Rising Son: How My Interest in Motorcycles Started

How My Interest in Motorcycles Started

I guess I have my step father to thank for getting me interested in riding motorcycles.

He had a 1948 Harley Davidson Panhead. He actually built it from junk yard parts. It was actually a 1948 frame, but with a 1952 engine. He built this in his college days after high school. When he joined the Navy, the bike remained in Colorado.

I remember in 1976 the three of us, my and my mother included, drove his Chevy van to Colorado to retrieve it. When he brought it home, he dismantled and begun a long process of putting it all back together.

I think it wasn't until 1984 that he finally put it all back together. I remember him starting it up for the first time. He hopped on to the bike, put his foot on the kick starter, and the damn started up on the first kick. I was floored. I thought for sure he'd had to kick it several times, and play with the carburetor settings for a while.

For the next several years he rode that thing to work and everywhere else. That got his interest in motorcycles back up. He would ride with his buddies to various watering holes.

In 1984, after I graduated high school, he convinced my mother to buy me a used a motorcycle. He bought 1979 Kawasaki KZ400 from a friend of his. It was actually a third-hand bike. It had dented gas tank, and a ripped up seat. It wasn't running because it sat in storage for a couple years.

We took it all apart, and he showed me how to put it all back together. That was my only mode of transporation during my college days, and I rode for three years.

It was actually a lot of fun riding it. My friend Greg ended up buying a Kawasaki KZ450 shortly after, and we would ride everywhere. Those times riding with Greg to the pool hall, to the movies, to everywhere we could think of, is what cemented my interest in motorcycles.

It wasn't just the riding, but riding with a friend, and enjoying the freedom together. Back then, California didn't have a mandatory helmet law. We'd hop on our bikes with a t-shirt, shorts, and sandals, and go all over the place. What fun!

Then in 1988, I had my first accident. I was on my way to work, to downtown Santa Ana, to the library where I was working weekends only. It had rained the night before, and the streets were all wet. I was riding down 4th Street, approaching Grand Ave, when the traffic light turned yellow. I had to make up my mind to go through the light, or stop. I hesitated for a moment, and then noticed several cars on Grand Ave. I decided to stop. There was water and oil on the asphalt near the intersection, and the wheels on my bike locked up, and threw me high side.

I landed on my knee pretty hard and it hurt pretty bad. Fortunately, I had on full gear, including a full-face helmet. That probably saved my life because it took some bad scrapes and gashes.

From that point on, I decided I needed to get a car for commuting to work, especially on rainy days. I bought a 1989 Chevy S10 pickup truck. From that point on, I just stopped riding altogether.

My motorcycle stayed in my garage for several years. Finally, I gave it to Shaun, my nephew. He wanted a motorcycle to work on and ride. I don't think he ever it got it running.

It was until 2004 that my interest in motorcycles grew up again. This time it was neighbor Don Watkins. He told me about the Harley Davidson he wanted to get. He finally decided on the Dyna Wide Glide. He kept talking about it everytime I saw him. So finally, I decided to get one too.

I was originally looking at the Harley Davidson Road King and the Heritage Softail. But when I saw the Yamaha Road Star, which looked like a competitor to the two Harley models, I was sold. It was a more powerful bike, looked really great, but had much lower price tag.

For the next several months, Don and I rode our bikes to all sorts of places. It was just like those college days with Greg. But Don was in the Navy, and often he was gone for weeks or months. I wanted more friends to ride with.

Doing a search on the Internet, I found a club called Southern Cruisers Riding Club, with chapters all over the USA. They had one in Temecula, which was just 15 miles to the south. I met with them, and joined up. I met several people who went on to become good friends of mine. Since then, the Temecula chapter shut down, but we went on to form a new club, the Iron Horses Riding Club, and kept the magic going.

Like in the college days, it was the friends that made riding so much fun.