OK. This isn't about the first bike I owned, but the first time I was owned by the spirit in the bike. I didn't know what it was, or what was happening to me....I was like a dumb kid falling in love for the 1st time. Southern Vermont, 1968, on a runaway summer with Steve and Libby. Rented an old farm house and found work in town. First day we pulled up to our new digs in our Vdubya something caught my eye in the shadows of the shed, next to the house, something shiny winked at me. I went to the shed first, even before the house, and there before me was something beautiful and beastly, at once, and my young heart and lust were waked. Polished alloy, shiny black paint, a thin gold line....voluptuous curves, like Libby's t*tz. Without thought or hesitation I mounted it, and thrilled at the feel of my thighs pressed against the leather, the tug on my torso to reach the grips, my feet finding their home, perching me perfectly on top of something I didn't know......coiled power, sensuous, hard, shiny, cocked, ready. Since then, I measure every other by it. None can match the exquisite reach and curve of those pipes, the transcendent presence and smoldering spirit of something truly divine, which man forged, like Oden's hammer, a gift of the Gods. The art, then, was part sculpture, and pure mechanics. One would not do without the other, and what may have been lacking in pure mechanics was graced by form. In this, the two may have reached their zenith in the Vincent Black Shadow. I remember Libby, the gentle evening summer breeze, and the Shadow.......gone. Nick #422
-----Original Message----- From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] Sent: Saturday, February 07, 2004 3:59 PM To: Multiple recipients of list Subject: SOHC4 digest 4673 SOHC4 Digest 4673 Topics covered in this issue include: 1) RE: What was your first bike? by "Cook, Jason D PV2 BJACH-Ft Polk" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 6 Feb 2004 12:29:08 -0600 From: "Cook, Jason D PV2 BJACH-Ft Polk" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>, "Multiple recipients of list" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Subject: RE: What was your first bike? Message-ID: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> This is my first post and fittingly about my first bike. About 5-6 months ago I bought a Kawasaki 125 cc cruiser to get to and from work. I am in the Army on an Army post and the speed limits are 50 mph tops. It was not quite enough power as everybody but myself probably figured before I ever bought it. Lesson learned. I saw a 1974 CB750 in a junk yard about a month later and bought it for $500 because assured me it ran. 5 months of tinkering later and I took my first ride on it yesterday. FAST!!! I've got alot of work to do on it but that is where I am now. It runs and for now it has made me happy. -----Original Message----- From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] Sent: Thursday, February 05, 2004 9:50 AM To: Multiple recipients of list Subject: Re: What was your first bike? Although I'd been riding for years on the bikes that my buddies or other guys owned, I couldn't afford to buy my own bike until after high school. I'd cut my teeth on everything from my best friend Ernie's Honda CL70 (which we rode two-up all over creation), to bigger Yamaha two-strokes owned by my older sisters' boyfriends. Amazing what those guys would part with to get some time away from the pesky little brother! Luckily I also lived just across the street from one amazing motorcycle nut family, and their dad was always bringing home different bikes for himself or his four kids or even the neighbor kids to ride. I guess this was before the days of liability fears, or good ol' Dave C. was just indifferent to the risk, but he used to always have his garage stocked with Honda Mini-Trails and CT70s and CT90s that were just available for any kid in the neighborhood to go ride. All he insisted on was that you wore a "brain bucket," of which he also had many spares lying around, and you were free to ride his stuff anywhere. God bless you, Dave; I know that some of your neighbors must have disliked having you in the neighborhood, but the kids there loved you. I hope you've got half of heaven on two wheels by now. Through Dave's garage I explored dirt and street machines of all types and sizes. Pentons, Hodakas, Maicos, Husquvarnas, Bultacos, Montessas, and the incredible (at the time) Honda Elsinores. Living in New Mexico meant great motocross riding was just a block or two away. Dave preferred dirt riding for the kids, because we had no licenses and he thought you were less likely to get injured there. I look back now and wonder how he even afforded to buy gasoline for all those bikes, much less other maintenance, but he never had a shortage of kids around the house helping him with oil changes or other maintenance chores. We all learned a little bit of wrenching from the guy, who was an uneducated mechanical genius. Dave also showed me my first Honda CB750. They weren't on the market for a week before he brought one home and amazed everybody with it's incredible sound and power. The world did not have enough toys for this guy. Among other mechanical curiousities he had a miniature front-end loader and backhoe, a home-made ultra-light airplane, a small parking lot sweeper (like those huge street sweepers, but personal sized), and other assorted mechnaical bits and pieces. He had some strange 6th sense, and would find this odd mechanical stuff all over creation, and bring it home to be repaired and given a new lease on life. He used to show us pictures of him racing at Bonneville in the 1950s, before his marriage and kids. Quite a guy, who lived as full a life as anybody I've known since. So after high school I decided it was time to get my first bike, one of my own. And Dave took me to the Suzuki dealership and co-signed for my loan to buy a brand new Suzuki GS750E, black with cast-alloy wheels. Fastest 750 on the market, he assured me. Good solid bike. I'd been considering a Yamaha 750 triple, with a shaft drive, but Dave said chains had been working just fine for many years, and he didn't think a shaft was all that much better, so I took his advice. Never regreted it. Now, some 25 or 30 bikes later, I still know where my original GS750 resides. With the father of a buddy of mine, who bought it from me when I moved east. ------------------------------ End of SOHC4 Digest 4673 ************************
