Your first Harley.
#1
12-16-2011, 05:55 PM
Your first Harley.
As some of you know I have been working on a book relating to motorcycles (for way longer than it should take to write one) and just finished reading part of what I had written discussing the day I got my first Harley-Davidson.
Writing and remembering brought back some great memories and feelings of that first Big Twin and I thought it would be great to read about others experiences the day the threw a leg over their first one.
All though it is a bit lengthy, I'm posting it here in hopes it prompt some of you to share your first real motorcycle experience with the rest of us.
Here goes....................
It was nice fall day and I had decided to stay home from school and just lay around the house. Mom had already left for work and Dad was working the swing shift and had just gotten up to find me lying on the couch watching T.V. Dad had a surprised look on his face when he saw me and asked, “What are you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be in School?” “I’m sick and staying home today” I replied. He gave me little smirk and went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, he came back to the living room and said as best as I can remember, “sick my ***….you look fine to me”. I told him that I was really was sick and needed to be home. He said, and this is an exact quote, I remember it like it was this morning, “OH Bullshit!----You want to go look at Motorcycles”? He didn’t need to ask me twice, I was up and dressed in less than 5 minutes.
Dad had always liked bikes and had a couple of small imports when I was growing up, but his dream was to have a Harley. There was no way Mom would agree to him getting one so he always settled for some low priced smaller bike. Thinking back, I believe Dad lived his motorcycle fantasies through me. I had a Suzuki T-500 Titan at the time, which I had bought new earlier that year. I had owned it about six months and paid $900.00 for it. I rode all my bikes on public roads, without a driver’s license and with Dads blessing.
With more than a little excitement, we got in the car and headed out to look at bikes. Our first stop was the Triumph shop near our house. Then it was off to the Honda and Yamaha shops which were in the same neighborhood. We spent maybe 20 minutes at each of them and then it was off to the Rainier Valley of Seattle to look at Norton’s, Royal Enfield’s and American Eagles. After that, we headed out to the “Shoreline District” in North Seattle to check out the BSA’s.
It was one of those days we rarely had together and I did not want it to end. We were on equal ground, just being Buddy’s. I think his experiences in WWII and Korea made it difficult for him to connect on a personal level and express his feelings. In my mind, this was the best day the two of us had ever spent together.
After leaving the BSA dealer, we stopped and had breakfast and spent the entire time talking about bikes. Dad talked about when he was in Europe during the Second World War. He recounted how he had wanted to get into an outfit that had motorcycles but instead ended up lugging around a big, heavy Browning automatic rifle. We talked about how fortunate I was to be able to buy and ride my own bikes.
Dad had very little as a young boy growing up on a farm in Iowa. His father died when he was just seven years old and he left school in the third grade to help his Mother and sister try to keep the farm going. When he was ten, he got a job at the local bowling alley working as a pinsetter. He lied about his age and joined the “CCC’s” at fifteen. After doing that for a year, he was able to get into the Army and sent most all his pay home to his Mother. When he and my Mom married, he was still in the Army and could not afford a bike. The time or money was just never right for him to buy his “74”, as he liked to refer to the big Harleys.
After we finished breakfast, it was Downtown to Lake Union and a stop to look at Moto Guzzi’s at “Jerry Draggers Motorcycle Company”. I ended up buying “Guzzi” from Jerry about a year later. After we left Draggers, he said it was time to go home so he could get ready for work. He never made it to work that day.
CHAPTER 4
THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!
As we neared the south end of Lake Union, Dad said he thought we had time for one more stop. That was fine with me and as we rounded the corner, I saw the sign for Seattle Harley-Davidson ®. Unlike the big mega stores that define Harley dealers today, Seattle Harley was in an old small building in the industrial area near the 1962 World’s Fair Space Needle. The entire store was not much larger than a medium size convenience store of today.
Seattle Harley did not have a parking lot so we parked at the curb about a half block away. I seem to remember there being about eight motorcycles in the showroom. All but a couple of the bikes were new and shined like diamonds under the bright lights. I can still smell the oil and exhaust that was coming from the small service area just to the right of the front door as we walked in. A small counter with a few displays and some accessories was on the back wall behind the bikes along with some jackets, gloves, hats, and a few helmets.
Because it was before noon on a weekday, there were no other customers. A salesman met us at the door. “How can I help you boys?” he asked. “We are just looking at bikes,” Dad replied. HE might have been looking at “bikes” but my attention was focused on one in particular. It caught my eye as soon as we were in the door. It was not one of the shiny new Harleys, but a used dull orange one that was in the corner behind all the rest. Looking back, it was like the old Tote-Goat in the back of the hardware store. I told the salesman I wanted to see the orange one in the corner. He told me that I would probably be happier with one of the new ones because they all had electric starters; the one I wanted to see was a kick-start only. I explained to the salesman “all my bikes have been kick-start and it has never been a problem for me”. “Have any of them been a 74 inch Harley?” he asked, as if to infer there was something sinister about kick starting a Harley. “Well no, but I can handle it”, I replied. His question did make me a little apprehensive but did not scare me off.
The salesman then asked, “Would you like to take it for a spin?” I looked at Dad; he said “What are you looking at me for? He’s the one that asked you the question?” “You bet I do!” I could not believe I was going to ride a Harley-Davidson. That was the ultimate!
