Motorcycles rule.

When I was about 9 I was first captivated by the motorcycle. I remember the moment vividly: It was 1984 and I was riding in the back seat of my folks car on North-bound 101 just outside of San Francisco, heading through Marin. I looked over to the slow lane and there was this scruffy 1970-something Japanese motorcycle of an unappealing shape and color buzzing past our car. The rider looked like a haggard bum and his bike looked worse. I think there was a milk crate strapped to the back. I remember being confused at the thing. Why would someone have to ride something like that? Then it hit me. I fixed on the 4 cylinder engine and long chrome tubular exhaust artfully arcing away from the cylinder head and gracefully turning backwards, gradually up turning and flaring out towards the end. That engine...wow,right there...exposed...that machine wow...within a window of about 10 seconds it rode into my brain and rode on past, but the memory is burned permanently. I stared until the motorcycle was gone. And that was it. I yearned for a motorcycle of my own. I seized upon the opportunity two years later during a moment of parental weakness.

I found a 75cc Suzuki dirt bike for sale in the local paper and somehow conned my mom into taking me to see it. I had been saving up paper-route money for some time and had about the asking price of $250. We went to see the motorcycle and I looked the little yellow thing over as if I knew what I was looking at. The man selling it had rehabbed it and was just looking to offload. I didn't even know how to use the clutch and I didn't have the concept of shifting. He kick started it and I got on. With a quickened pulse I stepped down on the shifter and the bike lurched and died. The man quietly said I had to use the clutch, and I, not wanting to let on to mom that I didn't know what the heck I was doing, replied, "oh, yeah." I used the clutch. I scooted away, no more than 100 yards. Figuring I'd gone far enough to make a good show of it, I turned the bike and rode back and stopped and shut it off. I bought the bike.

I don't know how I managed to ride the short circle, but it happened. That was the last time I was able to ride the bike for about two weeks as from that point on for a short while I could not move the bike without stalling it. Well at some point I got the hang of it and loved every minute. One of my pals in Junior High School also had a motorcycle and lived on a Dairy ranch just outside of Petaluma with many thousands of acres. I stored my motorcycle out there and on occasional sleep over weekends we'd go riding through the pastures, up the trails and over mountains. It was a blast.....

                                         
Here I am doing the superman (before there was a name for it) on my 75cc Suzuki when I was about 13. I lived to ride this thing. All day every day.


By the time I turned 15 and a half, I'd spent countless hours honing my riding skills on the dirt. When I got my car driver learners permit, I also got my motorcycle learners permit. That was the end of dirt bikes and the beginning of road bikes. My first road bike was a dead 1975 Honda CB360t that I scored for $200. The fuel in the tank and carbs had long since crystallized, the battery was dead, it had rusty chrome, broken signal lenses, a torn seat and a dented tank, but it was so full of promise. My dad (obviously not wanting me around anymore) eagerly helped me rebuild the carbs and make her run.

I crashed a time or two and suffered some road rash, but nothing too terrible. I still wear some of those early souvenirs on my knees and legs. I have since added a few more wearable memories to the collection. After high school, that CB360t eventually gave way to a 1982 Yamaha Vision 550, which gave way to a 1982 Honda Nighthawk 750 that I rode for quite a while. I had a brief hiatus from motorcycles in my early 20's but eased back in with a cheap, small displacement Honda Interceptor. The passion was reignited and I then bought an 1100cc BMW, replaced it with a 1200cc Buell, which lasted four years before getting destroyed by getting t-boned by a car. I nursed a broken back for 6 months after that and started riding a cheap Yamaha V-star while I was getting back on my feet. The V-star shortly gave way to a 1990 Harley Davidson Heritage Softail back in 2009 and that's what I've been riding since.

 1975 Honda CB360t. Tank is off for cleaning and Kreem coating (which held up well).

 Good colors, but back then to my eye it was just not a very cool bike in an era when 600 Ninjas and CBR's were beginning to show up everywhere.

 Pretty sure I didn't have my permit yet here, but I was riding it around the country roads in my neighborhood.

 I altered the paint and body now and then. Here's just one example. I couldn't leave anything alone.
                                     

The 1982 Yamaha Vision 550 was a beautiful and far more advanced bike than the 360. It only lasted about three months before the oil pump went and seized the engine. I gave it away. I resented Yamaha's for a long while after that.

 I rode this bike for years. I bought this 1982 Honda Nighthawk 750 at 21k miles. The odometer broke at 54k miles and I rode it for another year. The power and handling eclipsed all other bikes I had ridden before. It's a dinosaur. Note 4 into 4 exhaust.

 After a tree fell on it, I had to repair and replace some parts. I painted it this lovely metallic light blue. Note the 4 into 1 exhaust. It sounded like an indy car after that upgrade.

 Then I painted it black. I frequently wheelied and jumped this heavy bike and one day the muffler broke off. I kept riding as I didn't want to look back. It then sounded like a top-fuel funny car. I eventually got a replacement muffler. (this photo taken in the largely abandoned upper parking lot at my school dorm in Hayward, Ca.)
                                     

I almost forgot about this suicide ride. I picked this up not running for a few hundred bucks. I bought a donor Honda 750 Super Sport and swapped in the engine. This was a 1971 custom chopper. The frame was molded, everything was hand pin-striped. It was a time machine for sure. Check out the groovy coffin tank! It hauled you-know-what, but didn't handle well or stop well. I sold it quickly to avoid being killed by it. What an awesome original bike, though. I had it in around 1999.

 Here's my bargain buy 250 Interceptor. Fun. Cheap. that's about all I can say about it.

                                                 

          Here's the lone surviving picture of my 2000 BMW R1100R. The bike was fuel-injected and had a state-of-the art suspension design and superior braking. It had plenty of power too.I felt like superman riding this work of art. Cons: It would routinely stall at terrible times, like when splitting lanes; Important parts loosened up and fell off; The drive shaft was slowly tearing itself apart. I suffered it for two years and couldn't wait to get rid of it.

     

 After enjoying the endless, effortless torque from a big twin, I couldn't go back to 4 cylinders. Here's my 2002 Buell Cyclone that met an unfortunate death-by-Kia. Fortunately I survived the Kia. More on this Buell in the future.

 Here was my therapy bike. A 1999 Yamaha V-star that a friend had sitting in his side yard and sold cheap. There will be more on this bike in the future.

And finally my 1990 Harley Davidson, which has been a faithful companion for countless miles (no odometer) and has taken me to Oregon and back several times, to Nevada, and everywhere in between since 2009. More on this bike in the future.