Got my first taste of motorcycling, straddling the tank of my uncle's Indian, when I was 6-7 years old.
He was an Army motor pool mechanic during the war. When he got out he opened his own shop next door to our house. He had his own stable of bikes in varying stages of repair, including a bobber. Whenever I heard it crank up, I'd come a'runnin', he'd swing me up on the tank and off we'd go. He'd leave a sign on the door: "Closed. Gone ridin'. I'm on the Indian, so it might be awhile." Fond memories. -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Nighthawk Motorcycle Lovers!" group. To post to this group, send email to [email protected]. To unsubscribe from this group, send email to [email protected]. For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/nighthawk_lovers?hl=en.
