Favorite Motorcycle Memory

[Mike M in ohio]

This on again/off again New York frigidity, got myself and some friends recalling our best two-wheeled experiences. And, although this thread has probably been done before, I figured, it's Winter. So, let me ask....what's YOUR favorite biking memory? After thirty-six years of riding, I've got a treasure trove full, but I'll start things off with this one:
    It was late February of 1982. I was riding my '76 Electraglide from New York to Daytona. A huge storm was approaching from the West, so, I was hustling Southbound through New Jersey on the Turnpike. ("Hustling" on an Electraglide in those days, meant 60mph!) I was briefly stopped by a trooper who, out of concern for my health (mental?) asked me if I realized that it was 17 degrees outside. I assured him that I did, and THAT was why I was heading south to Florida!
     In southern Virginia, my luck ran out. The vicious estorm had moved in faster than prdicted, and, at 3PM I was slowly riding in the right hand tire track of an 18-wheeler, as the snow accumulated quickly all around. I gave up the ghost at 4PM, and turned into a motel right at the exit ramp, a few miles from North Carolina. There was already 3 inches of snowfall on the colder surfaces.
    The next day, I awoke to an incredibly striking silence...and  NINE fresh inches of snow on the ground!!! And, I noticed, there was aproximately twenty other bikes in the parking lot. We all seemed to be awake and looking gloomily at the unplowed local crossroad...and the CLEARED and salted Interstate just several hundred yards up the entry ramp. I don't remember who moved first, but soon, we had a half dozen shovels in the hands of a score of determined riders. We all took turns shoveling a four-foot wide path from that parking lot, on up to Route 95. It took less than an hour, before engines began to fire uo and bikes began to hit the Highway for the warmth, sun and scene that was and is Daytona Bike Week!!!
     And, as odd as it may sound, several years later, while touring the Harley plant in York, Pennsylvania, I encountered two of those shoveling fools in the SAME tour group that I was in! It was quite the coincidence and quite the reunion!!!

Hope this memory and the ones to follow, warm your Winter weeks.  Mike in New York

[Super Santa]

Think this should be a good thread to pacify many of us for several days.

Thanks for starting it.

[solo1]

That was a great story Mike.   Here's another story. This is just one of my favorite memories.

It was the summer of 1949.  My buddy Vic and I had ridden down to Gatlinburg from Indiana on our Matchless 500cc singles.

This was my first time that I had visited the Great Smokies National Park.   It was a fine clear warm morning.  We had left our motel and Vic was leading going into the park. As for me, I was overwhelmed with the beauty of the Park.  In 1949 none of the traffic we see now was getting in the way of sightseeing.

Wow!  I was especially taken by the view of Mt. Laconte, i stared at it for just a little too long.
When I looked back down my front wheel was at the edge of the pavement. The act of trying to get back to the left was too much, off the pavement I went.  Since it WAS such a nice early morning, the grass was wet with dew. I "laid 'erdown" to keep from getting into the tree line. The lowsiding did no damage as I was riding very slow anyway.  Not a big deal, the Matchless only weighed 300 pounds and it was lying down on the up slope.
of course all this happened fast so Vic, who didn't much pay attention to his rear view mirrors kept on plunking along.  Soon I was by myself.

Now I wasn't in the best frame of mind over this dumb mistake so the adrenalin had kicked in real good.  I stood on the up side of the Matchless and heaved it vertical, then past vertical, then horizontal again, then below horizontal,  with the bike now lying on its right side---------downhill! , SH************T!!!

OK, I can do this.  I got on the downhill side lifted that Matchless again (it seemed heavier now) and brought it back to vertical.  I did the usual drill, retard the spark,  bring the cylinder up on compression stroke using the kick starter, use the compression release to push it halfway through compression, and a final kick to bring the reliable thumper back to life. "Gottermade now" i thought as threw my leg over the seat and lifted the shifter into first gear.  Did I mention that the grass was wet?

Well, about this time, Vic was standing on the road looking down at me and laughing his arse off. He laughed even harder when the rear wheel spun on the wet grass but the bike wouldn't go. I finally persuaded him to come down the slope to help me back up to the road.  The words that I used to "encourage" him weren't used much back in the '40's except in the Service as I later found out.

Vic quit riding shortly after that and is now deceased but I'll never forget that memory.

