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How I started motorcycling When I was 16 years-old (in 1980), the guy across the street had a 1970 Honda CB50. He couldn't get the clutch to work, so he sold it to me for $50. Despite splitting the case several times and going through any number of clutch plates, I never got it to work either. But I had a great time and spent more than a few hours trying to make it work. Once all of the pieces were in place, it sort of worked to get it into gear and to shift - you just had to turn off the engine in order to stop at intersections because trying to hold it for any length of time was nearly impossible. I was young and stupid and managed not to crash. I still don't know how. During the same timeframe, my step-dad (Beef - that's another story) was rebuilding a Honda CB750. He got it done and the bike ran, we thought nicely. When an otherwise learned individual showed up and asked us why it only running on two cylinders, we began to wonder. Once we figured out how to get the other two cylinders going, it ran beautifully. Having watched my trials and tribulations with the 50, he let me ride the 750. I will never forget getting on that bike for the first time filled with anticipation and just a little bit (ok, maybe a lot) of fear. I got on, revved the engine ever so slightly and promptly killed it. After restarting two or three times, I somehow managed to get the thing rolling and made it twice around the block. My most prominent memory of that experience was having a grin so wide that my ears hurt. There are but a few memories that make me so fondly recall any single event. I will never forget that first ride. Soon after that, money got tight, the 750 was sold, I grew weary of the 50 and my motorcycling experience was basically over. Fast forward 20 years to the year 2000. I was happily married, was responsible for seven kids, had taken and left five of six jobs, had one college degree in the bank and was hard at work on a master's degree. The marriages and the kids beg a bit of explaining. I was married for almost ten years and never had any children. My first wife and I divorced and about a year later, I married a woman with four kids (all boys). We had two more children (boys) and in 2001, we adopted a little girl from Haiti. I was (and at this writing still am) teaching at a technical college in Wisconsin. Parking is a real nightmare and it was not uncommon for me to have to walk several blocks on a daily basis. I fully realize that walking several blocks was probably a good idea. 250 pounds on a 160 pound frame looks and feels bad. At any rate, I generally arrived at school just in the nick of time for class - having to walk several blocks more often than not, made me late. I started seeing mopeds in the bike racks, and thought, "Why not?" As luck would have it, I looked in the paper, and shazzam - an ad for a Yamaha Razz (49 cc) scooter. I went, rode it, promptly wrote out a check for $400 and began to ride. The Razz was nice, but there were several limiting factors. First, I'm a big guy (see the frame reference above). I looked a little ridiculous riding the little scooter. Furthermore, the poor little thing only went 30 miles per hour. This would have been fine in town, but part of my commute included a four mile, 50 mile per hour stretch of highway. Fortunately, there was a nice wide shoulder so as trucks and cars blew by, I had plenty of room to be blown on to the shoulder while managing to stay out of the lake that flanked both sides of the highway. There were a few close calls and more than a few blasts of the horn in my general direction. Most importantly, the lack of speed frustrated me. I struggled because I was really sold on the scooter design, so I sort of started looking for a bigger one. A guy at work had a 1984 Honda 125 Aero scooter. I talked to my wife, her response was (and this has become conditioned), "What do you need another cycle for?" I've learned that to a person who has to ask that question, there is no rational answer. Anyway, she said sell the moped and you can get the bigger scooter. So I did - it took three days. In retrospect, that was one of the dumbest things I ever did. The Razz was cool. The 125 was better but it posed another issue. Legally, it was a motorcycle and I now needed a motorcycle license. I took the test, got the permit, waited and rode for two months, took the driving test and passed. Even though the 125 was bigger and faster, I still looked ridiculous. The 125 went 50 mph, but, it still wasn't fast enough for me. I thought about looking for a Honda Helix (250cc scooter capable of highway speeds), but they seemed hard to come by and were way beyond my price range. In addition, my wife was still very skeptical about this two-wheeled thing and no amount of convincing would have allowed me to spend the $3000 or $4000 necessary. So I began to think about a motorcycle. My step-dad died from cancer in 1999. It was a terrible blow for me and my mother. Fortunately, I saw him and talked with him the day before he died. I consider those two hours to be some of the most precious hours of my life. I digress . . . I looked at several different types of motorcycles and came to the realization that what I really wanted was a GoldWing. At that point, there was simply no way it was going to happen. It wasn't a terrible issue because I was reasonably content with the scooter and one of the things I have learned with seven kids is patience. One day I was talking to my mother about my plight and desire for a faster motorcycle. I knew that getting one was really out of the question because money was tight. My mother told me that Beef (my step-dad) had a motorcycle sitting in the shed, if I wanted it, come and get it. I asked her if it ran and she said that right before he got sick, they had dropped $500 getting it tuned up, carburetors rebuilt, etc. so it should run. I asked her what it was, and she said she knew it was a Honda, but that's all she knew. I said let me think about it My trepidation wasn't really because I was being picky, but she wanted to give it to me, and I wanted to pay her something for it. The next night, she called and had the title - all she could tell was that it was something like a '79 GL1000. I said. "Mom, that's a GoldWing. It's exactly what I wanted." I looked at NADA and it said about $1,000. She wouldn't take it. I paid a guy $200 to go fetch it from Chicago and within a week, I had a GoldWing in my garage. If you're following the progression, In the spring of 2000 (March), I went from a 50 cc. moped, to a 150 cc. scooter, to Goldwing (July), which is a progression that I would not recommend, but frankly, I had no choice. I bought a Clymer manual and gave it the once-over and all looked well. I charged the battery, hit the starter and it roared to life. I truly had no idea how to ride a motorcycle. I thought the shift pattern was something like two-up, three-down and frankly, I had no idea what that meant. It took a few rides around the block to figure out that it was one down and four up. There are a lot of things that I don't pretend to know about life. With every day that passes, I realize that I know less and less. There are a few things that I know for sure. There are several events in my life that marked a categorical change in my life. After each of these events, I knew that my life would never be the same.
