Wa-a-a-h-h H-o-o-o-o!!!!!!! Stayed up 'til about 2AM this morning (March 27, 2004), copped a couple hours sleep, and went back out to finish up a couple little things before my group's Every Saturday Ride. Hit the starter switch and the ex-Cherry Pie backfired through the rear pipe, then started up. She ran a bit rough at first 'til I got the choke set where it made her happy. I let her warm up nice and easy and looked for any fluids trying to escape. For once I'd managed to tighten all the bolts, screws, and other fasteners correctly, and do it the first time.
I kissed the MAMA adios and hit the road to meet the gang. I was almost a half hour late, but they waited for me, and didn't even toss any Harley jokes my way. We talked about where to go, as I hadn't been sure I was going to make it, and hadn't planned anything. Everyone agreed on riding to Carthage, TX and eating at an all-you-can-eat catfish buffet joint. I didn't know the route, so a couple others took the lead, and we headed out.
After filling up on catfish, a fried rice, shrimp, and onion dish, and some dessert, all washed down with good ol' Texas ice tea, we talked about where to go next. I mentioned a story the guy that built my carport told me, about an old defunct Yamaha shop that was filled with dusty antique bikes. It was s'posed to be just down the road in Joaquin, TX. We asked how to get there and took off.
When we rolled into Joaquin we immediately saw the Yamaha sign on an old decrepit building. We pulled over and walked around to the door, looking in the dirty windows as we went. No one was in the shop, but the story I'd been told was true. The old showroom was crammed full of dusty old-and-not-so-old bikes. First thing that caught my eye was the girder front end attached to some old Indian. Then a Norton, then a semi-chopped Triumph with the head reversed and a Sporty gas tank. Next was an old Mustang (motorcycle, that is), and a couple other early-to-mid '50's scooter-type bikes. I saw a Ducati, a newer BMW, and a new HD dresser. There were scads of Japanese bikes, from dirt bikes up. And quite a crowd of Triumphs, as well as several Enfield single cylinders.
While we were looking in the windows a girl about half a block away yelled that the owner lived right behind her, and his son lived across the street. Neither was at home, so we didn't get the nickel tour. It's a nice ride from my home so I'll get back that way and try again sometime soon.
After gawking at the old-and-not-so-old bikes we mounted and rode across the Sabine River into Logansport, LA. We tooled through this river port and hooked it east to Mansfield, LA where we gassed up and decided on a route towards home. We picked up a road to Shreveport, LA and several folks peeled off to visit one guy's son. The rest of us got on I 20 and crossed back into Texas. As we traveled west on the super-slab we peeled off as our exits came up.
I headed into Marshall, TX to the local Suzuki/Bombardier/boat shop (used to be an Indian shop) to talk to the HD mechanic they have. He recently spent some time mounting my new rear tire to the Sporty mag I bought for my ex-Cherry Pie Sloptail. I'd told him I'd stop by and show him what she looked like all purtied up with new paint. We talked for a bit, and several of the sales and parts types commented that they liked the bobber look my FLST now sports. I let 'em swell my head up some, and then headed on home. Ended up covering just shy of 250 miles, and had a great time, even after having to pick all the bugs outta my teeth from grinnin' all the way!

 

Seems to be a common problem among HD riders. Great story...let us know when you get that nickel tour.