[Rowdy]

   Got one - Bar Harbor Maine trip    should have done more planning. 

Three of us in the early 80's sometime - Ohio to Bar Harbor Maine and back
I had & still have CB900 Custom, wife had a 440 Kaw LTD, and a friend on a 850 something   

Anyway we took the scenic route, up to Niagra Falls, the river between the countries, the finger lakes in NY, the mountains in Vermount ect, having a great time,  . Finally arived in Bar Harbor, got a motel, was talking about riding down the coast line ect before turning back to Ohio.

  Well, I started calculating how far away from home we where, and how much time we had left on our vacation and started laughing    They thought I was crazy until I showed them how far we had to go and today was Saturday and we needed to be back to work on Monday     We where having so much fun on this trip we completely lost track of time - which was good except for the ride home 

We had to take the freeway (Not a big fan of freeway driving)  a long day and half and into the night  of course the 440 Kaw could not handle this kinda of pressure, we had to stop now and then to let it cool down    - We tried switching bikes to change up our riding positions and to eleveate some of the boredom of highway riding    After me and my friend took out turn on the 440 we no longer volunteered this an option     

It was a great trip, but what we remeber most was the ride home on that miserable highway 

[Popeye]

One of mine is my first real roadtrip.  I had spent years riding around northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin, all day trips.

In 91, I had just pruchased a 85 V65 Magna.  One of my childhood friends also had a 84 V65 Magna.  I let him know I had a bike again and he suggested we take a long trip.  He had a couple under his belt and was ready for another.  I was talking to a friend at work and was about to tell him I was back on two wheels when he says he just bought a 82 V45 Sabre.  I laughed and told him what I  bought and he suggested we take a trip.  I mentioned another friend had said the same thing, so I called him and the wheels were in motion.

One thing I had forgotten to do was clear this with Lizzie.  Took a while but finally got the OK for a weekend trip.  I pressed my luck and asked for 5 days, which I got.

None of us had ever seen the Smoky Moutains and agreed it would be a nice ride.  We kept an eye
on the weather but things were not looking good, rain the entire time we would be there.  The morning of the trip we all watched the weather from home.  Thins looked better if we headed west.
We decided to head to the Big Horn Moutains in Wyoming.

We took off with no plans other than where we were going and had a blast.  Got a late start so
only made it to western Iowa.  Can't remember the name of the town we stopped at looking for a hotel but all the rooms were booked.  One hotel owner said she had a friend with a hotel 10 miles away, would we be willing to ride some more.  She called her friend, said she had 3 guys on bikes and they need a room.  She hung up the phone a gave us directions.

Of course we stopped at Wall Drug on the way out there also, all the signs make you curious.

Stopped in Sturgis, it was the ending weekend of the rally, still plenty of bikes. Got a t-shirt for
$5, Lizzie recently tossed it out, the collar was looking pretty bad.

Made it to the Big Horn Moutains and got a cabin for the night.  Walked down for dinner and beers
and drank way too much. We laughed a lot that night and met a lot of interesting people at the
bar.

Got a late start the next morning and started  heading home. 

I was hooked, have taken many trips since then and they all are great memories but you never forget your first one.

[hubcapsc]

Most of my bike time has been on dirt bikes - on awesome (and now unavailable) single track in the nearby mountains
and on all the local motocross tracks.

I'm not the fastest Valkyrie rider, and I never was the fastest motocross rider either. You can't buy or
develop the "killer instinct" or otherwise become a "type A" person if you're really a "type B" kind
of guy at heart, but you can go to the gym and run and stuff in order to build up a little more ability
to push your open class motocross bike through a whole moto without turning into a limp noodle,
and I did go to the gym pretty regular for a year or two in the mid 80's... and it paid off. I'll never forget
a particular day as my buddies all stood on the edge of the track near a double jump cheering me on as I stayed in
front of another rider who dogged me lap after lap but never managed to pass me. They even took
this picture, which is another reason I'll never forget that particular day:



Street bikes were never very exciting for me until I found out about Valkyries and the VRCC... 

-Mike

[Rowdy]

  I got another one 

Smokey mountains - on the Parkway in the fog at night, 5 of us in the 80's sometime

We where riding the parkway into Asheville when night snuck up on us pretty quick, with fog & drizzle rain, could barley see the taillights in front of us    - we finally eased ourselves off the mountain  into Ashville.