After moving a couple of the other motorcycles, the salesman rolled the one I was interested in out the door and parked it. Then he said, “Just need to see your driver’s license and you can ride it and see what you think.” “Uhhhh, I don’t have a drivers license” was my sheepish response. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you take a test ride if you don’t have a license.” I could see the look of disgust on his face. That is when Dad chimed in; “Can he ride it up and down the alley?” After a short pause, the salesman said he did not see a problem with that. I felt a sense of relief come over me not unlike the feeling I had when Mr. Brasby told me I could work off the price of the squirt gun. The Salesman then told me “I’ll need to show you how to start the bike, they have a combination, you know.” I did not know and thought, it can’t be that hard, this guy is just messing with me. “OK, you show me how,” I said. He went through a succession of steps that he said would guarantee a successful start every time with no more than three kicks. The bike started on the first kick and the sound coming out of those pipes was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I must have ridden that bike up and down the alley at least 20 times. When I turned off the ignition, I had a smile on my face so big it hurt! “Well, what do you think?” he asked. “I love it, it’s great! I’m gonna get me one of these someday!” I responded enthusiastically. “Why not today?” he asked. “I don’t have enough to buy this.” I replied. I had no idea how much it was but I was sure it was more than I had. I didn’t even know what year the bike was, and at that point don’t think I really cared.
Once again, Dad injected himself into the conversation, asking what year, and how much. “It’s a 64 Duo-Glide and has been very well cared for” was the response. The price was $1,500.00. My heart sank.
I had been working two jobs, one of which was hot tar roofing and paid $10.00 an hour under the table. I had managed to save only $800.00 since the purchase of my Suzuki.
I think dad saw the look of disappointment on my face. He told the salesman that he and I were going outside for a minute. When we got out the door he stopped by the bike I had just rode and asked, “Do you really want this bike?” I told him I wanted it “more than anything.” Dad looked like he was deep in thought for a few moments then said “how much money do you have saved?” I said, “I’ve got about $800.00 in my bank account”. Dad thought for another moment and then looked at the Harley, and back at me. “OK here’s what am willing to do to help you get this bike, I’ll give you $500.00 for the Suzuki, and loan you the rest”. I said “but dad, I paid $900.00 for the Suzuki less than a year ago, it has to be worth more than that”. Dad’s response was “do you want this Harley or not?” I knew he had me, “yes” I replied. Dad then told me we were going to go back inside and to “keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking, I’m going to see if I can get him to come down on the price”. I agreed to let him do all the talking and dad opened the door and we went back inside.
I have no doubt the expression on my face told the salesman he had already made the sale. Dad said, “are you willing to come down on the price?” “What are we talking? I don’t have a lot of room to deal but I will do whatever I can to get him on this bike” was the salesman’s response.
After the usual back and forth that occurs when buying a vehicle they agreed on a price of $1,400.00. This meant I would still owe dad another $100.00 plus whatever the tax and license was. I was confidant I could repay that before the end of the year. We did not roof in the winter but my other job as an usher and doorman at the Seattle Center Coliseum and Arena paid enough to get dad paid back in a reasonable amount of time.
Dad and I went to the bank and got the money needed to finish the deal. I was in shock, thinking this can’t be happening! By mid afternoon, I was the owner of an Honest to God Harley Davidson Motorcycle!
After all the paperwork was finished and the money had changed hands, I went outside to ride my new Harley home. “Hold on a minute, I can’t let you ride that off this property, you don’t have a drivers license”. I could tell the salesman was not going to budge on this . After a short conversation, Dad ended up pushing the bike out of the alley and parked it at the curb in front of the building next to the Harley shop. This satisfied the salesman. Getting into his car, Dad looked back at me and shouted, “I’ll see you at home, be careful and don’t be too late.
************************************************** *******
Below is a pic of Dad on the Suzuki he bought from me and me on the Duo-Glide
OK now lets hear some of your stories.
Writing and remembering brought back some great memories and feelings of that first Big Twin and I thought it would be great to read about others experiences the day the threw a leg over their first one.
All though it is a bit lengthy, I'm posting it here in hopes it prompt some of you to share your first real motorcycle experience with the rest of us.
Here goes....................
It was nice fall day and I had decided to stay home from school and just lay around the house. Mom had already left for work and Dad was working the swing shift and had just gotten up to find me lying on the couch watching T.V. Dad had a surprised look on his face when he saw me and asked, “What are you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be in School?” “I’m sick and staying home today” I replied. He gave me little smirk and went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, he came back to the living room and said as best as I can remember, “sick my ***….you look fine to me”. I told him that I was really was sick and needed to be home. He said, and this is an exact quote, I remember it like it was this morning, “OH Bullshit!----You want to go look at Motorcycles”? He didn’t need to ask me twice, I was up and dressed in less than 5 minutes.
Dad had always liked bikes and had a couple of small imports when I was growing up, but his dream was to have a Harley. There was no way Mom would agree to him getting one so he always settled for some low priced smaller bike. Thinking back, I believe Dad lived his motorcycle fantasies through me. I had a Suzuki T-500 Titan at the time, which I had bought new earlier that year. I had owned it about six months and paid $900.00 for it. I rode all my bikes on public roads, without a driver’s license and with Dads blessing.
