TreAdidas
02-16-2004, 01:38 PM
Part I
So how is it that Chuck decided to buy a motorcycle even though he lives in the Midwest and could only reasonably expect to use the machine for 4 months out of the year?
Well…
Approximately 1984
I suppose my having been bitten by the motorcycle bug goes back to a time when the look was all about the Kangaroos, MTV was a new phenomenon and I had yet to learn how to tie my own shoe. One of my earliest, if not the earliest memory I have is of me sitting in the front of my first house, sitting on what was essentially a Smurf themed big-wheel, watching some fellow, whom I believe was a neighbor living across the street from us, ride down the sidewalk on a mini bike. He must have been working on the bike all afternoon as I watched from across the street. The bike was red and required a vice wrench to be connected to the linkage in order to shift. It must have been a Honda. At any rate, he got the machine to function and proceeded to ride up and down the sidewalks. I was hooked. A vehicle which was similar to my own plastic Smurf, but it was self-propelled! From this point on I had acquired a subconscious drive to ride and to make sure that my vehicle of choice was not a Honda.
1998
1998 was a pivotal year. This year I obtained my driver’s license and my father hit his midlife crisis. How is the simultaneous occurrence of these events significant? The driver’s license gave me unprecedented mobility and was the first step towards owning a bike and my father’s mid-life crisis prompted the purchase of an early release 1999 Kawasaki Vulcan Nomad. This was the first motorcycle to be owned by anyone in my family, in my lifetime. At the time, this was the largest displacement bike available for purchase. I remember when this big daddy finally showed up. It was absolutely gorgeous. The delivery team pulled this bike out of the back of their truck, slowly lowered it and pushed it into our garage. The bike was beautifully crafted, with tear-drop-shape saddlebags and fuel tank, an extremely large front fender, a gleaming v-twin motor, beautiful two piston callipered brakes, and chrome accents from top to bottom. It was painted candy red with deep purple accents. This massive beast was mounted atop five spoke Enkei rims. I feel that the tear drop design was quite appropriate considering this machine quite possibly has the ability to make even grown men cry. All I could think was: “I gots to get me one of dese!” To this day, I firmly believe this is the most beautiful production cruiser ever.
1999
In February, I purchased my first car. I was formulating a plan which allowed me to pay this off by July and then get a bike, which if you would have asked I swore up and down would be a Suzuki Katana 600, blue of course. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately if you considered the impending Katana mistake, in April, one of my friends rear ended me on the way to prom, totaling this car.
In late July, my buddy Pete, whom some of you met at Pat and Oscar’s before I left, purchased a 1989 Kawasaki Ninja 250. What’s the difference between the 1989 model and the 2003 model? Not a thing. This bike, however, managed to keep my interest in sport bikes alive and well.
As summer wound down and I was sick of driving a 1986 cargo van which was affectionately referred to as “the shaggin’ wagon,” although I can assure my mere ownership of this beast impeded my ability to engage in any of that. I tried to convince myself that I could just tough out the Ohio Valley winter on a bike. Unreasonable you ask? Psh! I’m 17 nothing is unreasonable! My dad talked me out of it, having been convinced of the same thing when he was 17 when he purchased his first motorcycle. So less than a month later on September 9, 1999, I purchased my current car, the 1994 Nissan Altima. I vowed that upon completion of the payments of the car, which was coincidentally slated for my birthday on November 9th of 2003, that I would immediately thereafter own a motorcycle.
So how is it that Chuck decided to buy a motorcycle even though he lives in the Midwest and could only reasonably expect to use the machine for 4 months out of the year?
Well…
Approximately 1984
I suppose my having been bitten by the motorcycle bug goes back to a time when the look was all about the Kangaroos, MTV was a new phenomenon and I had yet to learn how to tie my own shoe. One of my earliest, if not the earliest memory I have is of me sitting in the front of my first house, sitting on what was essentially a Smurf themed big-wheel, watching some fellow, whom I believe was a neighbor living across the street from us, ride down the sidewalk on a mini bike. He must have been working on the bike all afternoon as I watched from across the street. The bike was red and required a vice wrench to be connected to the linkage in order to shift. It must have been a Honda. At any rate, he got the machine to function and proceeded to ride up and down the sidewalks. I was hooked. A vehicle which was similar to my own plastic Smurf, but it was self-propelled! From this point on I had acquired a subconscious drive to ride and to make sure that my vehicle of choice was not a Honda.
1998
1998 was a pivotal year. This year I obtained my driver’s license and my father hit his midlife crisis. How is the simultaneous occurrence of these events significant? The driver’s license gave me unprecedented mobility and was the first step towards owning a bike and my father’s mid-life crisis prompted the purchase of an early release 1999 Kawasaki Vulcan Nomad. This was the first motorcycle to be owned by anyone in my family, in my lifetime. At the time, this was the largest displacement bike available for purchase. I remember when this big daddy finally showed up. It was absolutely gorgeous. The delivery team pulled this bike out of the back of their truck, slowly lowered it and pushed it into our garage. The bike was beautifully crafted, with tear-drop-shape saddlebags and fuel tank, an extremely large front fender, a gleaming v-twin motor, beautiful two piston callipered brakes, and chrome accents from top to bottom. It was painted candy red with deep purple accents. This massive beast was mounted atop five spoke Enkei rims. I feel that the tear drop design was quite appropriate considering this machine quite possibly has the ability to make even grown men cry. All I could think was: “I gots to get me one of dese!” To this day, I firmly believe this is the most beautiful production cruiser ever.
1999
In February, I purchased my first car. I was formulating a plan which allowed me to pay this off by July and then get a bike, which if you would have asked I swore up and down would be a Suzuki Katana 600, blue of course. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately if you considered the impending Katana mistake, in April, one of my friends rear ended me on the way to prom, totaling this car.
In late July, my buddy Pete, whom some of you met at Pat and Oscar’s before I left, purchased a 1989 Kawasaki Ninja 250. What’s the difference between the 1989 model and the 2003 model? Not a thing. This bike, however, managed to keep my interest in sport bikes alive and well.
As summer wound down and I was sick of driving a 1986 cargo van which was affectionately referred to as “the shaggin’ wagon,” although I can assure my mere ownership of this beast impeded my ability to engage in any of that. I tried to convince myself that I could just tough out the Ohio Valley winter on a bike. Unreasonable you ask? Psh! I’m 17 nothing is unreasonable! My dad talked me out of it, having been convinced of the same thing when he was 17 when he purchased his first motorcycle. So less than a month later on September 9, 1999, I purchased my current car, the 1994 Nissan Altima. I vowed that upon completion of the payments of the car, which was coincidentally slated for my birthday on November 9th of 2003, that I would immediately thereafter own a motorcycle.