| Author | Message | ||
     Crusty |
The other night, I was watching the Movie Dave. There’s one scene where Dave asks the Vice President, “Do you ever think about how you got started?” That got me thinking about how I got started riding motorcycles. In the Spring of 1969, I was restless. I was 18 and had a job making decent money, but I was bored and wanted to experience Life. So, one day at Lunch, I decided I’d had enough, and I left my job, went home and packed my clothes into a Surplus backpack and stuck out my thumb. I hitchhiked to Albuquerque, New Mexico where I (barely) knew someone. Fortunately, he was a pretty decent guy and put me up and introduced me to his friends. We were all fairly similar, and it took almost no time before I was accepted. A couple of the group had motorcycles, and one day when I needed to get something at the store, Kerry said, “Take my bike”. I had to admit that I didn’t know how to ride, so Janie offered to teach me. She had a Honda 90, and everyone agreed that it would be a good bike to learn on. So, the next evening, found me and Janie on a side street while she patiently instructed me on what to do, and I got to practice a bit. We did the same thing the next couple of nights, and I started getting a little confidence. The following day, she left to go to a Music Festival in Denver, and she left the bike with me so I’d have some transportation, and I could get more practice while she was gone. That was a Thursday. I rode the bike a bit on Thursday and Friday during the day, and I was really getting into it. Friday night was the real breakthrough, though. We had run into Adrian, an old girlfriend of Zyke’s who was with a couple of her friends. She had some Speed and offered us all some, and we all accepted. One of her friends confided in me that they were worried about her, ‘cause she’d been up for a couple of days, and if we all took some, Adrian would run out sooner and would get some sleep. Anyhow, we all decided to go over to Kerry’s place and listen to music and hang out. However, once we got there, I was feeling the speed, and couldn’t sit still, so I asked if anyone wanted to go for a ride with me. One of the girls did, so we jumped on the bike and I rode around the perimeter of the city, just enjoying the ride. We got back around an hour or so later. I washed my hands, smoked a cigarette then asked if anyone else wanted to go for a ride. I did that all night. I absolutely fell in love with riding. Now, Janie had owned the bike for about 6 months, and had put 1400 miles on it. When she got back from Denver on Monday, the odometer read over 1900 miles. She was a bit upset, and never let me ride her bike again. However, the seed had been planted. Other people in the group let me ride their bikes, though, and I still remember how fast Kerry’s Honda 350 felt, the first time I rode it. I left Albuquerque in early August and came back to Massachusetts. When I got back, I had one thought foremost in my mind. I was going to get a Motorcycle. It took me a little while, but in mid October, I was the proud owner of a 1968 BSA Lightning 650. My life long passion was firmly established. I’ve owned more motorcycles than I can remember since that time, but I still remember that little Honda CL 90 fondly, and I still feel indebted to Janie for the magnificent gift she gave me. | ||
| Buellish |
That's a great story John.I had a 1971 BSA 650 Thunderbolt,but it wasn't my first bike.My first was a 1966 Honda P50 that I had to share with my brother.We had to take turns and were always jealous of each others time on it.We didn't have a clue when it came to maintenance and ran the poor little P50 out of oil. My brother quickly lost interest but the seed was planted in me and like you I've had a lot of bikes over the years.I remember those early years of tearing around the hills and backroads of Rome,GA,thinking I could go anywhere and do anything on my bike.And now I can't imagine life without two wheels. | ||
| Pwnzor |
I bought my first bike, a 1976 Honda CB750F1 when I was 15 years old... secretly. Paid cash, never registered it, hid it from my parents. One night after parking it in the back of my neighborhood, the nosy neighbor lady saw me walking from around the corner and asked my dad the next day, "where could Matthew possibly be walking from at that hour of the night?" Dad drove around the block, saw the strange bike sitting there with expired tags, and asked the neighbors about it... of course nobody knew who it belonged to. Two plus two is always four, and the next evening my dad asked me to tell him about my motorcycle. Of course I lied about it, and he informed me I had 30 minutes to remove all my belongings from the house into the driveway. He went on to explain that I had until 5:30pm the following day to get it all out of the driveway, he cared not where to. I've been riding ever since. I have never been without some type of motorcycle since age 15. | ||
| Hootowl |
English class. 2nd grade. There was a picture of a motorcycle in one of the books. I was enthralled. I spent the rest of the day riding that bike all over creation. | ||
| Teeps |
From a young age I was interested in engines of any type. Watched my dad work on his truck; and uncle work on lawn mower & other small utility engines. A couple of my uncles rode motorcycles for transportation (1950s), and took me for a ride, I was 8 or 9. That's all it took. The Indian and Harley of my uncles were too big for me to ride. And, my mom told them do not let him ride that bike alone... which I couldn't even if my life depended on it, but she didn't know. I was 12 before I got my first solo ride, it was on a black Honda C110 Super Cub. Complete with 4 speed trans & manual clutch, a neighbor's bike. Since that day in 1963 I've owned over 35 motorcycles and have ridden hundreds of mostly UJMs & dirt bikes (worker a motorcycle dealer for 12 years.) | ||
