I was 12 years old the first time I hopped on a motorcycle. At this point in my life, I had ridden a lot of ATV’s and ridden bicycles a bit. My dad was a major contributor to my motorsports journey; he bought me a Suzuki LT 80 at age 4 with many more quads to follow. A purple and yellow (90’s) color set, at its heart a small bore single cylinder 2 stroke engine finding its way to the dirt via a V-Belt driven transmission. Suffice to say, I had not had any experience on two wheels other than a bicycle at this point.

Fast forward 8 quick years, and I found myself riding two up. My dad and I on the back of his ’78 Honda CB 750. We rode out to an undeveloped neighborhood with views of Cherokee lake in east TN. The road was wide and smooth, with constant elevation change, and towering powerful maples lining the roadway. A supreme place to learn to ride and admire nature. I can’t recall what prompted such a ride out, if my dad already had plans for me to ride it, or if I had asked prior. Either way, my prepubescent ass was stoked to ride my “dads” bike. I don’t think I was much taller than 60″ then (72″ now). I remember him teaching me to use the sidestand. That is, leave the bike on the side stand, and step on the peg to get some height to throw your leg over the saddle. This was essentially a requirement for me at this point, and a habit that has long stayed with me after my first trial. I remember slowly and deliberately taking the weight off the side stand, onto my right foot, an event that happened all too quickly and resulted in me immediately dropping the bike on its right side. My dad, patiently helped me pick it up, and I had finally found success teetering what felt like a bus on two wheels beneath me.

–when I was 11, my dad bought me a 2004 Yamaha Blaster.
I loved this quad, and it set the foundation for all of my
clutch/shifting techniques.

I was so uncomfortable, this behemoth required so much balance, I was used to quads! You know, you can just sit and ride, no balance required. Needless to say, butterflies were soaring within me. I thought to myself, “there is no way I can pioneer this 750cc motorycle!” My dad was always extremely supportive, and driven to see me do well. I did not want to let him down, and was determined to show both him, and this late 70’s Honda what I could do! I was wearing emaciated nike shoes, basketball shorts with “extra” ventilation, and an oversized black Bell helmet! Regardless, I grabbed a handful of clutch, stomped down to 1st and looked over at my old man for approval. He gave a quick smile and a forward nod, and I began to feather out the clutch. I found a bit of speed and what I would discover equates to a feeling of sure-footedness/balance. Immediately, I was thrown into another world. The overwhelming quality at the time, was the smoothness of the road and machine. I felt a sense of freedom, that I may not match again in this life. I left it in first gear, and slowly weaved left and right, completely blown away of this smoothness, seamlessness of my machine and the road. As you may recall, this place was basically a mountain, my first voyage was down to the cul-de-sac that overlooked the bay. After I hit 10mph or so, I shifted into second. I was in a state of ecstasy, the smoothness of the road, the gentle hum of the inline 4 engrossed in this concrete jungle. I was in love, and knew I had to get my own.

-if only cell phones had cameras back in the early 2000’s

Thus, began the search for my very own Honda. We didn’t have to look far, one of my dad’s (soon to be) best friend/neighbor, Lyn, had a lead! She was ugly, and would barely run! The absolute epitome of a barn find gone south. It was trashed, the years had been unkind to this japanese girl. Rust, corrosion, faded paint and the occasional mammal would have scared away a lot of potential buyers. It didn’t me. I suppose it was an element of my youth, perhaps naivety or reality suppressed by adolscent excitement. Either way, I did NOT know the labors this girl put forth ahead of me. The present/prior self overwhelmed with the excitment of any possibility of me getting my own bike trumped reason and future fruits of labor. I pulled out my hip and cool Fossil wallet, and showed the current owner all of my current worth (around $600) and took her home. She had low miles, I can’t recall exactly, but I believe to be around 7500 or so. I changed the oil, my dad taught me how to rebuild the carbs (all stinkin’ 4 of them!) a few spark plugs later and she actually ran great. A 1976 Honda CB550F was all mine!

• Introduction

  August 21, 2023

  A New World The Early Days