Boredom Born Bikeography

I was born in Minnesota where my first bike was a 49cc ArticCat. It was gold and had a leopard print seat. I was six, it was from the 60's. I remember playing with the carb, my brother is there, then fire.

My next bike was a 3-speed 49cc Honda MiniTrail. I loved that thing to death. I completely submerged it jumping a cow pond, it ain't easy draggin a motorcycle out of a cow pond. It ran a month later. I rode that bike for 4 years. It had no lights or fenders when I got my Yamaha 125.

The Yamaha 125cc was a 70's classic, metalic purple with a black pinstriped white stripe. I stripped the missmatched fenders and painted them white. I learned as my brother did misc. repairs. He had a '74 Yamaha 360 with a 14" sprocket. That's good for one thing, Chadwick MO. We went to Chadwick 2 or 3 times a month. He'd treat me to Pizza Hut in Ozark on the way back. The Yamaha was a good runner, til I flipped it trying to race a kid from school. I suddenly understood why a monoshock is such a big deal as I landed hard and watched the bike comming down on me. A cracked helmet and a swollen arm tought me my limitations. A lesson I think of evertime I fuck stuff up.

If you know my dad, you'll understand why he bought me a Ossa 250cc Stelleto next. My dad has a strange logic. There I was on a amazing '70's machine. Fiberglass tank, long forks, solo saddle, number plates, the Ossa was a real screamer. White tank with a gold pinstriped red racing stripe that went from head to toe. It was a realy awesome machine. Dad bought a second one from a guy in KC. I think it was called a Panzer, it had a longer seat and a strange tool kit on the top of the rear fender. I remember they had the weirdest carb I'd seen up to that point in my life, it had two needles instead of one. The shorter one would fall out of the jet and lock the slide wide open. When you push started one of these things you got hot and tired. Then when your about to give up, BAM that thing farts, fires and your flying. I learned the lesson of a functioning kill switch this way. Drum brakes don't stop you, they might slow you down. Cheers to the spanish Ossa.

Both Ossa motors finally gave up and I downsized, 1/2 sized, to a beautiful shinny stainless steel Hodaka Combat Wambat 125cc. This thing was hot. It had stainless steel tank and fenders with a cahki air filter labeled Combat Wambat. I remember it's fork protectors had a pair of ladies legs with a garder on, they were braned garder. It's beauty made the downsize ok, and a light managable bike helped my riding style. The tank had a chest to it, and then narrowed for your knee's. My brother moved out of the house and the dirt bikes werent used much any more. I'd fire them up and tool around, but I was 15 and couldn't haul them to Chadwick by my self. They're all gone now, dad sold the Ossa's, Yamaha 360 and Hodaka to a guy who has a nice vintage dirtbike collection now.

I was 15 and had to get a road bike. I'd been riding on '60's Honda Dreams and Yamaha RD 250 two strokes for a while. Dad bought a Honda 305 Street Scrambler for me. It was a good bike, looked like a Triumph, I probably should have stopped there. Bikes were just kinda showing up at our house. At one time we had 18 motorcycles including 1978 Ducati 900 GTS, 1970 Honda 750, 1972 BMW 750 (touring/trailer), 2 Honda Dreams (63 & 68), 68 Street Scrambler, 2 Yamaha RD 250's, a RD 360, the 3 Ossa's (one in a basket)... So mom wanted to put an end to that.

Dad and I went to check out a 1978 Yamaha 750 Special. It was shaft drive and had disk brakes. Mom told me not to let dad buy another motorcycle. I'm 15 and all's I think about are motorcycles, chicks and music. Dad was going to buy it if I didn't, so I bought my first big bike at 15. Dad put a fairing on it, which he did to all his bikes. I swear the bar mounted fucker cought the wind and pushed me off the road. Lying there in a ditch looking up at a rock and barbed wire fence I swore against the fairing and have not ridden with one since. That's been many many motorcycle miles ago.

