| Author | Message | ||
     Crusty |
I posted this over on Wild Guzzi, and since I have a lot of friends here, I've decided to post it here. I once rode through a cattle drive on my motorcycle. It was in late June of 1978. The bike was a 1969 Honda 750 (K0), and I hated it, but it was the only bike I could afford at the time. Let me backtrack a bit. The year before, my wife and I had split up. While I really loved her, it was not mutual, and I finally couldn’t take it any more. I went to visit a friend in Kentucky for a while, and then decided to go visit my best friend Ron, who was in California working on helicopters. When I and my bike, a Moto Guzzi Sport, arrived in California, I was pretty much broke, and I was going to have to find a job and make a few bucks. The company Ron was working for needed a night watchman to guard the helicopter. They were logging with the helicopter and it was parked in a clearing in the woods. It looked like pretty easy money, so I took the job. One thing led to another, and when the ship and the crew moved to Oregon, I went with them. In Oregon, They needed a fuel truck driver, so every morning I’d drive up to the landing, get the truck and drive to the airport in Eugene to get another 1200 gallons or so of Jet A. The maintenance crew was also short handed, so I would work on the helicopter when I got back with the truck. I was working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was the best therapy for me and my totally scrambled brain. I pretty much worked that way for almost a year. I lived in various motels and got to travel all over the Northwest as we moved from one Sale to another. Now, in January our bikes got stolen; my Guzzi, Ron’s 750 Honda and Lee Perry’s Yamaha were all chained to a trailer which was, in turn chained to a light post in a motel parking lot. The Highway Patrol found the trailer, but we never got our bikes back. I knew a guy in Colorado Springs who had a Honda for sale, so I called him and we worked out a deal where I could send him installments and he would hold the bike until it was paid for and I could come pick it up. So, in late May, I took a 1 month leave of absence from my job, and flew to the Springs to pick up my bike and hit the road. After visiting with friends, and seeing a ½ Mile National in Erie, CO I set out for Louisville, KY to visit with friends and see the Louisville ½ Mile National. Then I rode up to Massachusetts to visit my family and friends. I hadn’t seen them in 4 years. After that, it was back to Louavul to meet up with the guys and go to the Rally at Bowling Green. The Honda really started running badly at Bowling Green, and it got hauled back to Louisville in a van. Then it took most of a day to find the problem. The next day, I was off to Colorado Springs. As I was riding across Kansas, the engine dropped two cylinders, so I pulled over under a bridge and discovered that only two cylinders were getting spark. Of course, I left my 5mm Allen wrench laying in the grass at Bowling Green, so I couldn’t get to my points to check them. Eventually, a Good Samaritan stopped, and he went home and brought back some tools and we managed to get the points cover off. One of the condensers had died. I knew that all condensers had the same capacitance, so I bought one for a car. I had to hose clamp it to the dead condenser, and leave the points cover off, but it worked well enough to get me to Colorado Springs. In the Springs, I got a new condenser, bought a new rear tire and replaced the drive chain and sprockets. I also visited with friends for a couple of days, then it was time to head for the Idaho Panhandle and go back to work. North of Salt Lake City, my route was to take Idaho Rt. 28 to Salmon, then north on U.S. Rt. 93. Rt.28 is a small minor highway that is lightly traveled. As I came around one curve, I saw hundreds of cattle crossing the road. There were Cowboys mounted on horses and even a brightly painted Chuck Wagon. One of the Cowboys told me to just ride slowly and keep revving the engine and the cows (Steers?) would move away from me and I could ride through. I did as he said and it worked beautifully and I continued on my way. The next day, I was in Priest Lake, Idaho and it was back to 12 hour days and 7 day weeks, and my life once more revolved around Helicopter Logging and continued to be an adventure. I’ll always remember riding through that cattle drive, though. | ||
| Pwnzor |
That's a great story. Thanks for sharing. | ||
| Tootal |
Motorcycle stories are rarely boring!  | ||
| Strokizator |
Heck Crusty, you still have a few more motorcycle stories left in you. If you ever make it out west again for a long ride, I've got plenty of spare time on my hands and would enjoy the company. You can move slowly through a herd of cows but buffalo are another story all together. | ||
| Two_seasons |
Hey Crusty, you and I have very similar life stories! I used to dirt bike around Priest Lake when I was a young lad. I've lived in 5 states and have been working since I was 12. At this point in my life, my memories of things past help me understand myself and the world around me today. Ah, for those simpler times again. Presently, Doris and I are raising two teenagers (I remarried) who are now both in the same high school. Life does get easier, sometimes only in our minds, if only we'll allow it to. | ||
| Malott442 |
I'm glad I took the 5 minutes to live vicariously through you. God forbid I ever get single again, I would need the same prescription. Great ride report, although a little delayed  | ||
| Nittanyxt |
Great memories, Crusty | ||
| Etennuly |
That made a good read. Life stories are the best. Thanks for sharing John.  | ||
| Elsinore74 |
Thanks for sharing the story. Reminds us all we'd do well to write down our memories whenever we get the chance. They're the only things that we really own in this life. Keep making new ones, too. Ride safe. | ||
| Fahren |
I hate the part about the stolen Guzzi. |