| Zane |
When I was about 5 years old, my older brother had a friend named Donnie. He was in his late teens and had an old Harley he rode around town. I was too young to know what model, just that it and Donnie were cool. Anyway, he picked me up and sat me on the tank and rode around the neighorhood. I was hooked. When I was about 13 or 14 I had saved enough money to buy a small dirt bike but my parents shut that idea down right then and there. At 21 I started to date a girl that was deathly afraid of motorcycles. So when I said I was going to get one she said "Oh no you're not". Later on, that girl became my wife and it changed to "Oh HELL no, you're not getting a motorcycle." Fast forward to 2008. I woke up one day and was 53 years old, both my parents had passed away and I was in the middle of divorcing that girl who became my wife. There was finally no one to tell me no. Within a month I had taken the MSF course and purchased a Buell Blast. I even rode the bike to a divorce hearing just to p*ss her off. I'll ride as long as I can. | ||
| Brumbear |
Evel, I was about 7 and I watched https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ymUB1vQ_vLU There was NO LOOKING BACK. | ||
| Patches |
Born in a bath of 20w-50. The rest is history. | ||
| Malott442 |
I might have been made on a mid 70's chopper. Parents rode Harley's and smoked prodigious amounts of weed. They, in turn, waited until I was 11 to buy me my first motorized vehicle. A 3 wheeler. 1984 atc 110. Rewind to when I was 7. Mini trail 50. My dad's coworker had one for his sons. I rode that sucker into the first tree trunk I could find. I wanted to ride more but they wouldn't let me. Next bike was a 1983 Suzuki ds 80. I only rode it 200 yards. It scared and exhilarated me, but the owners were 3 little a@@hole Panamanian kids that taught me how to take a beat down, that life ain't fair, and how to fight 3 people at once. Letting me ride their bike was less important than taking out the stress of their broken home on my face. The 'spark' bike was a Honda xr100. Riding the cow pastures all day long in Conway Arkansas, unbeknownst to my cousin, the owner. I knew that day I would never go without as long as I had any say. I've owned (in order(ish), only including street legal) cb200, 77 superglide, 72 sportster, 86 sportster, 84 xr350r, 2000 x1, 2002 Daytona, 2000 x1, virago 250, klx400, super hawk, s1w, 636, Daytona, f4i, r1200st, r1100rt, r1150r, r1100gs, xb12ss, 1125r, xb12x, te610, dr350, dr350se, 07 zx6r, xb12s, rd350, ts100, k7, cb100, nx250, Electra glide, x1 again, k1200rs. There are some repeats, which meant those bikes kept getting put back in the garage after missing them a while. I've had 2 Daytonas and 3 x1's. My favorite 2 bikes of all time: x1 and r1200st. Well, in truth, it was the 1125r. But I was either going to die or go to jail on that machine. Last time I counted I was at 34 bikes in 33 years on earth. Not a bad run so far I'm sure I'm forgetting a few, but needless to say, I'm like a woman in a shoe store. I'm gonna try em all on before I leave this place. | ||
| Glitch |
1973 I was 10, we got a Honda Mini Trail for Christmas. There were 4 of us, 2 cousins, my sister and myself. It was kept at my Grandmama's place. It was awesome when we'd go up by ourselves, but most of the time if any of us were there, we were all there. I believe there was more fighting over riding than riding going on. But I think it was that wanting to be next, or that knowing the cousins weren't coming this time, created a real thirst for riding. | ||
| Dwardo |
I was always a motorhead. Got it from my father and my uncle. My dad had a 1929 Henderson before he left for WW2 and he would always tell me about it. When he was mustered out in San Francisco, he bought a motorcycle and rode it back to Maryland. He said it was British but he couldn't remember what it was (I find it amazing that he couldn't remember that). When I was a kid, a neighbor had an Allstate (Daimler Puch "twingle") and gave me a ride. That's all it took. I was in love. About the same time, I was at shopping with my grandma and saw a BSA parked on the curb. I was smitten. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I started drawing pictures of it from memory and from then on all I could think about was motorcycles. Then a few years later my dad got a Bridgestone 175, which is what I learned to ride on. Like to have that one still. We beat it to death riding it like a dirt bike at the local quarry. Later, he got a Honda 450, which seemed enormous to me but I rode it more than he did. He hit a Buick head on with it after jumping a 3-foot median but survived and bought another 450. I was riding that when my buddy got hold of his brother's BSA 650. It was horribly unreliable but it looked, sounded, and seemed like a "real" motorcycle. The Honda was just about as fast but it just seemed like there was something missing. Shortly later, I bought a new Norton Commando and never looked back. I bought a second one and rebuilt it completely. For 33 years I rode nothing but Nortons and then I found my Cyclone. It was like a Norton on steroids and had this thing called an electric starter. Then I bought a Road King to ride to Sturgis, figuring I would sell it when I got back. Well, it grew on me and now it's my go-to bike. I'm embarrassed to say when was the last time I rode eithe the Buell or the Norton. Gotta fix that. |