Could not find a place to stay, all the hotels where booked and we where all beat & wet    Finally we pulled off at a rest stop and tried making due with what was availble which was an open shelter house. Of course we had a Harley rider with us, he did not want to leave his bike in the parking lot out of sight    We got as comfortable as we could on the cement slab without any camping gear when the State Troper stoped by     He was nice enough to let us stay but made the Harley guy move his bike 

[sugerbear]

my favorite is a recent one, 2008.
my first ride out west. i've seen the rockies before, just not from the seat of a bike.
the bike in front is our best friends, we've vacationed with them for 23 years.

started out with 2 suburbans, our 3 kids and their 3 kids.
now it's just the four of us.
we've done the north route(Mich, Minn)
we've done the east coast
we've done the west(well, part of it anyway)
next june we'll be going to key west.
would like to do the southwest sometime.

[fudgie]

Havent ridden as long as you all but my '1st' solo trip is my best. Was getting divorced in 06. June I figured I'm heading to Stugis. None of my friends wanted to go so I went solo. Just met Kit a month or 2 before. I left and 12 miles from home it poured. Stopped and put on rain gear. 2 miles later it was sunny an 85 deg. Found a rest stop in Bettendorf IA and rolled out the air mattress and sleeping bag. Next morning I awoke after half ass night of sleep, at 8a. Soon as I hit I-90 in SD the winds were severe. I stopped every 50 miles to rest my head, dang helmet caught all the wind and pulled on my neck. Finally at dark the wind suddenly stopped. I rolled into the Buffalo Chip at 11p the same day. I was pooped. They couldn't let me in since I had paid for tomorrow and they were closing before midnight. Rolled out the mattress and bag next to my scoot and had the best night of sleep ever. Woke up, found my pants and enjoyed my week of riding and partying. Getting a little bored by myself so I decided to head home a day early. Plus I only had $30 in my! I decided to hit Wounded Knee and go thru Nebraska. It was 105 deg going thru there. Stopped in Gordon NE and drank 3 bottles of water I had with me. Of coarse I already ditched the helmet that morning and continued to ride in NE without it.  5 hours of riding in NE I ask a cop if its a helmet state. Yep, dam my big mouth! Stopped at the 1st rest stop in IA I came to. It was 1a. Laying on the ground I felt water. Woke up and it was storming big time. Great. I headed to the rest rooms and laid between the mens/womens till about 8a. Hooked up with a harley chic a hour later and we rode all the way to Ind at 90 mph and I was home by 5p. The next night I rode to a party about 40 miles away and Kit and I did it all over again.

[Mike M in ohio]

Gonna add another:
    It was the latter eighties. I was an honored member of the Harley-Davidson Dresser and Touring Association. (The true precursor to the HOG Club) This club allowed only full dressed Harley Electraglides in its ranks.
     Well, then Harley CEO Vaugne Beales desperately wanted to push his new Sport Toring Harley, the FXRT. (A sportier version of the Superglide, with hard bags and a bubble-like fairing) He asked that we accept the RT into our club, but most members were turned off bu its odd, thin styling. So, to encourage it's acceptance, Mr Beales gave his own personal version of the FXRT to the club for ALL to test ride, as long as necessary.
    My Brother was mounted on that bike one night (at one of the earliest Americades) as we rode North through the Adirondacks. We ended up at a small tavern/restaurant in Schroon Lake, where we had some food and "liquid" refreshment. Naturally, my Brother had secured his special rig with double locks and chains.
     After our meal, we emerged from the eatery, to a brisk dark night. As I slipped my key into my Dresser's tank-mounted ignition swith, I blurted: "Last one to the motel is an A--hole." As I roared off, my brother struggled to undo and store his locks. We then raced some 30 miles through winding, darkened unfamiliar mountain roads...whooping as the lead changed several times.
     When we reached the Ramada...we looked at each other and realized the risk we took, on a very important bike. The bike never made it into the club. But I have to admit, we were BOTH impressed by its handling.......and its very forgiving nature!!!

