radman
R.I.P. Our Motorcycling Friend
Will be 55 in June. I was 11 years old (and big for my age) when we went to a big family thing at my Aunt Pearls farm (that should date me). My Uncle Johnny showed up on an Indian Chief or some such, but it was an Indian. I was enthralled, of course, and talked him into a ride. When we got back, I said how I wished to own such a machine, and my Uncle, slightly inebriated as always, said as to how I "could ride it anytime", and with a chuckle, all went inside. Well, being the observant little bastard I was, it wasn't 2 minutes later that the family rushed outside to see me hightailing it down that 'ol country road, the Injun fishtailing as I discovered torque. Got the living shit whipped out of me upon my successful return, worth every lash, my mother damn near shot the uncle for saying what he did to the budding motornut she knew me to be. Bought a 58 BSA in 1966, a new XLCH (which I still own) in 1967, and have never looked back.
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