Wild Motorcycle Tales Here's a great story from joe2wheels. Got your own story? Send it to me. The Biker I have been riding motorcycles for about 20 years and can only remember a few times that I've run into what I consider to be a really hardcore biker. I am not referring to what most people think of as a 1%'er. I am talking more about a person that can work miracles with a pocket knife and a roll of duct tape, a true loner, a unique character with the instincts, imagination and survival skills to do battle with and prevail against the gremlins that place most of us at the mercy of 800-roadside assistance and the knowledge and expertise of others. I remember one such character in particular. About 10 years ago, I rode to Bike Week in Daytona with my friend Robert and his girlfriend. She was a cute, petite little thing who rode a blacked out, pumped up Harley Softail Custom. She was good company and fun to ride with, always smiling and never complaining. But, she would not ride more than 400 miles a day. When she hit that mark, the riding was over for the day. However, this story is not about her. Our 400 mile mark on this trip was Perry, FL. where we checked into a small, cheap motel. In the parking lot next to my room, was an ancient chopper in pieces spread out all over the place. There was an old, rough looking guy sitting on the ground next to the bike. He and the bike looked like they belonged to each other. He was sifting through parts and appeared to be putting the bike back together. I spoke to him, and we talked for a little while. He told me he was from somewhere in GA and was on his way to Daytona when his bike broke down in Perry 3 days earlier. He had built the bike himself, putting it together from scratch using a variety of parts. The frame was mostly an old Triumph, and everything else was Heinz 57 or homemade. After breaking down, he took a Greyhound bus from Perry to Tallahassee which was about 45 miles away. He spent a couple of days there going to local shops, digging through their dumpsters and trash piles looking for parts and pieces that he thought would work. He had just made it back to Perry earlier that afternoon and was now in the process of sorting through the various parts, trying to figure out how to put this stuff together and make it work. I would have bet the title on my bike that he would never see Daytona on that thing. Well, I got up early the next morning and he and his bike were gone. I can only assume that he got her put together sometime during the night and rode off. Now to me, that is a really hardcore biker. -- joe2wheels
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||
© 2008 Walter F. Kern. All rights reserved.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You CAN Ride a Bike |
| 10 Ways to Be Safe |
| Latest Pictures |
 |
| Pictures of the Week |
