dragonchef
Well-known member
Excuse the long post. Not sure if this should go in the newbie topics, trip reports or where, so I am throwing it down here. This is a personal story about a boy and his bike...
I started riding when I was in my teens, before I could legally ride. I always loved it. I bought a bike shortly after my 16th birthday. I rode until I accepted my current job working for Uncle Sam in Seoul, South Korea. That was over 17 years ago, and I am still here. When I moved, I put my Suzuki GS in storage. It is still there today...
I always told myself that I would get a new bike when I moved back to the US. Ands the years kept flying by...
August 9th 2006, I was walking home though a wooded ridge on the base here in Seoul. On my path, there is a wall that I leapt down every day, no big deal (about 1 meter). As I approached it (mindlessly) I twisted my ankle, and next thing I know I fell face first off the wall, and landed on some pavers on the bottom. Knocked the wind out of me, as well as all the stuff in my pockets. Brush off, get up, go home and go about my business. Felt ok, but a little queasy later after I ate pizza for dinner. Flash to about 8 hours after the fall, and I can't sleep. I get up to use the restroom, and after finishing, all but pass out. Yell to the wife, who helps me to the car, and over to the base hospital. After 2 hours of the doc guessing (I had already figured it out, but he said no way), he does an ultrasound and finds my gut full of blood. Ruptured spleen, bleeding for 10 hours now. In to surgery, lost 8 pints of blood, out of surgery, and touch and go for 3 days. I was 275 pounds, completely out of shape, never exercised and had every conceivable tube and machine hooked up to me.
Me;
Surgeon that saved my life;
8 days in intensive care later, you might say my outlook changed a bit. Started exercising, and working on decreasing the stress that I seemed to enjoy carrying around so much. I started to think motorcycle. During my daily walks, I noticed that a lot of guys on the base had bike barns. This solved my biggest dilemma, no garage at my quarters. Three months later, I found that the initial trauma had also caused a leakage in my pancreas, so on 9 March, 6 months to the day, I was again opened up (foot long scar), and had that taken care of. This time around, I was in better shape. Less time in the hospital, but 4 weeks off work. With time on my hands, I went to work, started looking. The PX brings in Harley's to sell to the military folks. Easy, just go and plunk down the cash and it's yours. Well, needless to say, I did not want a hog. I looked and looked, and was thinking Suzuki again, but they seemed to offer either Harley imitations, or a selection of boy racer bikes, neither of which tripped my trigger. Time for internet research, and, due to all of you here at the forum, went with the FJR.
Since I have family in Austin TX, I looked at the recommendations as well as pricing, and chose Tony O at Yamaha Sports center in Texarkana. I called him, and he said that he had some available, and I asked him how much deposit I should send. He said, "don't worry about it, you'll be here. And so it went.
On 15 May, I had a business trip scheduled for Chicago, so I decided that I would make my move then. I sent the check to Tony O in mid-April, along with some Skyway sliders and a few other goodies. After I completed my business in Chicago, I flew to Dallas on 5/25 with my wife, picked up a rental and drove the 4 hours to Texarkana. Tony met me, and within about 90 minutes I was on the road to Austin to see my family, with my wife tailing in the rental. Being so recent from the surgery, she was a bit worried about my ability to ride 350 miles after a short break of 17½ years.
My brother-in-law is a multi-generation Texan, who as a singer songwriter is steeped in the highways and byways, so he had mapped out my itinerary from the dealer to Austin. We left Texarkana and headed about an hour down to Jefferson, which is a beautiful old city steeped in history. We stopped at the Excelsior House to look around, as the oldest hotel in Texas, even US Grant stayed there. Beautiful.
We headed out for another 125 or so miles to Palestine, TX, where we spent the night. On the way, it got dark, and we hit some pretty good rain, but there was nothing to prepare me for the bugs....My helmet and the front of the bike were covered!!
The next morning, the FJR’s first gas up was at a classic old, OLD gas station. I was yakking and not paying attention, and the auto shut-off missed and gas went everywhere. I told the guy inside, and he reluctantly came out with a bucket of water and a LIT CIGARETTE IN HIS MOUTH. Worse than that, he tossed the water on the gas....forget about the bike....I was out of there!
Back on the road to Austin, we hit very heavy rain for quite some time. We ended up pulling off for a break, as the sewers were overwhelmed with the water. Who knew that it rained in Texas??
