Motorcycle Views

Wild Motorcycle Tales

Here's a great story from Zero. Got your own story? Send it to me.

Spook's Coffee

My story can just about top any I've heard from anyone about Spook's, and every word of it is the truth. Matter of fact, I have many tales of visits to Spook's.

I was 17 in 1965 and was doing odd jobs and welding for an old inventor-machinist-1930s-sprint-car-driver. He was possibly one of the smartest men I've ever come across in my 65 years.

The old boy had been a lifelong friend of Spook's—he always called him Franky. The old boy had designed and installed an electric starter and a clutchless foot shifter on his 30s-something Knuckelhead back in the 40s, long before Harley had even thought of such a thing. Spook had financed this new design for what was to become the Dayton Shifter.

This was to be my first visit to Spook's while my friend expected to be scavenging parts and talking business with him.

Spook had closed for the day and had gone to his house. We knocked, and Spook answered the door. He wasn't quite what I had expected.

"Come on in fellows. Set down there. I was just fixin' a fish a guy brought me," he said. In his old shack was a cook stove in the middle of the room with an iron skillet on top containing this nasty looking fish that looked as if it had been a carp in its last life.

Spook said, "You boys want some fish?"

Both of us said, "NO" at the same time.

He said, "How about some coffee?"

Before I could answer, the old boy said, "Yes, we'll have a cup of coffee."

Spook stuck a fork in the fish, flopped it on a plate, and reached for the jar of instant coffee. He proceeded to spoon four large scoops of coffee into the skillet, followed by water, and then started stirring. The two old boys shot the breeze while the coffee was getting hot.

I was looking around the room, and I was beside myself. There were guns of every size and caliber stacked two feet deep around all four walls of every room in the house.

Suddenly Spook said, "Boys, your coffee's done."

He found three cups, looked inside and wiped them out with his shirt-tail. He then poured the coffee/fish gravy in the cups and handed us two.

All I could do was stare in mine, and it looked like it was staring back.

My old buddy started sipping his and gagged while I watched for my chance and dumped mine down the side of the couch.

And that my friends, was the first of many visits with Spook. -- Zero

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