SEE IT Think about curves. Follow the fairing as it flows dramatically into the arc of a saddle. Now, think about lines. Like the detailed sculpting of a rounded front fender. Look closer. And see a sportbike that's open to the world, not encased in plastic. With an air-cooled, 45 degree, V-Twin that's always in plain site. We saw a philosophy. Form shadowing function, pure and simple. We also saw a winding stretch of Blue Ridge Parkway. With your name on it.
This is the motorcycle that did it for me. THIS one.
My spanky-new copy of Cycle World showed up, some two decades ago now, and on the inside front cover was this:
This exact same photograph, full-page, with some words (which I eventually got around to reading). THIS photo, of THIS motorcycle, took my breath away.
This is, in my opinion, the greatest motorcycle photograph of all time (yeah, OK, the photo of Rollie Free at Bonneville is pretty cool), and the power it had over me was insane!
Not long after, during a three-day road trip with some friends from Washington to SoCal, I happened to look up a side street of a small town we were driving through and there it was! "Dudes! Dudes! Didya see it?!? DUDES!!!"
They didn't; the bike was but a glimpse, and I was the only one who saw it. It was virtually the identical view as the S2 in Cycle World, and I only saw it for a second.
And that, as they say, sealed my deal.
I owned a '96 Buell S2 Thunderbolt, in Ice White Pearl, of course, for over 70,000 miles, and it's no exaggeration to say that motorcycle changed my life. I called her the BLURR; my young daughter more or less came up with the name, and it stuck. I LOVED that motorcycle.
Alas, it's long gone, but some day I'll have another. It won't be the same, but it'll be just as good. Maybe even better.
Some day...
In the meantime: This brochure is the Holy Grail. Yeah, the "Pray for Pavement" brochure is pretty peachy, but this one is the Big Frikkin' Dog.
This thing is mint - amazing, considering it's been bouncing around for twenty years - and will knock your knickers off.
Large-format, 12" x 12", opens to 24" x 12", and the last section is a tri-fold that opens up to a whopping three feet wide. Rich, lustrous, nearly-card stock-thick paper, and that photography!
It's time to pay this deal forward, people. Glitch and Ann need our help. I'd like to see this brochure go to a good home.
No, make that a GREAT home. It's that important to me.
Y'all rawk.
Auction ends Friday 11/21/2014 at 11 p.m. Eastern. I'll get it to your door.
I'd offering $20 for a handwritten copy of your lead in.
Cool, done!
Also . . and I am not sure if there are rules that would impact this . . . but is it possible for me to sell Chris?
It'd be a quick way to raise a few bucks . . . we could start the bidding at $15 without his bikes and $100,000 with his nearly 20 bikes?
I dunno, $15 without his bikes seems kinda high (although I'm not discounting the value of him being a good cook AND knowing how to back up a trailer...), but I think a hundred G's for him and his fleet sounds pretty damn reasonable!
Thanks for the bid, and for the giggles. I'll get your note to you after the auction winds down.
Wayle, I've been paid for writing sheet before, but I've NEVER had people fighting over it!
Up the bid and I'll tell the tale about my first (and second) ride with Erik Buell. There we were, scraping knees and elbows down some dusty little paved goat-trail above Los Gatos at about mach eleventy, Reg Kittrelle from Thunder Press/Battle 2win in the lead (he was the only one who knew where we were!), Erik in slot two, Court tucked tight right behind him, and yours truly wiping up the rear, all of us nose-to-butthole like a pack of feral neighborhood dogs (you know, the ones that come through en masse and crap all over your yard), and poor Jeremy Ricker, well, by this time common sense had reared its ugly head (Jeremy was our designated adult this weekend) and he was about two miles behind us, more than a little pissed off, slogging along in second and third gear because that's all the "road" really deserved, expecting any second to come around a corner and see four sweaty, horny Buells piled on top of each other in a steaming, mangled mess of machismo, testosterone and bragging rights.
One of my favorites quotes of all time: I had just introduced Dave Barr to a bunch of my riding buddies. I had hyped-up Dave like there's no tomorrow, pretty much implying that he can ride on water (which may actually be true), and all my buds were basically agog.
Dave, class act that he is, squinted his eyes, flashed his trademark impish grin, and said, "If bullshit was music, I'd have myself a brass band!"
Alex ....... I just priced human kidneys. Suggest you keep the 14 bikes and part Chris out You'll come out ahead and not have to listen to him whine about bridge tolls.
S. If u win me you better have either a big garage OR a big dining room, and live someplace WARM!!!
I'm a pretty damn good cook (as is my wife), Heather says I need to build a shop for all of my crap and the weather isn't bad...
So: 1. You won't starve- Check 2. We can combine our skills to build the shop (a freebie since #1 covers your demand already).- Free check 3. I checked the weather and it's reasonably warmer here in NC than NYC- Check
$45 for the ad and I'll kick in whatever the bridge toll is for you to head South and start building the shop. Do you like your steaks medium rare and is Yuengling ok?