With more than a little excitement, we got in the car and headed out to look at bikes. Our first stop was the Triumph shop near our house. Then it was off to the Honda and Yamaha shops which were in the same neighborhood. We spent maybe 20 minutes at each of them and then it was off to the Rainier Valley of Seattle to look at Norton’s, Royal Enfield’s and American Eagles. After that, we headed out to the “Shoreline District” in North Seattle to check out the BSA’s.
It was one of those days we rarely had together and I did not want it to end. We were on equal ground, just being Buddy’s. I think his experiences in WWII and Korea made it difficult for him to connect on a personal level and express his feelings. In my mind, this was the best day the two of us had ever spent together.
After leaving the BSA dealer, we stopped and had breakfast and spent the entire time talking about bikes. Dad talked about when he was in Europe during the Second World War. He recounted how he had wanted to get into an outfit that had motorcycles but instead ended up lugging around a big, heavy Browning automatic rifle. We talked about how fortunate I was to be able to buy and ride my own bikes.
Dad had very little as a young boy growing up on a farm in Iowa. His father died when he was just seven years old and he left school in the third grade to help his Mother and sister try to keep the farm going. When he was ten, he got a job at the local bowling alley working as a pinsetter. He lied about his age and joined the “CCC’s” at fifteen. After doing that for a year, he was able to get into the Army and sent most all his pay home to his Mother. When he and my Mom married, he was still in the Army and could not afford a bike. The time or money was just never right for him to buy his “74”, as he liked to refer to the big Harleys.
After we finished breakfast, it was Downtown to Lake Union and a stop to look at Moto Guzzi’s at “Jerry Draggers Motorcycle Company”. I ended up buying “Guzzi” from Jerry about a year later. After we left Draggers, he said it was time to go home so he could get ready for work. He never made it to work that day.
CHAPTER 4
THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!
As we neared the south end of Lake Union, Dad said he thought we had time for one more stop. That was fine with me and as we rounded the corner, I saw the sign for Seattle Harley-Davidson ®. Unlike the big mega stores that define Harley dealers today, Seattle Harley was in an old small building in the industrial area near the 1962 World’s Fair Space Needle. The entire store was not much larger than a medium size convenience store of today.
Seattle Harley did not have a parking lot so we parked at the curb about a half block away. I seem to remember there being about eight motorcycles in the showroom. All but a couple of the bikes were new and shined like diamonds under the bright lights. I can still smell the oil and exhaust that was coming from the small service area just to the right of the front door as we walked in. A small counter with a few displays and some accessories was on the back wall behind the bikes along with some jackets, gloves, hats, and a few helmets.
Because it was before noon on a weekday, there were no other customers. A salesman met us at the door. “How can I help you boys?” he asked. “We are just looking at bikes,” Dad replied. HE might have been looking at “bikes” but my attention was focused on one in particular. It caught my eye as soon as we were in the door. It was not one of the shiny new Harleys, but a used dull orange one that was in the corner behind all the rest. Looking back, it was like the old Tote-Goat in the back of the hardware store. I told the salesman I wanted to see the orange one in the corner. He told me that I would probably be happier with one of the new ones because they all had electric starters; the one I wanted to see was a kick-start only. I explained to the salesman “all my bikes have been kick-start and it has never been a problem for me”. “Have any of them been a 74 inch Harley?” he asked, as if to infer there was something sinister about kick starting a Harley. “Well no, but I can handle it”, I replied. His question did make me a little apprehensive but did not scare me off.
The salesman then asked, “Would you like to take it for a spin?” I looked at Dad; he said “What are you looking at me for? He’s the one that asked you the question?” “You bet I do!” I could not believe I was going to ride a Harley-Davidson. That was the ultimate!
After moving a couple of the other motorcycles, the salesman rolled the one I was interested in out the door and parked it. Then he said, “Just need to see your driver’s license and you can ride it and see what you think.” “Uhhhh, I don’t have a drivers license” was my sheepish response. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you take a test ride if you don’t have a license.” I could see the look of disgust on his face. That is when Dad chimed in; “Can he ride it up and down the alley?” After a short pause, the salesman said he did not see a problem with that. I felt a sense of relief come over me not unlike the feeling I had when Mr. Brasby told me I could work off the price of the squirt gun. The Salesman then told me “I’ll need to show you how to start the bike, they have a combination, you know.” I did not know and thought, it can’t be that hard, this guy is just messing with me. “OK, you show me how,” I said. He went through a succession of steps that he said would guarantee a successful start every time with no more than three kicks. The bike started on the first kick and the sound coming out of those pipes was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I must have ridden that bike up and down the alley at least 20 times. When I turned off the ignition, I had a smile on my face so big it hurt! “Well, what do you think?” he asked. “I love it, it’s great! I’m gonna get me one of these someday!” I responded enthusiastically. “Why not today?” he asked. “I don’t have enough to buy this.” I replied. I had no idea how much it was but I was sure it was more than I had. I didn’t even know what year the bike was, and at that point don’t think I really cared.
Once again, Dad injected himself into the conversation, asking what year, and how much. “It’s a 64 Duo-Glide and has been very well cared for” was the response. The price was $1,500.00. My heart sank.
I had been working two jobs, one of which was hot tar roofing and paid $10.00 an hour under the table. I had managed to save only $800.00 since the purchase of my Suzuki.
