Beej's first ride

My first Motorcycle was a brand new Harley-Davidson With  beautiful deep blue lacquer paint and awesome orange flames .... no ... wait a minute, .... that was someone else's bike. Oh yea, that's right, my first motorcycle was a 1965 or so Yamaha  60. With dirty blue paint, a cracked tail light and these goofy rubber "knee grips" covering half the tank!

Of course, at the time, I didn't care. It was a motorcycle! I was 16 and needed my own transportation to school and a new found job. I don't really recall the line of reasoning I took to talk my mother into allowing me to buy a motorcycle as my sole transportation. Something to do with economics and a persistent promise to be careful. I do recall riding it home in front of the car mom was driving, at 5 mph under the speed limit and displaying my exaggerated hand signals proudly with sharp 90 degree angles. With mom assured of my riding skills and being convinced I really am being careful, I was off!

I recall that first ride on the streets as being the most exhilarating feeling to that point in my life. I could go anywhere I wanted! Or at least I felt like I could. I had barely enough horsepower to meet the 15 BHP minimum requirement to get onto the freeways in California so what could stop me. Fuel was less than 25 cents a gallon, the beach was 60 miles away and the mountains 30. I did quite a bit of traveling on that little motorcycle.

It didn't take me long to begin customizing my bike. Of course being new to the game, I had my failures. I needed a new front tire. I went out and purchased a big ol' "knobby". I wanted to be able to take it off road and I thought that's what I needed. I soon found out, it now rubbed on the fender. So I took the fender off. I ran through a mud puddle a few days later and realized what fenders were for. I cut the shit out of the fender, attached it to the bottom of the triple tree and it hung in there for quite sometime. 

I have vivid memories of myself and cousin Mike riding home from school in a heavy rain. Soaked by the time we got there. And learning about what was the best cold weather gear was an adventure in trial and error. I began to crave the heat coming off the engine and that sweet smell of burning Castrol 2 stroke oil.

I came out one morning and found someone had stolen my bike. The shock was devastating and panic set in when I realized this was my only ride! It was recovered by the end of the day and other than the handle bars and the forks a bit tweaked, it was at least intact and still rideable. Quite honestly, I don't recall what happened to that Yamaha, I don't even know if I have a picture of it. I'll check out mom's picture box and if I find one I'll post it. But with a better job and experience behind me I moved onto a series of Yamaha Enduros and Honda Elsinores, before finally wanting more of a real street bike and eventually, that first Harley. But I will always recall with fondness, that first motorcycle and the feeling of complete freedom.

Remember your first motorcycle? Share your experience and pictures with us. E-mail your story and pics to beej@rumblenews.com. We'll post them on the new 1st ride page.  

See ya on the road ...

Beej

Update 13 Feb - Here's that pic I promised you. (This is my niece, Marci in the front.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

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