Things cleared up a bit, and we headed in to Taylor, TX, home of Louie Mueller’s BBQ. This is the Vatican, Mecca and Disneyworld all rolled up in one for any serious BBQ fanatic. If you’ve been there, you know. If you have not, there’s no point in tryin’ to splain it.
Back on the road, and the last hour or so to Austin. Great to see family again….had a great time in what has to be one of the most beautiful towns in Texas!
After just a couple of short days, it was back to Texarkana. Always tough to leave….
So on the way back I think that I experienced a number of the plagues, including flood, hail and tornados. I had dressed light, thinking that 5/30 in central Texas meant hot. Well after I got drenched for 4 hours, the temperature never got above 63. I was shivering, so went to Wal-Mart, bought 3 t-shirts and their last sweatshirt in XL, I was revived!
Pulled in to the Yamaha Sports Center, and Tony and crew went to work on the initial 600 mile service (at 745 miles), crated it up for me and got it ready to ship. Meanwhile, Mrs. O was so kind as to take me to the Texarkana airport where I flew to Dallas, spent the night and then came back to Seoul the next day.
Meanwhile, the bike was picked up from Texarkana, trucked to San Francisco, put on a plane to Seoul, and delivered to me on 6/29.
It was great to see that everything was in perfect order, and the bike had finally arrived. I hooked the battery back up and filled the gas (both items were required by the airline), and gave it a test spin in the parking area.
A few last details and I would be on the road that weekend.
Not so fast.
Although I had followed all of the importation rules and customs (US and Korean) rules to the “T”, the customs clearance clerk had entered my name (the owner) as “U.S. Army”. Since it was in Korean, I did not find out until I had got to the Provost Marshall’s vehicle registration division, prepared all the paperwork, and waited the obligatory 2 hours to have my number called. GRRRR. I was told to get the paperwork changed (or change my name). Back to my customs broker, who went back to Korean Customs, who had a single word answer, “impossible”. The bike was grounded. No movement until the SNAFU was cleared up.
Thus began the longest week of my life. Between the broker in the States, Broker in Korea, Army officials, Customs officials and the 4th of July holiday, let’s just say I have permanent teeth imprints in my tongue.
But with any good story, this one has a happy ending…the bike, the license and a happy boy…!
I started riding when I was in my teens, before I could legally ride. I always loved it. I bought a bike shortly after my 16th birthday. I rode until I accepted my current job working for Uncle Sam in Seoul, South Korea. That was over 17 years ago, and I am still here. When I moved, I put my Suzuki GS in storage. It is still there today...
I always told myself that I would get a new bike when I moved back to the US. Ands the years kept flying by...
August 9th 2006, I was walking home though a wooded ridge on the base here in Seoul. On my path, there is a wall that I leapt down every day, no big deal (about 1 meter). As I approached it (mindlessly) I twisted my ankle, and next thing I know I fell face first off the wall, and landed on some pavers on the bottom. Knocked the wind out of me, as well as all the stuff in my pockets. Brush off, get up, go home and go about my business. Felt ok, but a little queasy later after I ate pizza for dinner. Flash to about 8 hours after the fall, and I can't sleep. I get up to use the restroom, and after finishing, all but pass out. Yell to the wife, who helps me to the car, and over to the base hospital. After 2 hours of the doc guessing (I had already figured it out, but he said no way), he does an ultrasound and finds my gut full of blood. Ruptured spleen, bleeding for 10 hours now. In to surgery, lost 8 pints of blood, out of surgery, and touch and go for 3 days. I was 275 pounds, completely out of shape, never exercised and had every conceivable tube and machine hooked up to me.
Me;
Surgeon that saved my life;
8 days in intensive care later, you might say my outlook changed a bit. Started exercising, and working on decreasing the stress that I seemed to enjoy carrying around so much. I started to think motorcycle. During my daily walks, I noticed that a lot of guys on the base had bike barns. This solved my biggest dilemma, no garage at my quarters. Three months later, I found that the initial trauma had also caused a leakage in my pancreas, so on 9 March, 6 months to the day, I was again opened up (foot long scar), and had that taken care of. This time around, I was in better shape. Less time in the hospital, but 4 weeks off work. With time on my hands, I went to work, started looking. The PX brings in Harley's to sell to the military folks. Easy, just go and plunk down the cash and it's yours. Well, needless to say, I did not want a hog. I looked and looked, and was thinking Suzuki again, but they seemed to offer either Harley imitations, or a selection of boy racer bikes, neither of which tripped my trigger. Time for internet research, and, due to all of you here at the forum, went with the FJR.