I think dad saw the look of disappointment on my face. He told the salesman that he and I were going outside for a minute. When we got out the door he stopped by the bike I had just rode and asked, “Do you really want this bike?” I told him I wanted it “more than anything.” Dad looked like he was deep in thought for a few moments then said “how much money do you have saved?” I said, “I’ve got about $800.00 in my bank account”. Dad thought for another moment and then looked at the Harley, and back at me. “OK here’s what am willing to do to help you get this bike, I’ll give you $500.00 for the Suzuki, and loan you the rest”. I said “but dad, I paid $900.00 for the Suzuki less than a year ago, it has to be worth more than that”. Dad’s response was “do you want this Harley or not?” I knew he had me, “yes” I replied. Dad then told me we were going to go back inside and to “keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking, I’m going to see if I can get him to come down on the price”. I agreed to let him do all the talking and dad opened the door and we went back inside.
I have no doubt the expression on my face told the salesman he had already made the sale. Dad said, “are you willing to come down on the price?” “What are we talking? I don’t have a lot of room to deal but I will do whatever I can to get him on this bike” was the salesman’s response.
After the usual back and forth that occurs when buying a vehicle they agreed on a price of $1,400.00. This meant I would still owe dad another $100.00 plus whatever the tax and license was. I was confidant I could repay that before the end of the year. We did not roof in the winter but my other job as an usher and doorman at the Seattle Center Coliseum and Arena paid enough to get dad paid back in a reasonable amount of time.
Dad and I went to the bank and got the money needed to finish the deal. I was in shock, thinking this can’t be happening! By mid afternoon, I was the owner of an Honest to God Harley Davidson Motorcycle!
After all the paperwork was finished and the money had changed hands, I went outside to ride my new Harley home. “Hold on a minute, I can’t let you ride that off this property, you don’t have a drivers license”. I could tell the salesman was not going to budge on this . After a short conversation, Dad ended up pushing the bike out of the alley and parked it at the curb in front of the building next to the Harley shop. This satisfied the salesman. Getting into his car, Dad looked back at me and shouted, “I’ll see you at home, be careful and don’t be too late.
************************************************** *******
Below is a pic of Dad on the Suzuki he bought from me and me on the Duo-Glide
OK now lets hear some of your stories.
#2
12-16-2011, 06:47 PM
Cruiser
When I got my Harley it was a great day for me, but dang, my story would be pretty lame compared to the one you just shared.
#3
12-16-2011, 07:58 PM
I ain't believing that for a second. Lets hear it. How did it go down and how did it make ya feel?
#4
12-16-2011, 08:49 PM
Seasoned HDF Member
Great story IA. Heres mine.
I have always wanted a Harley. I am addicted (see log on name) to bikes.
I guess I also visited every Harley shop at every town I was in at the time. So, I'm looking through a internet site and spotted THE bike of my dreams (see sig pic). I call the guy up and he says "you are the first and only one to call me". Sence the bike was only about 70 miles away I asked to come see it. He said come on. So I loaded up in the truck and took off.
When I pulled up to the owner's house and saw how well the yard was taken care of I knew right then I was going to buy this bike. I mean it looked like they combed the grass. Not a blade or plant was out of place. If their yard looked this good then I knew thay took care of their stuff.
The dude comes out shakes my hand and said "you want to see it". "Well yeah" was my reply. When he pulled the cover of that bike my heart skipped a beat I think. It was flawless, completely stock and beautiful in my eyes. I bought it right on the spot.
He asked me if I wanted to ride it and I thought it best not too sence it wasnt in my name yet and I didn't have a motorcycle endorsment. But, man did I want to. I started it up and sat on it. I could feel every nuance of that bike. Right then I knew that bike was meant for me when it rolled off the assembly line.
He rode the bike to my house for me. Him and his wife stay for a little while, talking bikes (they had just bought a new Ultra). We said our goodbyes and they left.
So now I'm standing there looking at MY bike drooling. Wanting to ride it more every minute that tick's by. Finially I couldn't stand it any longer. I grab my camo forewheeler helmet and take off on the back rodes. No tag, no endorsment but I just didn't care. I wanted to ride. I really dont know how long I was gone. But I can tell you it wasn't long enough.
It's had to explain how I felt that day. Maybe the feeling is best described as winning a race or climbing a mountain that everybody said couldn't be climbed. It was like "HELL YEAH I DID IT".
I have always wanted a Harley. I am addicted (see log on name) to bikes.
I guess I also visited every Harley shop at every town I was in at the time. So, I'm looking through a internet site and spotted THE bike of my dreams (see sig pic). I call the guy up and he says "you are the first and only one to call me". Sence the bike was only about 70 miles away I asked to come see it. He said come on. So I loaded up in the truck and took off.
When I pulled up to the owner's house and saw how well the yard was taken care of I knew right then I was going to buy this bike. I mean it looked like they combed the grass. Not a blade or plant was out of place. If their yard looked this good then I knew thay took care of their stuff.
The dude comes out shakes my hand and said "you want to see it". "Well yeah" was my reply. When he pulled the cover of that bike my heart skipped a beat I think. It was flawless, completely stock and beautiful in my eyes. I bought it right on the spot.
