Since I am sitting here in the office and slightly depressed that I had to cancel going to the NYS Rally because of work commitments; I thought I might start a thread of how we started into this great sport we enjoy.......
My first bike was a Fire Red 1973 Honda SL70 when I was 14yrs old. A friend of my family, a lifelong rider (he also was part of the motorcycle division in WW2) thought a kid in the country (we lived in Big Indian back then) should learn to ride and have a motorcycle/dirtbike to keep occupied and stay out of trouble. Though a great idea, the staying out of trouble part didn't work out to good for me (too long of a saga to go into).I spent countless hours and days riding that bike along with neighbors my age that owned Indian dirtbikes (that's right, the Indian name was even tossed on 2 cycle dirtbikes). We probably covered every logging road within a 20 mile radius as well as practiced performing stunts I certainly wouldn't try today.
One day we were riding in a field close to our home that had some great knolls for jumping the bikes, a couple on a Harley stopped on the road and watched us for a while. I remember it as a blue FLH, late sixty's perhaps with the big dual person "pogo" type seat. All of sudden the guy was alongside of us riding in the field with his lady watching from the road. He circled around the field with us a few times. Then being the show off teens we were, we headed to the jumps. One by one we sail through the air higher than we ever did before, almost looking like pro's (that teenage showoff adrenaline was kicking). When we all turned around we saw the guy heading to our favorite jump at a good clip. That H-D went into the air with the rider standing on the floors boards at amazing heights. He landed slightly awkwardly but kept the big blue machine up on its rubber. That was the coolest thing I ever saw. He then picked up his girl, waved to us and went roaring up the road with that rumble that gets all of our hearts beating.Looking back, I really don't think he knew how drastic that jump was when he hit it, but he forged forward and pulled it off with style all of his own. I can only imagine how they told their version of the story and describing the looks on our faces.
There are always certain factors or situations in our lives that helps form thoughts or images in our minds, no matter whether they're logical or emotional. Over the years after that Honda I road and owned an array of bikes. Even though the person that bought me my first bike was a Harley owner; it wasn't until that event in the field that made me want to own and ride a Harley of my own - I just don't see me hitting any jumps in the future
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