Not thrilled with the look of the Yamaha I purchased my first vintage bike before I turned 16. I had lots of old bikes, all my bikes were old, but this one was unmistakadly vintage. A 1953 BMW R51/3. It had matching number, no fenders, ape hangers and a king queen cobra seat. Dad was cool enough to drive me to Ohio to get it. I had been mowing lawns and working in a butcher shop dreaming of a awesome vintage motorcycle, now I had one. It wasn't a Black Shadow, but it was (and is) a cool, fun bike with a jockey shift. I drove this bike all over and all the time. The Highschool security guard was suddenly my friend, turns out he had a Beemer too, and I could park my ride upfront with the bicycles. I met lot's of cool people on this bike and realy started to see what the motorcycle community was all about. I won youngest rider and oldest motorcycle at several ralley's. That was cool, the bike was cool and suddenly I felt cool. Shit I was in highschool, had a Ranchero and 2 motorcycles. And teenage chicks hold on to you realy tight when you take off on a motorcycle. Those days started a long path of good times.

The beemer grew tired and it wasn't much for speed which I suddenly desired. Dad's 78 Ducati 900 was the cure. I put many miles on this bike from the age of 18 to 30. I rode it to Big Bend TX, my brother by my side on his new Harley. I'd liked Harleys before, but once you ride one, you realy see what they are all about. I love big air cooled twins. A Harley is a fine example of that. The Ducati is also a superior example of that. Shaft driven desmo heads that force the valves open and close so you get no float. The bike was realy cool and sounded like a banchee. It was also realy heavy and tall. When you were standing still you felt all it's weight and then some, but once you were over 20mph it became light, nimble and a scream to drive. Lot's more to come about this bike, let me say here that I used it to take my wife to see the fireworks on Friday nights at Coney Island, NY.

The Duck died on the BQE after taking in the Coney Island Friday Night Fireworks. It was dark and on a elevated 6 lane express way. I swapped out fuses, but as soon as my girlfriend (now wife) sat on it it would die. I was in NYC and had no place to keep it, so I sold it off to Rene in Canada who did a super job at converting it into a 70's racer for his wife. The thing I miss most about this bike was those big Dellorto carbs. I'd like to get a pair just to put on my shop wall. They were used in lots of bikes including Harley XR750's and XR1000's.

So I went to buy my first new bike, and it had to be a Harley. I bought ordered a 1999 Harley Softail Springer. In '99 the softails came with the twincam, but not the twin cam balanaced. I loved this bike and knew I'd always have a Harley Vtwin from there on out. The Springer rode awesome. Took bumpy New York roads well at speed. I would not hesitate to own anotherone. It was New York and it was stolen.

I could either go up or down, but I couldn't just get another Harley right away. I went to the NYC International Motorcycle Show a few months after my Springer was stolen. I had been researching bikes and dreamed of a Confederate. The first american custom motorcycle company to offer a right side drive. I went and met Matt Chambers. The early Confederates fit a big guy great. The 200 series tire was enormouse at the time. The biggest motorcycle tire at the time was a 240 series my Metzler, I saw a CSA with one, it was too big for my taste. Matt and I struck a deal on a bike I hadn't even seen. It was being tested in a magazine and was loaded. Dual ISR 6 calliper brakes, VDO and AutoMeter gauges, 113ci S&S engine. I put up some cash and waited...and waited... I went to Ducati NYC where it was to be delivered and talked to them. Patients I had to have patients. They called and said the bike was at a sister shop in Jersey and it could be in NYC tonight. I hawled my ass over and waited...and waited... These Ducati's are nice. Check these new 4 caliper Brembo's. Look at all the carbon you can get for the Monsters. Maybe I should have, there's the truck. I just happened to know the driver from climbing. "Wait til you see what I got inside." "I can't wait you mother fucker", I thought. He opened the back and shashing there was the fattest bike I had ever seen in my life. Confederate gray with yellow Marchesini wheels. My friend backed it out and a crowd started to form on 10th Ave. It takes one hell of a machine to draw a crowd in NYC and my new ride was doing it. I knew I had something special there. It was around 9pm and the lights were reflecting off it, it was incredible. My friend turned to the manager and asked if the owner was here, he hadn't realized the special delivery was for me. The shop was closing as they wanted to know if they should keep it over night. I had to ride it NOW! I'd ride it all night if I had too, I HAD TO RIDE IT NOW! I had never ridden a bike with over 100hp before, it's afuckingmazing. It fired up and the crowd hopped back startled. Ohfuckingshit this thing is the fucking bomb. I rode it around for several hours and managed to store it at Extreme Machines. Lumpy hooked me up.

What can I say, I realy like motorcycles, particularly air cooled twins. So I made this frickin page one night.