He asked me if I wanted to ride it and I thought it best not too sence it wasnt in my name yet and I didn't have a motorcycle endorsment. But, man did I want to. I started it up and sat on it. I could feel every nuance of that bike. Right then I knew that bike was meant for me when it rolled off the assembly line.
He rode the bike to my house for me. Him and his wife stay for a little while, talking bikes (they had just bought a new Ultra). We said our goodbyes and they left.
So now I'm standing there looking at MY bike drooling. Wanting to ride it more every minute that tick's by. Finially I couldn't stand it any longer. I grab my camo forewheeler helmet and take off on the back rodes. No tag, no endorsment but I just didn't care. I wanted to ride. I really dont know how long I was gone. But I can tell you it wasn't long enough.
It's had to explain how I felt that day. Maybe the feeling is best described as winning a race or climbing a mountain that everybody said couldn't be climbed. It was like "HELL YEAH I DID IT".
Last edited by bikenut1957; 12-16-2011 at 08:58 PM.
#5
12-16-2011, 09:36 PM
Advanced
My first Harley came last week. I went in to buy a t-shirt as a Christmas gift and left with a 2008 fatboy 105th! Best ride ever. Cold but worth it! Oh, and the shirt was not free!!!
#6
12-16-2011, 09:51 PM
Great story IA. Heres mine.
I have always wanted a Harley. I am addicted (see log on name) to bikes.
I guess I also visited every Harley shop at every town I was in at the time. So, I'm looking through a internet site and spotted THE bike of my dreams (see sig pic). I call the guy up and he says "you are the first and only one to call me". Sence the bike was only about 70 miles away I asked to come see it. He said come on. So I loaded up in the truck and took off.
When I pulled up to the owner's house and saw how well the yard was taken care of I knew right then I was going to buy this bike. I mean it looked like they combed the grass. Not a blade or plant was out of place. If their yard looked this good then I knew thay took care of their stuff.
The dude comes out shakes my hand and said "you want to see it". "Well yeah" was my reply. When he pulled the cover of that bike my heart skipped a beat I think. It was flawless, completely stock and beautiful in my eyes. I bought it right on the spot.
He asked me if I wanted to ride it and I thought it best not too sence it wasnt in my name yet and I didn't have a motorcycle endorsment. But, man did I want to. I started it up and sat on it. I could feel every nuance of that bike. Right then I knew that bike was meant for me when it rolled off the assembly line.
He rode the bike to my house for me. Him and his wife stay for a little while, talking bikes (they had just bought a new Ultra). We said our goodbyes and they left.
So now I'm standing there looking at MY bike drooling. Wanting to ride it more every minute that tick's by. Finially I couldn't stand it any longer. I grab my camo forewheeler helmet and take off on the back rodes. No tag, no endorsment but I just didn't care. I wanted to ride. I really dont know how long I was gone. But I can tell you it wasn't long enough.
It's had to explain how I felt that day. Maybe the feeling is best described as winning a race or climbing a mountain that everybody said couldn't be climbed. It was like "HELL YEAH I DID IT".
I have always wanted a Harley. I am addicted (see log on name) to bikes.
I guess I also visited every Harley shop at every town I was in at the time. So, I'm looking through a internet site and spotted THE bike of my dreams (see sig pic). I call the guy up and he says "you are the first and only one to call me". Sence the bike was only about 70 miles away I asked to come see it. He said come on. So I loaded up in the truck and took off.
When I pulled up to the owner's house and saw how well the yard was taken care of I knew right then I was going to buy this bike. I mean it looked like they combed the grass. Not a blade or plant was out of place. If their yard looked this good then I knew thay took care of their stuff.
The dude comes out shakes my hand and said "you want to see it". "Well yeah" was my reply. When he pulled the cover of that bike my heart skipped a beat I think. It was flawless, completely stock and beautiful in my eyes. I bought it right on the spot.
He asked me if I wanted to ride it and I thought it best not too sence it wasnt in my name yet and I didn't have a motorcycle endorsment. But, man did I want to. I started it up and sat on it. I could feel every nuance of that bike. Right then I knew that bike was meant for me when it rolled off the assembly line.
He rode the bike to my house for me. Him and his wife stay for a little while, talking bikes (they had just bought a new Ultra). We said our goodbyes and they left.
So now I'm standing there looking at MY bike drooling. Wanting to ride it more every minute that tick's by. Finially I couldn't stand it any longer. I grab my camo forewheeler helmet and take off on the back rodes. No tag, no endorsment but I just didn't care. I wanted to ride. I really dont know how long I was gone. But I can tell you it wasn't long enough.
It's had to explain how I felt that day. Maybe the feeling is best described as winning a race or climbing a mountain that everybody said couldn't be climbed. It was like "HELL YEAH I DID IT".
Those T-shirts can be a bit pricey but I'm betting the feeling you got from that shirt shopping trip is priceless!
#7
12-16-2011, 11:15 PM
Cruiser
Sorry for the length of the post, but it's too cold to ride so writing about it relieves anxiety associated with bikes in storage.