[bigdog99]

20 years old just me and the wife. we packed up everything we thought we would need and started out. the plan was to stop by her moms and wave good bye. we started up the motorcycle and immediately saw the steam comin g out of the exhaust. Wow it was 42 degrees. We also had at the time a 1978 Yamaha 750. i took all the money i could scrape up and put on a back rest and rack. we borrowed a duffle bag and rain gear from her brother. He is 5'6" tall. i am 6'1" tall. needless to say the rain suit did come to my knees when i sat down. Oh, did i say it was raining? So, We took off went by the mother in laws to wave good bye. When i got into her culdesac we went around and waved, i then popped a wheely outof the road. not the best thing to do i found out several years later. Any way, it was cold, it was wet but it was early in the morning.  We rode 11hours that day and it got to 43 and still rained. allllllllll day. We stopped in mid missouri. we sat and tried to have a conversation, but my teeth were clanging faster than i could talk. So, we decided to got to bed. We of course got the spare room. when we layed down we quickly found out they had metal springs. we shook hard enough the bed squeaked most of the night. we started laughing most of the night. we got weird looks in the morning. We scratched the frost off of the motorcycle seat in the morning and road all day cold again. when we stopped at the Stuckey's for a peee, we were stuck in the rest room for 25 minutes trying to get our fingers warm enough to unzip our pants. we of course make our plans later in the year now... lesson definatley learned.

[Oss]

Bonnie and I rode down to DOTS taking the Skyline Drive into the BRP
(which I always had thought stood for Bronx RIver Parkway) We were towing the trailer and there
was rain on and off the whole way.
We stayed at Peaks of Otter which is like a magical place to walk around the lake in the evening
sit outside and watch the deer and the bats and see all the stars.
Anyways the next morning we are riding south and at places the fog lifts vertically almost like a reverse
waterfall as it rises over the road from right to left above us
Since the visibility is very poor, I am looking hard for where the road will turn next and briefly look up at some rocky ledge ahead and to my left and see up there is this eagle or falcon sitting above.  It opens its wings and just kinda steps off the ledge and.........whamo it is soaring like it was launched off a carrier and it is way up there
We got off the parkway soon after that to go down to take 81 so we could make time
Later that week we got to meet some fine deep south folks and rode with Magoo, Bird and Moonshine, Warlock and Cathy and Rusty and Donna to Maggie Valley but that is another story

[czuch]

I was 15 and had a '65 honda 160. I rode that thing all around SoCal. One day it just quit.
We kicked and kicked but she was done. Probably all that maintenance a 15 year old is aware of.
I called Dad who was unaware I had a bike to come and get us. We werent smart enough to roll the bike behind the building we were waiting at. 20 miles away from home. Of course Dad knew all about everything but didne say anything. That weekend he asked if we wanted to go back and get my bike in the truck. I dug a real nice garden that weekend also.

[Nodrog]

Last summer, I was stopped at a red light, on a 4 lane highway, on the way to work.  A black 90s Trans AM pulls up beside me.  I noticed he had some nice looking chrome wheels, the exhaust sounded like it had a bit less restriction, and it had a loping idle.  When the light turned green, I only accelerated fast enough to stay even with his front wheel, and he was not driving agressively either.
Then I heard it, he mashed the pedal and his engine roared.  Now, I'm no drag racer.  I just don't practice full speed launches from a dead stop.  But, from a 10mph roll, I can grab a hand full of throttle just as good as the next guy....so I did.  By the time I clicked into third gear, I had 2 or 3 car lengths on him, and let off to resume my normal cruising speed.  He must have let off too, because he never did come up beside me.

[ArmyValker]

Was riding a 77 GL1000 *oldwing* to work one morning a few years back, and got through with the 11 miles of windy 2 lane between my house and the highway.. everytime I shifted I heard a soft "clunk" that was not normally there, and I knew there was something up, but I was running late and didn't wanna stop.

Anyway, I get on the on ramp to the superslab portion of my work commute and grabbed a handful of throttle to beat this semi that was lumbering down the road. I get up to 70 mph and cranked it one more time to jump out in front  of this guy when I hear "BANG! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH" suddenly my engine is reving and my rear wheel is locking and unlocking causing me to damn near lose control of the bike. Additionally, there's still a semi going 70mph behind me and I'm still not positive I'm going to remain sunny side up until I can stop. Anyway, I somehow manage to keep the bike upright and pull over on the gravel shoulder and come to a stop, and not *#&@ my pants.

You can guess what happened, broken u joint, it was spinning and catching and spinning and catching, and by the time I got it stopped there was no u joint left. Anyway, I'm sitting there on the side of the highway and this fella in a very old pickup pulls up (old dog in the front seat) and says "You need a ride somewhere partner?" I told him I'd appreciate it if he could give me a lift to my house, and he says "Be right back..." about 10 minutes later, he pulls up with a motorcycle trailer and helps me load my bike and drives me back to my house.

