Story

In 69, I got out of the service.



Had a hard time fitin in, needed something for an adrenaline rush. Got myself a motorcycle, a 1968 Triumph TR-6. Nice bike but needed something more. I did know one thing, bikes were the answer !

Got a job and put up with the BS 5 days a week, on the weekend I had to ride. That seemed to make it all OK. I needed an adrenaline rush (people never seemed to understand that) and I also needed space and that was hard to find in LA. Seemed to always end up in the hills, I liked it up there ! Sold my Triumph and bought my first Harley. 1948 Panhead, she was my first serious relationship. Had the frame stretched, neck raked. Put a 8" overstock AEE Ultra Narrow Springer up front. No front brake, wishbone ridged frame, she was a beauty !!! Like ridin a rockinchair. Life was good !!!

I would hook up with this little gal who fit real rice on the back of the old pan. She had never seen anything like this before and wanted to go on a trip. I agreed and put the sleeping bag on the bike and we headed for the mountains. She never complained (anyone who has ever rode on the back of a ridged knows, she had a right too) and we rode all day. We drank from streams and cooked by campfire. We slept under the stars and brushed our teeth with beer in the morning. That morning I asked her if she wanted to head back home, to my surprise she said No ! We decided we would head up thru Three Rivers and into Sequoia National Park. Barely had enough money for gas so we bought some bread, bologna and cheese and made sandwiches in the olive fields of Lindsey, Calif. Spent the night under a tree on a hillside in Sequoia. That next day we headed for home and all she could say was "when can we go again....*We stayed together and eventually got married, we started a family soon afterwards. Once she was pregnant, she never rode with me again. She said that one of us needed to be alive for the kid. She never questioned or pressured me about riding, Ever ! Years down the road, she might have cause to, but even then she didn't.......She understood how important that bike was to me. I was lucky !

Once riding, it seemed that over time more joined in. It was good but I did notice that one or two bikes never caused much concern. You get 3, 8, 10 bikes and people became nervious. I was young and it was kind of a rush so the drama didn't bother me.
There were 3 towns that I was literally "ran" out of. The first was Torrance, bad place for bikers. They came at us from every direction. Took us one by one, patted us down and went over every inch of each bike. They "carded" each of us and ran us for warrents. Then we were politely told to get out of their city. Crestline, in the mountains, much the same thing only they basically shut the town off on us and waited for us in turn to leave the bar (they had stopped serving us)and get on the bikes and leave. They were hiding around the corners and nailed us as we were leaving. One arrested, had to go to San Bernadino jail the next morning and get him out. The last, decided to take a trip by myself to Oceanside and visit Camp Pendleton (where I was stationed years back). Once off the freeway, I was stopped by the local cop and asked what I was doing there, I explained that I was just visiting and was told I wasn't welcome there and I should leave. He followed me to the onramp, he didn't care if I went north or south, as long as it was away from his town.

Sometimes we would ride so far so fast, that we just couldn't ride any further !

Pretty cool. Looks like bikes have been a part of your life a long time.

32 years, it's what kept me goin.......

One of those trips ya remember. Rained on us for two days, we spent the night before in a "outhouse" at the base of the eastern sierra mountains. This was a old stage stop headed into Weldon from the Mojave Desert. Used a 50 gal. drum as a camp fire. Compared to the night before, this was a 4 star hotel !!!

Liked to ride through the Redwoods, something everyone should see at least once.

that was beautiful!