I waited too long in life before finally buying a Harley and went too many years without a bike at all. They’re just too much fun to be without. In Junior High School I was fortunate to have a friend with a stable of dirt bikes I rode often but I finally owned a Kawasaki Mach 1 in 1070, the second year they made them, a graduation present from my Dad. Fastest street bike made at the time. Mom refused to let me own a motorcycle while growing up, something about death being eminent. I only had it about 6 months before I volunteered for the draft and went into the Army, but I rode the hell out of it and got my license suspended by the local PD for “driving with the intent to endanger lives and property”. I was as proud of that ticket as I was of my motorcycle and the black leather jacket my Mom bought me from Sears.
I bought a 441 Victor Lightning BSA while I was in Germany and tore up the roads around the vineyards near the base. I had my Dad sell the Kawasaki while I was in the military, hoping to come home and buy a Harley but it never happened. I was given a Suziki by a relative, it was like a dog that had bitten the children. Just take it!!
I never had the money to justify such a fine toy for myself as a Harley, but when I went to work Afghanistan in 2006 I promised myself that when I got out of debt, I would reward myself with a new Harley. I tried but didn’t do well with HD dealers over the phone and internet, but found an add for a beautiful 2007 Softtail custom and I finally made a deal to purchase it while on my next R&R. The deal fell thru when the bike was stolen before I got to it and another year went by. I still look for it, it was exactly the bike I wanted. After other obstacles popped up I was home for a visit and drove by an old Sportster sitting at a garage sale.
Not what I wanted but I bought it that day figuring it was better than nothing and I’m getting older by the day. A 1979 Sporty with drag pipes, no baffles. It’s in better shape and younger than I m so I’ll take it. Everyone in town knew I finally had a Harley. On the way home after the purchase, a State Trooper presented me a ticket for no motorcycle permit, no insurance, and a warning for no helmet or eye protection. Not as cool as my previous citation but it didn’t dampen my mood, even though he refused to let me drive it home. The guy I bought it from drove out to get me out of a jam. The trooper checked his license and guess what? His permit was expired as well. Smokey wanted us to trailer it, what a guy, but we waited him out and the other guy drove it home for me.
A month later I found more what I was looking for in a 2009 FXDC with 1750 miles on it. Almost new, close enough and three grand less than a new one. I put over 7000 miles on it and a few changes to it before the snow hit and enjoyed every mile, except for some wet, 36 degree miles in Wyoming. So, I waited 37 years between bikes and now I have two and can’t ride either one of them because of the snow and ice on the roads. I start them up often and talk to both of them so neither gets jealous. They are both Black and Chrome, loud and fast. Just as it should be. I have no plans of being without a HD again. Till death do us part or until I can’t remember where I left them.
I waited too long in life before finally buying a Harley and went too many years without a bike at all. They’re just too much fun to be without. In Junior High School I was fortunate to have a friend with a stable of dirt bikes I rode often but I finally owned a Kawasaki Mach 1 in 1070, the second year they made them, a graduation present from my Dad. Fastest street bike made at the time. Mom refused to let me own a motorcycle while growing up, something about death being eminent. I only had it about 6 months before I volunteered for the draft and went into the Army, but I rode the hell out of it and got my license suspended by the local PD for “driving with the intent to endanger lives and property”. I was as proud of that ticket as I was of my motorcycle and the black leather jacket my Mom bought me from Sears.
I bought a 441 Victor Lightning BSA while I was in Germany and tore up the roads around the vineyards near the base. I had my Dad sell the Kawasaki while I was in the military, hoping to come home and buy a Harley but it never happened. I was given a Suziki by a relative, it was like a dog that had bitten the children. Just take it!!
I never had the money to justify such a fine toy for myself as a Harley, but when I went to work Afghanistan in 2006 I promised myself that when I got out of debt, I would reward myself with a new Harley. I tried but didn’t do well with HD dealers over the phone and internet, but found an add for a beautiful 2007 Softtail custom and I finally made a deal to purchase it while on my next R&R. The deal fell thru when the bike was stolen before I got to it and another year went by. I still look for it, it was exactly the bike I wanted. After other obstacles popped up I was home for a visit and drove by an old Sportster sitting at a garage sale.
Not what I wanted but I bought it that day figuring it was better than nothing and I’m getting older by the day. A 1979 Sporty with drag pipes, no baffles. It’s in better shape and younger than I m so I’ll take it. Everyone in town knew I finally had a Harley. On the way home after the purchase, a State Trooper presented me a ticket for no motorcycle permit, no insurance, and a warning for no helmet or eye protection. Not as cool as my previous citation but it didn’t dampen my mood, even though he refused to let me drive it home. The guy I bought it from drove out to get me out of a jam. The trooper checked his license and guess what? His permit was expired as well. Smokey wanted us to trailer it, what a guy, but we waited him out and the other guy drove it home for me.
A month later I found more what I was looking for in a 2009 FXDC with 1750 miles on it. Almost new, close enough and three grand less than a new one. I put over 7000 miles on it and a few changes to it before the snow hit and enjoyed every mile, except for some wet, 36 degree miles in Wyoming. So, I waited 37 years between bikes and now I have two and can’t ride either one of them because of the snow and ice on the roads. I start them up often and talk to both of them so neither gets jealous. They are both Black and Chrome, loud and fast. Just as it should be. I have no plans of being without a HD again. Till death do us part or until I can’t remember where I left them.
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#8
12-16-2011, 11:44 PM
Cruiser
Join Date: Dec 2011
Location: Mt.Pleasant Pa.