He wouldn't take any money for it, just a handshake and invited me to hang out with his club sometime (MC Club). Pretty nice guy, and an HD rider even!

[valkmc]

I left Central Florida one summer morning at around 6am, I was on my 1 year old 1998 Valk. My boss argeed to let me have two weeks off. I had no plans, no reservations, and no one with me. In the next two weeks I visited Ashville, Gatlinburg, Nashville and Memphis. I rode a little on the Blue Ridge, and The Natchez Trace parkways. I ended up in a KOA in New Orleans, I spent the last 4 days of my vacation staying up until dawn and sleeping all day in a tent. I still stay in touch with some of the people I met, most of them on bikes. I have had many rides that lasted longer but that is the only one I set out on with no plans to meet anyone and no particular destination. The last leg of the ride started in New Orleans at about 4 pm. I rode along the Gulf, as close to it as possible and reached Central Florida the next day at 6am. Very clear night, warm, upper 70's and the 4th of July. It was the last time I rode all night.

[Rowdy]

I have another one     West Virginia hospitality 

Me and Jan use to drop down into West Va a lot on weekends and of course she has some family down in them hills    One afternoon her chain broke on her Magna on one of those back country roads - a local near by let us put her bike in their garage, then we rode double down to her cousin's bar out in the sticks (country) she called around and found us a guy that had some bike experience.
He came by with a truck and we went back, got the bike, took it to his garage, he got talking seems he use to ride a bike in the cage (globe) for fairs ect - he fixed us up and repaired the chain and did not ask for any money. Just helping out fellow bikers

Jan would like to ride down into West Virginia alone sometimes  if I had to work  Couple times she either got lost or had bike trouble, and again the locals would just help her out and not ask for any money  She had a way of making friends easily - she will be missed in my future eventures

[Mike M in ohio]

One more favorite:
     The wife and I managed to coordinate two weeks off together. So we loaded up and mounted our Royal Star and began a very ambitious tour. We circled the outer circumference of New York State, crossed into Vermont near the Canadian border, angled South along the length of Route 11, then ran further east into New Hampshire, where we rolled back north into the White Mountain region. We eventually crossed the width of Maine, dashed through New Brunswick and proceded to tour the northern shore of Nova Scotia.
     It was around the time that we were meandering through the gorgeous Canadian Loop known as the Cape Breton Trail, that I proclaimed: "We've seen signs warning of Moose in Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, New Brunswick and here in Nova Scotia. Yet, we haven't spotted one darn Moose! I think it's all just a tourist scam."
     Well, we rounded a bend, and right on the shoulder (not more than 15 feet away) was a HUGE female moose. We stopped and photographed for several minutes, as she casually munched some shrubbery.
     After we continued along that forested roadway, I jokingly said. "I don't know if we should even count THAT moose, because the ones on the signs have antlers!"
     As you've probably guessed, around the very next curve, stood a MASSIVE Bull Moose, about thirty feet off the road, standing proudly in some low grasses. We got some pics and I suddenly realized: We had spotted NO moose in the course of 2400 miles, and now had seen TWO in a half mile span! Those fabulous surprises make motorcycling so incredible!                  Mike

[hubcapsc]

We had spotted NO moose...

..."meese"...

-Mike

[Rowdy]

  Got another one - 

My fellow riders have not trusted my instinks since this ride  early 00"s sometime

Riding through SE Ohio and I got this bright idea we could take this back country road and cut off some miles to the highway that we normally use to get back to Nerk  Well this country road turned into a one lane unaproved road through thru a national forest  game preserve     Finally hit an intersection, the road to the right was uphill, not drivable unless you had a dirt bike or a horse, the other ended at a pond  ???  Noted a car parked by the pond and found some fisherman. Asked for some directions, said they could not tell us but would guide us back out to the highway.  I was for using my natural born instinks to find the highway the rest of the group voted against my plan    - So we followed the fisherman thru the back one lane unaproved roads for miles (a little further than I anticiapted)  they got us back to the highway just about where I expected to end up in the first place 

They had trusted my instinks in the past when I found ways to navigate around unexpected detours  not that time and never again - I actually like the sense of adventure of the unknown 

[Momz]

The summer of 1975.

