.” I wanted to be just like him. I’m almost there.
Over the years I’ve owned a Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki and now a Harley. I got my first bike after my parents fought about what I would use to get me to a school across town. I did what all teenagers try. They play their parents against one another to get the desired result. It wasn’t hard this time because my stepfather and mother argued like it was an extreme sport.
I had worked hard for two summers and had built up some cash. Mom wanted me to use the money to buy a car, I wanted a motorcycle. Some days after the argument, my stepdad asked me to ride with him one afternoon. We went to a used cycle dealer a few miles away. I test rode a 1971-73 Honda 350. Not sure how much he paid for it but we loaded it in the back of his work truck and I drove it up into the yard and into the backyard like I had practiced doing it all my life. The bike and I were one. This isn’t it but it looked just like this one.
I felt invincible. I was sixteen. We all feel like that. A short “conversation” ensued that evening but I didn’t care. I went outside and sat on my bike in the shed, the smell of gasoline and hot exhaust was the best smell in the world that day.
What was your first bike?