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My story I can remember like it was yesterday because it was last year. I hadn't owned a bike for about 20 yrs. my last bike was a 81 yamaha 650 special. The spring of 2010 I desided to get back into riding and to buy a bike.I always wanted a harley but I couldn't see spending all that money for a bike that i might ride 10 times a year so I started looking at used rice burners mainly the honda goldwings because I wanted something I could be comfortable on my 70mi trip to work and I figuered I could get one about 5yrs old with less 50k mi. for about $5,000, boy was I wrong.
After searching ebay and all the other used bike sights had bikes relatively close to home all spring and most of the summer of 2010 and not having any luck I gave up on finding one that year.
My neighbor and friend which sell salvage titled vehicles seen me working in my yard with my backhoe 1 day in aug.2010 came over to bs with me and to ask me if he could put some stone along the edge of my front yard to aid him when his car carriers come in to unload. I said, "sure when you want to do it?" He said, "today, I got some stone in the back of my shop and more on the way."I drove my backhoe down to his shop and was in his showroom waiting for him to get his backhoe out when I seen it. A vivid black 100th anniversary road king classic with a king tour pack on it.I walked over to it to get a closer look at the damage on it and price when he walked up behind me and asked, "do you like it?" I said, "hell yah."I asked, "how much do you want for it?"He said, "I was asking $8,200 but from you I'll take $7,200."I asked," how many miles on it?"He said,"11,700mi." I think right there my jaw hit the floor.
He said,"we'll discuss this later,lets get to work my backhoe's outside running". The whole time we where moving stone I was thinking how nice it would be if that harley was waiting for me in my garage. 3hrs later I'm back in his showroom checking the rk all over to see what it needs to be road worthy all I could find was the throttle grip and the r/h mirror was broken.My neighbor after dealing with a 2 other customers came up to me and asked,"what do you think?"I replied,"I think after I hear it run I need to get a loan."He said,"I'll go get the keys and the battery booster"He came back with the keys and the booster but forgot a screw driver to remove the seat screw. So while he was getting a screw driver I turned the ignition switch on and all the lights came on but when i pushed the start button all got was a grunt out of the starter.We hooked up the booster and wallah the sweet sound of harley vtwin idling.He told me that I'll have to get a Pa safety insp. done on it before I can apply for a title because it had a salvage certificate on it and not a title.He also told me that he has friend about 3mi away that does the safety inspections and works on harleys.I gave his friend a call and he said that he had a used throttle grip and right mirror and he could get me a battery in a couple days.
3 days later I'm nervously riding (because I never rode a bike this big before ) my harley to get the safety inspection done.2hrs later I'm riding it back to my neighbor's shop to do the paper work. The bike also has road rash on the eng guard and a little on both saddle bags,a cracked tour pack,and a dent on the front fender and gas tank. But runs and rides great.
Since then I replaced both handlebar grips and the king tour pack and also installed a sundowner seat with back rest.
It won't win any trophies at a show but that's not what I bought it for.
I wanna ride.
After searching ebay and all the other used bike sights had bikes relatively close to home all spring and most of the summer of 2010 and not having any luck I gave up on finding one that year.
My neighbor and friend which sell salvage titled vehicles seen me working in my yard with my backhoe 1 day in aug.2010 came over to bs with me and to ask me if he could put some stone along the edge of my front yard to aid him when his car carriers come in to unload. I said, "sure when you want to do it?" He said, "today, I got some stone in the back of my shop and more on the way."I drove my backhoe down to his shop and was in his showroom waiting for him to get his backhoe out when I seen it. A vivid black 100th anniversary road king classic with a king tour pack on it.I walked over to it to get a closer look at the damage on it and price when he walked up behind me and asked, "do you like it?" I said, "hell yah."I asked, "how much do you want for it?"He said, "I was asking $8,200 but from you I'll take $7,200."I asked," how many miles on it?"He said,"11,700mi." I think right there my jaw hit the floor.
He said,"we'll discuss this later,lets get to work my backhoe's outside running". The whole time we where moving stone I was thinking how nice it would be if that harley was waiting for me in my garage. 3hrs later I'm back in his showroom checking the rk all over to see what it needs to be road worthy all I could find was the throttle grip and the r/h mirror was broken.My neighbor after dealing with a 2 other customers came up to me and asked,"what do you think?"I replied,"I think after I hear it run I need to get a loan."He said,"I'll go get the keys and the battery booster"He came back with the keys and the booster but forgot a screw driver to remove the seat screw. So while he was getting a screw driver I turned the ignition switch on and all the lights came on but when i pushed the start button all got was a grunt out of the starter.We hooked up the booster and wallah the sweet sound of harley vtwin idling.He told me that I'll have to get a Pa safety insp. done on it before I can apply for a title because it had a salvage certificate on it and not a title.He also told me that he has friend about 3mi away that does the safety inspections and works on harleys.I gave his friend a call and he said that he had a used throttle grip and right mirror and he could get me a battery in a couple days.3 days later I'm nervously riding (because I never rode a bike this big before ) my harley to get the safety inspection done.2hrs later I'm riding it back to my neighbor's shop to do the paper work. The bike also has road rash on the eng guard and a little on both saddle bags,a cracked tour pack,and a dent on the front fender and gas tank. But runs and rides great.