I was laid off work in the middle of June. My girlfriends retired father passed away in May. I was to report to the unemployment office every two weeks to collect a check and my girlfriend got a Social Security check at the start of the month. I had saved enough money to get a decent motorcycle (66 BSA Lightning). Since we were both somewhat longing for a change of pace we decided to ride two-up to Arizona. We had no real plans, just go on an adventure and see where life took us.

Well that summer we rode to Arizona and back to Detroit four times in a two month period. We had just the bare essentials and a set of Whitworth wrenches. Learned to change tires, adjust the clutch and carbs, change oil, replace sprockets and chain on the side of the road. We slept in parks, rest areas, barns, and in every type of weather imaginable. We bathed in rivers, ponds, snuck into motel pools late at night. We ran out of gas numerous times and pushed that bike for miles. We ate cheap, most times sharing a single meal. We looked like hell most of the time, but we just laughed it off. We were chased out of some towns as vagrants and welcomed by a few christian enclaves. But we had the chance to see the real historic and nostalgic America (Route 66, the Lincoln Highway, small towns, family farms, communes, rail depots etc.).
 
Two months on an old motorcycle with your best friend can leave you with a lifetime of memories.

[Black Dog]

Two months on an old motorcycle with your best friend can leave you with a lifetime of memories.

That's what it's all about...  Best one yet Momz 

Black Dog

[fudgie]

Good job momz. Thats the kinda biker stories I like to hear! 

[FryeVRCCDS0067]

In 86 or 87 my nephew and I took off on the first bike trip either one of us had been on. He was on his shadow and I was on my V65 magna. It would have been around the first of June if I remember right. The only thing we planned was that we were leaving from my house in Brazil Indiana and heading for Myrtle Beach. I didn’t own a rainsuit, gloves or jacket. Just figured I’d wear a flannel shirt if I got cold. My nephew was outfitted much the same as me.

Of course we hit cold weather, rain and hail crossing the mountains. We stopped and bought trash bags to make rainsuits out of and wore socks on our hands to try and keep warm. The socks didn’t help much but certainly made a fashion statement.

We had a ball at the beach, stayed in a motel just across the road from the ocean. On the roof was a large deck just made for drinking rum and cokes. The single lady who owned the place did our laundry for us and we hung out with her some. One late afternoon after we had spent the day drinking, swimming and lounging on the roof one of the locals showed up in the parking lot in a Vette to visit with the owner. When he started to leave his battery was dead. Although I wouldn’t have ridden on a public road in the condition I was in, I did ride a great wheelie across the parking lot to the Vette. Someone had a set of jumpers and I jump started the Vette with my V65, then parked it back in front of my room.

Greg and I both bought cheap rainsuits before heading home. The legs of mine filled with air on the way home and exploded. Loudly! After which shards of them melted on my pipes. The V65 could eat up pavement at an amazing rate and is still the only new motorcycle I’ve ever owned and also the fastest bike I’ve owned.

I don't know that the above is my favorite riding memory but I know it's close.

[Rowdy]

I'm sorry, I have a lot of favorite rides 

Could not help myself - had to show a couple Harleys they did not own the road 

Me and Jan were coming home from a weekend of riding, me on my IS and her on her V65 Magna, we were riding conservitively because we were low on gas and was looking for the next gas station  when this couple on their respective Harley's buzzed around us like we where standing still  did not even wave.  Kinda shrugged it off, found a gas station, filled up and went on our way.  About 10 miles down the road we hit a detour sign - we'll to my suprise the 2 Harley riders that had passed us showed up at the same intersection accros the road in the oposing direction - aparently they did not find a way around the detour    then they turned in the direction we where going to have to go - we waved and again they did not acknowledge our presence      That did it,  I turned to Jan you ready ? - We caught up with them in no time and they could not shake us, back country road nice set of curves  had fun - we waved when they turned off - still no response 

Similar incident with croch rockets  different ride, about 6 of them showed up behind us as when we where enjoying a ride next the river, you could hear the high engine revs, we waved them around, not a one of them waved to thank us for letting them by  Shruged it off, then I seen them turn down a highway about a mile up the road away from the river on to a curvy road,  I had that little devil on my shoulder  told me to catch them    It was little harder, but we caught up to the tail end of that pack within a few miles before they turned off - and again they did not wave 

I know, I have to quit picking on these guys - after all they don't make Valk's anymore 
 

[Popeye]

I enjoy the stories like Momz posted.  Read several on the GWRRA pages, one couple took 3 trips, if I remember right, one was 15 months long.  Each trip I take gives me memories for a lifetime.