Since I have family in Austin TX, I looked at the recommendations as well as pricing, and chose Tony O at Yamaha Sports center in Texarkana. I called him, and he said that he had some available, and I asked him how much deposit I should send. He said, "don't worry about it, you'll be here. And so it went.
On 15 May, I had a business trip scheduled for Chicago, so I decided that I would make my move then. I sent the check to Tony O in mid-April, along with some Skyway sliders and a few other goodies. After I completed my business in Chicago, I flew to Dallas on 5/25 with my wife, picked up a rental and drove the 4 hours to Texarkana. Tony met me, and within about 90 minutes I was on the road to Austin to see my family, with my wife tailing in the rental. Being so recent from the surgery, she was a bit worried about my ability to ride 350 miles after a short break of 17½ years.
My brother-in-law is a multi-generation Texan, who as a singer songwriter is steeped in the highways and byways, so he had mapped out my itinerary from the dealer to Austin. We left Texarkana and headed about an hour down to Jefferson, which is a beautiful old city steeped in history. We stopped at the Excelsior House to look around, as the oldest hotel in Texas, even US Grant stayed there. Beautiful.
We headed out for another 125 or so miles to Palestine, TX, where we spent the night. On the way, it got dark, and we hit some pretty good rain, but there was nothing to prepare me for the bugs....My helmet and the front of the bike were covered!!
The next morning, the FJR’s first gas up was at a classic old, OLD gas station. I was yakking and not paying attention, and the auto shut-off missed and gas went everywhere. I told the guy inside, and he reluctantly came out with a bucket of water and a LIT CIGARETTE IN HIS MOUTH. Worse than that, he tossed the water on the gas....forget about the bike....I was out of there!
Back on the road to Austin, we hit very heavy rain for quite some time. We ended up pulling off for a break, as the sewers were overwhelmed with the water. Who knew that it rained in Texas??
Things cleared up a bit, and we headed in to Taylor, TX, home of Louie Mueller’s BBQ. This is the Vatican, Mecca and Disneyworld all rolled up in one for any serious BBQ fanatic. If you’ve been there, you know. If you have not, there’s no point in tryin’ to splain it.
Back on the road, and the last hour or so to Austin. Great to see family again….had a great time in what has to be one of the most beautiful towns in Texas!
After just a couple of short days, it was back to Texarkana. Always tough to leave….
So on the way back I think that I experienced a number of the plagues, including flood, hail and tornados. I had dressed light, thinking that 5/30 in central Texas meant hot. Well after I got drenched for 4 hours, the temperature never got above 63. I was shivering, so went to Wal-Mart, bought 3 t-shirts and their last sweatshirt in XL, I was revived!
Pulled in to the Yamaha Sports Center, and Tony and crew went to work on the initial 600 mile service (at 745 miles), crated it up for me and got it ready to ship. Meanwhile, Mrs. O was so kind as to take me to the Texarkana airport where I flew to Dallas, spent the night and then came back to Seoul the next day.
Meanwhile, the bike was picked up from Texarkana, trucked to San Francisco, put on a plane to Seoul, and delivered to me on 6/29.
It was great to see that everything was in perfect order, and the bike had finally arrived. I hooked the battery back up and filled the gas (both items were required by the airline), and gave it a test spin in the parking area.
A few last details and I would be on the road that weekend.
Not so fast.
Although I had followed all of the importation rules and customs (US and Korean) rules to the “T”, the customs clearance clerk had entered my name (the owner) as “U.S. Army”. Since it was in Korean, I did not find out until I had got to the Provost Marshall’s vehicle registration division, prepared all the paperwork, and waited the obligatory 2 hours to have my number called. GRRRR. I was told to get the paperwork changed (or change my name). Back to my customs broker, who went back to Korean Customs, who had a single word answer, “impossible”. The bike was grounded. No movement until the SNAFU was cleared up.
Thus began the longest week of my life. Between the broker in the States, Broker in Korea, Army officials, Customs officials and the 4th of July holiday, let’s just say I have permanent teeth imprints in my tongue.
But with any good story, this one has a happy ending…the bike, the license and a happy boy…!
Last edited by a moderator:
-------- a good read. Glad all is now OK.