Since then I replaced both handlebar grips and the king tour pack and also installed a sundowner seat with back rest.
It won't win any trophies at a show but that's not what I bought it for.
I wanna ride.
Last edited by torinoman; 12-17-2011 at 12:00 AM.
#9
12-17-2011, 12:54 AM
my first harley was a piece of **** hardtail ironhead sporty that was done badly total deathtrap.
I did ridiculous **** to obtain it.
I bought it from a tweaker clubber who was way past burnt out.
no income and nobody to provide a roof over my head but me.
It was probably worth 400 bucks. I am pretty sure I had at least 200 hours labor towards that. man that bike was pile of **** and letting a kid ride it in the mountians where I rode it with no license makes him kind of a dick... if it hadn't started a life long obsession I'd be pissed.
my mom sold me on the black market to some rednecks that couldn't adopt
lawyer and doctor forged the docs for lions share of the cash.
I remember daddy redneck telling me he paid 5k and was worse investment ever.
true that.
I met real mom and dad when I was 30
my mom took the money she got for selling me and put it towards a 65 buick GS
I don't know if my dad got any of the money.
they had a couple more kids (my full blood sisters) even got married
lied to them and everyone else about me.
I am deeply affected by father son stories
hits me like baseball bat
my whole family is reunited now
not me
can't get past
1 dont know what day I was born
2 they sold me for less than a honda 250
3 they lied to me since we met
4 daddy called on my cell phone in my limo right after I met him and tried to tell me how to live
5 no one but my dead grandmother has ever told me sorry
6 they all cast blame, stab each other in the back, and try to play like everything is fine. two faced ***.
7 rednex told me I was jewish they are Christians they told me my people killed jesus when I was a little kid. turns out I am native american and scotch. WTF? bad living environment terrible abuse left home at 15
8 and nail in the coffin, they are pushing on my kids to get to me
they reach out and I swat their filthy hands
don't want any of their nasty stink on me
hope my kids smell it too, past all their money
I have given my son 3 bikes and a convertible mustang hope I can give him a harley someday but my absentee dad is waving all his money around harleys corvettes and guns all MY family heirlooms that my pride will never let me enjoy.
in my family tree I'm the ****ing stump
none of my **** has any stink on it
hard to turn your nose up at a 69 vette convertible
but when a nasty person has been sitting in it that long some of it has to have rubbed off
no amount of money or stuff is ever going to purchase my integrity love or even a conversation.
I hope my son is learning by watching.
he seems to have a lot more tolerance for bullshit than me.
being a better father than mine is like hitting the broad side of the barn
you are very fortunate to have a father who would be so cool
I hope to be that good of a father. It is hard when all I have for reference are ********.
I did ridiculous **** to obtain it.
I bought it from a tweaker clubber who was way past burnt out.
no income and nobody to provide a roof over my head but me.
It was probably worth 400 bucks. I am pretty sure I had at least 200 hours labor towards that. man that bike was pile of **** and letting a kid ride it in the mountians where I rode it with no license makes him kind of a dick... if it hadn't started a life long obsession I'd be pissed.
my mom sold me on the black market to some rednecks that couldn't adopt
lawyer and doctor forged the docs for lions share of the cash.
I remember daddy redneck telling me he paid 5k and was worse investment ever.
true that.
I met real mom and dad when I was 30
my mom took the money she got for selling me and put it towards a 65 buick GS
I don't know if my dad got any of the money.
they had a couple more kids (my full blood sisters) even got married
lied to them and everyone else about me.
I am deeply affected by father son stories
hits me like baseball bat
my whole family is reunited now
not me
can't get past
1 dont know what day I was born
2 they sold me for less than a honda 250
3 they lied to me since we met
4 daddy called on my cell phone in my limo right after I met him and tried to tell me how to live
5 no one but my dead grandmother has ever told me sorry
6 they all cast blame, stab each other in the back, and try to play like everything is fine. two faced ***.
7 rednex told me I was jewish they are Christians they told me my people killed jesus when I was a little kid. turns out I am native american and scotch. WTF? bad living environment terrible abuse left home at 15
8 and nail in the coffin, they are pushing on my kids to get to me
they reach out and I swat their filthy hands
don't want any of their nasty stink on me
hope my kids smell it too, past all their money
I have given my son 3 bikes and a convertible mustang hope I can give him a harley someday but my absentee dad is waving all his money around harleys corvettes and guns all MY family heirlooms that my pride will never let me enjoy.
in my family tree I'm the ****ing stump
none of my **** has any stink on it
hard to turn your nose up at a 69 vette convertible
but when a nasty person has been sitting in it that long some of it has to have rubbed off
no amount of money or stuff is ever going to purchase my integrity love or even a conversation.
I hope my son is learning by watching.
he seems to have a lot more tolerance for bullshit than me.
being a better father than mine is like hitting the broad side of the barn
you are very fortunate to have a father who would be so cool
I hope to be that good of a father. It is hard when all I have for reference are ********.
#10
12-17-2011, 03:56 AM
Club Member
I always thought H-D's were slow until I ventured onto a 300-ft patch of dirt called Slades Raceway in Surry, VA....This is a drag strip in the dirt....There is fierce competetion from mini-bikes to Top Fuel...The rest is History!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UyM-HOLdHo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UyM-HOLdHo