[R J]

My most memorable ride was in the summer of 1983.   I was still a CHiP, and was supposed to go on a 3 week trip with some of my partners.   As the time got closer,  1 at a time was backing out.   Kind of peesed me off, but I still made our planned trip, with 2 modifications.    Took my  7 year old youngest daughter instead, and got state capital pictures, plus a couple of Canadian Providences.
We were coming out of Canada, was in line to go through the check point, and I was directed to the left around the building.  They wanted to check out my trailer, it was a stage coach I had built.   They turned us loose and instead of going back around the building, I’m headed back into Canada.   They were waving and hollering at us and we waved back.    About that time I remarked that we were lost.       One thing you do not do is tell a 7 year old you are lost.    She screamed bloody murder,  had a bunch of people giving me the eye when they heard her screaming.     I was telling her “daddy could find his way back home,” she wasn’t buying it.   
Finally got to a phone, and called her mother to reassure her, that yes, daddy could get her home safe and sound.      We were about 2,200 miles from home at the time.   She was my map reader and was a good one, she knew what part of the country we were in, but couldn’t find our highway in Canada on a US map.

She settled down, she told me we were not lost, we were just seeing different country.  She said mom told her that, so I told her we were headed back to Customs, went through and headed for a small Motel somewhere with a swimming pool.  We went on through Detroit and stopped West of there, at a very nice mom & pop Motel.   She loved the water and I knew if I got her in a pool she would be a OK.
She is an adult now with 2 kids and still will never say she is lost.   It is still seeing different country or different part of the Mall, or whatever fits the current location.

She has rode all 50 states on a motor with me.   All of the lower 48, except for the Eastern Border, that was what we did on that trip, on a Gold Wing SEi,  and Alaska was on the Valkyrie.  Hawaii was on a rented Harley when her and her husband made the trip over in 2000 with us.
This is her oldest daughter on her 1st bike ride.   It was a whole 5’ before she wanted off and the motor wasn’t even started.  I was just turning it around, forward and backward by foot power.

Set on bike she said.  so we did.



Want a ride, yes,



Haven't got a picture of the yelling and screaming as her mother was the picture taker.    She took her off the seat, put her down.

Now this is her pride and joy.

[Rowdy]

The start of our Adventure together  Aug 1974 ended in May 2009 

Had a hard time convincing our families that we would really be riding bikes from the church on our wedding day - but it was a big hit  would have had a few more bikes, but we had a lot of skepitical partisipants      -  I had forgot to bring Jan's helemet, my buddy said I could use his 900 Kaw which he had bored out to a 1000cc to go back to the house to get the helmet    Darn thing had a whole lot more torque than my 500 cc Honda , I was not expecting that much power   Took off so fast the wind knocked my face shield down to my chin  - Kinda like the power of a Valk 

For 35 years we had at least 2 motorcycles in the garage and as many as 8 - great time 

Now it's time for a new chapter in bike riding  - It does help take away the tension 

[Rowdy]

  I have another a more recent memory 

The day the marines landed on the shores of southern Ohio 

About 2 summers ago I rode with a bunch of marine vets into Kentucky to visit the grave site of one of the marines that hoisted the flag at Iwo Jima. The pack leader deicied to treat us with a fairy ride back accross the river into, Ohio  The ramp into the fairy was a nicely paved road, however the exit ramp on the Ohio side was less than desirable    It was a steep grade, all gravel and the only semi level spot was to the top of the grade on the berm of the road (Busy road at that  )  Since their was about 20 bikes, the plan was the first 5 to get to the top the hill, the next 5 would start up as the first 5 turned down the highway and we would rally at a parking lot further down the road    Plans never go as expected 

The first wave started their turn on the highway - ooops one bike turned a little to close into another bike and they locked handlebars  - Well the second wave started up and had to stop in the middle of the grade or find a spot on the berm    consequently the bike with a passenger lost his footing in the gravel, the bike went down  at this point we had bikers trying to find a place to park to help the marines in distress  now the 3rd wave was starting up the hill trying to find a place to go and 4th wave was being rudly persuaded to depart from the fairy by a laddy that seemed to like to use her horn, as if we had planned this whole thing to make her day miserable 