For me one of the signs of coming of age is the idea that you know that your life is going to radically change before something happens. I've actually gotten fairly good at this. To be perfectly honest, the motorcycle was a complete surprise. When I rode that GoldWing for the first time, something changed, and somehow I knew that life would simply never be the same. I have no idea why something as simple as a motorcycle ride would change who I am, but it did. I also know that I'm not alone in this wonder. For nearly every person I meet on a motorcycle there is a similar story. Another nice thing about the GoldWing is that my step-dad was a very nice man who had a tremendous positive influence on my life. Make no mistake, my dad is a good guy too. Nearly every time I hop on that motorcycle, I remember Beef and it almost always brings a smile to my face. I knew nothing about riding and even though I had my motorcycle license, in the spring of 2001 took an MSF Basic Rider Course. I also circled Lake Huron with a group of folks from the Classic Wing Club - http://www.classicwingclub.org. I took an experienced rider course in 2002 and in 2003 became an MSF instructor. In 2004, I taught more than 30 Basic Rider Courses in Wisconsin and Minnesota. To the extent that I can control it, I wouldn't let anyone that I care about ride without taking a course. I have done a fair bit of maintenance of the GoldWing, changed the water pump, added an electronic ignition, changed a head gasket, rebuilt a master cylinder (the list goes on). Doing the maintenance on the bike has been helpful. I challenged myself in ways I had not before been challenged and accomplished things I did know I could do. The '79 GoldWing is a great bike and right now, I envision always having it. I could never get in dollars what it is worth to me in memories and functionality. Over time, I started to long for something more suited to long distances. I like the idea of riding across country and though the GoldWing has proven itself as a wonderful, reliable friend, it gets harder to ignore its age. My research led me to the Honda ST1100. For two years, I diligently looked for an ST that had what I wanted and could afford. They can be hard to find because they are sought after and they generally hold their value. In the spring of 2004, I found one that I desperately wanted and could afford. The best thing is that it's the best color Honda ever made the ST in, Candy Glory Red (which was important for selling my wife on the idea). My new (to me) ride is a 1992 Honda ST1100 - 40 amp alternator upgrade, heli-bars, PIAA light ready, MotoWorks performance shock, modulating headlight and heated grips already in place. As I write this (April 3, 2004), I am seriously looking forward to April 30 when I will hop the Greyhound to Chicago, take the CTA to Midway Airport and hop on a Southwest Airlines jet to Manchester, NH where Curt Hamilton will pick me up. He will take me to his house and I will hop on an ST1100 for the first time (ever) and begin a 1400 mile trip home. Since I started riding, my wife has gotten on-board with the idea. I don't think she necessarily did it willingly. She has called my mother and "thanked" her for the motorcycle. She made me up my life insurance policy, but I needed to do that anyway. She has even started to ride with me and that makes it even more sweet. She let me buy other motorcycles - a 1980 Kawasaki KZ440, and a 1976 Suzuki GS360. I keep looking for that perfect small bike for the boys. She will never understand my passion for motorcycling and that's OK. She's learned to accept it and tolerate it and support it, which in a way is a microcosm of what marriage is all about. I love her and appreciate her for that. She has even agreed to take the Basic Rider Course this summer, provided she can sleep with the teacher. I think I can arrange that. |