Also- Court will insist we finish the work for the day before we get too deep into the beer.
1) Imported beer only. 2) Medium rare is cool with me, but only "PRIME ANGUS" not that choice stuff. 3) Prevailing Union wages for construction is all I am allowed to work for, so since you are in a right to work state that may be a little sticky (( 4) I have been in NC in the cooler months, "Frost delays" at tee time is WINTER in my book!!! 5) IF you plan on parting me out... I only have one kidney, and after high school... Well u get the picture )) 6) And the most important. $55 for the ad
So we all end up, finally, panting like dogs, in Scotts Valley, which was (still is?) the home of Battle 2win and ThunderPress, and there are about 30 sportbikes waiting for us in a gas station parking lot; turns out Reg had advertised in advance that Erik was coming to town, and if ya want to ride with The Man, get yer asses geared up and let's go!
A couple things to keep in mind: I'd had my S2 Thunderbolt for all of two months, it was my first-ever sportbike, and I'd never done a group ride before. Yeah, I've ridden since I was a kid, been most everywhere on most everything, but I was entering hostile new territory.
Everybody's buzzed, of course, Erik's pumping hands and signing autographs, then off we go! Reg is still in the lead, Court's now in slot 2, I'm on top of them like stink on poop, and DANG! I got Erik right on my ass in slot 4!!
It took us a few minutes to get out of town and back into the Redwoods, and in pretty short order we are absolutely flying, everybody doing the nose-to-butthole thing again. Remember Star Wars? Remember the scene where they flew them contraptions through the trees? It was kinda like that...only faster.
Man, my heart was in my throat, and that's the honest truth. I'd never ridden so fast - and bunched up! - with other bikes before, and to have Erik pushing me, well, I felt like I was injecting adrenaline straight into my veins.
Hold your line, sucker! That's all I could think of. No mistakes, and hold your frikkin' line!
I knew we were in a big pack and that Erik was getting pushed, too, but there was no time to scan mirrors. In fact, nobody needed mirrors at this point: All the important stuff is going on about two feet in front of you, at Mach 9, and what's happening out back really doesn't matter.
I'm focused, I'm really, really focused. I've got just two bikes in front of me - Reg and Court - and I'm doing what they're doing, and holding my frikkin' line. I know Erik is right on my butt - I can sense him. We are cooking with fire.
And then there he is! I can just see his front wheel in my peripheral vision. He has inched up on my right, almost even with me now, pretty much handlebar to handlebar. ' A, dude, don't you see I'm busy here? Dang!!
Man, I'm glued in tight now. I got no time to worry about Erik, just hit your marks and hold your line, sucker. No mistakes. NO MISTAKES!
And then I feel something on my right hand!
WTF?!?
I stole a glance to the right and FRAK! - it's Erik, reaching over with his left hand and tapping me on the top of my throttle hand! WHAT! THE!
I was absolutely blown away by this. We're hammering through the trees, I'm in the ride of my life, and Erik Frikkin' Buell wants to hold my frikkin' hand? Unbelievable!!
We finally, after what seemed like fifteen hours of adrenaline rush, pull over at some little wide spot, everyone laughing and scratching and yukking it up. It's safe to assume that I was the only sportbike virgin in the bunch, and my proverbial cherry had just been stomped into a whimpering pile of pulp.
Erik pretty much wasn't saying a word. He had his hands in his pockets, looking mostly down at the ground, impish grin on his face, doing his best to look innocent.
"Dude!" I exclaimed. "I cannot believe, in the middle of all THAT, that you're reaching over and tapping the back of my hand! Good gawd, man are you out of your mind?!?" Yeah, I was smiling.
Erik looked like he'd just been caught raiding the cookie jar, and then busted a gut and said, "Ferris, I was trying to hit your kill switch!!"
Gobsmacked, I was. And then I started to laugh, and so did Erik, and so did Reg and Court, and so did we all, basking in the warm California sun somewhere up in the Redwoods, out in the middle of nowhere, just a group of guys and gals living large and gettin' it on 'em, not a care in the world except where are we riding to next?
These cheap bastards don't want to pay me for sitting home on my ass hungover for 2days next week. Can u believe that!! WTF is wrong with that picture??
It was really fun to see you and Erik reconnect during the FBRAT tour. Lunch was a blast, the start of the tour I was about as hungover as Chris will be... Whoops. Fashionably late and stinkin of beer. I've heard that story more than once (and gets better with moonshine), and the only time I've ever ridden with Erik was with a brand spankin new, probably serial number 001 1125R and I was just as giddy.
Please PayPal Kristi with your winning bid amount at ulywife (at) gmail (dot) com and please also include a note with your payment with the auction #, description of item, your screen name here on BWB, your real name, and your mailing address (which should match what PayPal shows). Please also send Kristi an e-mail, at the same addy as above, with the same information. In other words, make it easy for Kristi! Thank you!!