I was in the 3rd wave, got around the mess, no place to park, looked back and seen my buddy was stuck in the gravel, he had a VTX with a Voyger kit, he was not getting any traction, and the laddy behind him was blasting on her horn  - I made it to the top and crossed the road and parked on the oposite berm, not much room, but I had to get back help the others

In a way it was cool, the marines where helping the distressed marines, as would any biker bunch would, just reminded me of a typical military assult beach landing complete with casualities 
We all finally made it to the rally point  only the passenger on one bike had a minor scrap on his arm - see what happens when you get a bunch of marines together 

[fudgie]

Might get flamed for this but its a memory!  
Sturgis 08-we tried a new campground on the out skirts of town. GiG was heading out from IZ in TN and showed up late afternoon. We hit a Kid Rock concert that night. (that is a whole nother story in itself!   )Our last night together we decided to party up at the lodge. GiG decided to get rid of his old jeans and make them into shorts. I took a pant leg and put it on the ball of my hitch. Threw some Malibu rum and a bottle of jack in the saddle bag and we head up to the lodge. It was maybe a 5 min ride thru pasture and a creek or 2. We get up to the lodge and some canadians, maybe 6, are sitting at a picnic table. They ask about the pants. Kit says without missing a beat, 'we ran over a Harley and all we crap out was his pants!'   They laughed and we hung around with them for a few hours. We met a couple from LA and a young couple from CO. We ended up getting really rowdy so the staff came over and sat at our table and stared at us. Well the ladies had to put pasties on.   As night went on we partied like never before. GiG got talking about the guy from LA trailering. Dam near came to blows. finally around 3 or 4am we were empty and decided to head back to camp for a few hours of sleep. I couldn't get my bike off the kick stand for some reason.   Well after Kit pushed the bike upright and got on we were on the way and rather loud. We get back to camp she asked if I needed help getting it back on the stand. 'F-it! If it falls we can pick it up in the morning!' It was a stary night out and GiG was amazed. He said he dont see stars like this in Detroit. He pulled out of camp late morning and our tent neighbors were wondering what the heck went on this morning cause I guess we were a little loud and he could recite everything we said!   Ah, good times.  

Canada friends

The group
http://lh3.ggpht.com/_8lZys4YJgRo/SKHZf4zGpkI/AAAAAAAAA1M/h2WhcnWK7R0/s640/S5031180.JPG

[Momz]

I belong to a group of misfits called the "Question Authority Motorcycle Gang" and on monday nights we have our own Bike Night in Plymouth MI.

Iwas on my way to Plymouth when I decided to stop by my brothers house to see if he or my nephew might want to come along. Neither was home, so I just pulled away from the curb when my brothers neighbor blasted out of his driveway. He was on a Harley softail of sort. We both got to the corner and we both turned right; he has just slightly ahead of me, and I just couldn't have that. I sped up to pass him and as I got just slightly ahead, he grabs a hand full of throttle and passes me but he had to brake very hard as we were just about near an intersection with a red light.

He looks over at me and guns his throttle; well the light turned green and we both took off. By the time I hit third gear he was well behind me. We got stopped at the next intersection, and of course when that light turned green it was the same scenario as before. And this happened again at the next intersection/stoplight.

Well I finally turned of and on to the parkway and he continued going straight. I got to the gathering in town and parked in my usual spot, got a coffee, and started socializing with our gang. A few minutes later that same Harley rider turns onto the gathering spot, parks his bike and starts to look around and then he spots my bike, then me. He walks up and asks where I put the nitrous bottle on my bike. What bottle?...I ask. He says that I must have nitrous because he has never lost a single streetrace to any jap cruiser yet.

I politely invited him to look as hard as he may. As he said that I must have somehow cheated, because he had put several thousands of dollars into his motor and that "even those crotch rocket jockeys" wouldn't race him.

Several of the gang members were now listening, smiling and laughing quietly. I asked if I could buy him a cop of coffee, but he declined and just got on his bike and left.

Several days later I went to visit my brother and nephew and spotted that bike in front of his neighbors house with a "For Sale-Cheap" sign on it. My brother said that he had blown-up the motor while racing. He was on the porch as I smiled and waved at him. He went inside very quickly.

The End