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  1. #1
    Registered User redclfco's Avatar
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    Motorcycle Moments

    In 1983?, on April 1, I rode a 400cc Yamaha Maxim from Boulder, Colorado to the foothills west of Fort Collins. I have great memories of being chased along by a big storm hugging to foothills, the clouds developing black and blue colors and streaks of lightning all around me as I raced along on the back route between Boulder and Lyons.

    I wore my ATGATT of the time, my Dad's lineman gloves, a white open face helmet with a big gold peace sign on the back side, an old paratrooper padded green jacket, levis and huge 3/4 shank hiking boots with vibram soles as thick as a book; I don’t remember how I shifted.

    I can remember I had just purchased a little red transistor radio the week before, and had ear buds tucked into my ears, listening to KBCO radio out of Boulder, who were doing their April Fools day spoof, which for about half the trip I thought was legit, until it dawned on me it was April 1st.

    What a magnificent trip. Forever in my memories. My now wife (then girl friend)and I had bought 35 acres, and lived in a little silver trailer on our property hauling water and using an ancient old septic left behind from the original house, by then gone. (before much zoning in Larimer county). It was over four years until we finally paid off the land and built a proper house.

    My Girl was in grad school, and I was a counselor at a jail. Our little trailer was our love shack; we ate tons of venison and brown rice that night, home canned tomatoes and baklava for dessert.

    Good memories of an April 1st ride... I hope I never forget the wonderful storm, the smells that spring day injecting into my nose, and obviously into my memories.

    How about you?

    And I don't think it has to be April 1st, just any great ride tucked in your memories...

    Red

  2. #2
    Survivor akbeemer's Avatar
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    A Friend Makes the Ride

    I have fond memories of many past rides, especially those I made when I lived in Germany, but my best memory is of my most recent long trip. Last summer I rode with my wife from Alaska to Montana, Idaho and Washington. The most significant and memorable aspect of the ride was that Annie rode her own bike. The admiration I felt for her as she overcame tough weather and road conditions was immeasurable (she had less than 2 months riding experience when we started the trip). She displayed great courage as she encountered many firsts, such as, her first muddy 20 mile construction zone, first grated bridge and her first 6 lane traffic packed metropolitan freeway. She overcame each and every one and never waivered in her desire to continue. Our friendship grew greatly as we shared the experience as only riding buddies can. But the best part is all the rides we are planning in the future; this year we are going to try to tackle every major dirt road in Alaska.
    Kevin Huddy
    Intrepid Incompetent
    Tm Pterodactyl MT Outpost

  3. #3
    Registered User PHMARVIN's Avatar
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    First (BMW) Ride
    In 1975 I crashed my '72 Dunstall-Norton 810 MkII. I had another Norton, but someone made me an offer for it which I couldn't refuse. For the next few months I bitched to a friend (BMW rider) who finally got tired of it and told me his dealer had one only left-over '76 R90/6 and I should go buy it. I did, and 32 years ago today (1 April 1977), I rode out of R.B. Johnson BMW/Norton/Ducati/Moto Guzzi of Chalybeate Springs, NC on my brand new R90/6. Thence began my 32 yr (and counting) affair with BMW motorcycles.
    Ride Safe,
    Phil Marvin - El Paso, TX
    '94 K75A/3
    '95 K75RTP

  4. #4
    Nickname: Droid
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    Sometimes, even a short day ride encompasses so many facets of why we ride, it lodges itself deep in our memory and soul, and is revived everytime we sample just a portion of that ride.

    Back in 1990, I was married, owned my 1st home, my 1st BMW, working full time, also going to night school for my engineering degree, even in the summer. It was a weekday during the week of July 4th, and I just spent three days studying hard for a test that week. So I had been home for days, diligent at my desk.

    Then I get a call, that class was cancelled. I was TICKED after all that work, so I went to the garage to fiddle with my 76 R100RS. My wife sensed my frustration. She came out a short time later, said "pack up the bike, we're riding up to Door County to take in a play at Penninsula Players." That's 120 miles one way, and its now 2pm. So off we went on a beautiful summer mid-week afternoon.

    The ride up was relaxing, listening to the ol' airhead humming along. The play was great fun. The setting in the cedar trees on the east shore of Green Bay was very romantic, with a glorious setting sun amongst the soft waxy smell of the cedars. The warm night ride home included a rare show of the Northern lights. And arriving back home to Appleton, we weren't too tired to not share a special evening in each other's arms. All in the space of eight hours and 240 miles. If anyone says motorcycle riding is not for the romantic at heart, I say you don't have a heart. What a night that was!

    That ride, that night, those memories, still hold very stong as a very special ride, and VERY special event! I'd love to relive it in a heartbeat.
    Last edited by Andy VH; 04-03-2009 at 02:27 PM.

  5. #5
    yellowrosefarm
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    In the 80's when I was in my 20's riding at night on my R75/5 in western Virginia. I noticed the moonlight seemed bright enough to ride by. It was. I don't think I would do it now, but it's a great memory

  6. #6
    Registered User stkmkt1's Avatar
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    It was 1982. I was on my 1977 CB750a heading out west on a vacation. IT was one of those where I said to myself, just get on Interstate 74 (i live in Central Illinois) and ride west 'til I hit the ocean. So I did. The first day I rode 20 hours straight, yes I said 20 hours!. Speed limit was 55, so I did 55. Night time came, I might have been into Colorado, and I started to get tired (gee I wonder why?) I went from town to town looking for a place to stay. Seems vacationers filled up all the hotels.

    I rode on. It got later and later, finally around 1 am I found a best Western. I got off the bike and headed for the door. The sign said "vacancy." Just then a car came flying in and drove right past me and straight up to the door. A guy jumped out and ran inside. You guessed it, he took the last room.

    I ask the fellow running the place if he could find me room. OR could I just sleep in the lobby. He found me one, 75 miles on west of wherever I was. So I handed him a credit card, reserved the room, and hopped back out on the bike.

    AS I got back up to speed on the interstate, I remember seeing a sign that we bike riders love to see, especially at night: "deer crossing next three miles." I said to myself, " I hope the deer are already asleep."

    I ran it up to 75 mph, set the VandaCruise, and held on. Next morning, well, really about noon, I got up to go to the bathroom and shower and looked out the window and saw mountains. I said to myself, "wow, I wonder how long I had been riding in the mountains?"

    After that, I told myself I would never do two things again.

    1) ride the bike across country at 55 mph.
    2) ride a bike that many hours.

    I still have that bike. I still ride it. I'm never going to sell it. That was my first cross-country trip on a bike. And this is but one of many stories of that trip. There are others that are really a much better read. I chose to tell this one because I learned a few valuable lessons on that trip. And it is these first two lessons that I learned back then, that still stick in my memory the most even today.

    You should take your time and enjoy the trip. But don't try to make up for the slow rate of travel by riding a longer period of time.

    Thanks for reading and sharing your stories with us all.
    '09 BMW 1200 GSA, 2013 BMW 700GS, 2000 Goldwing SE, '09' V Star 950, '09 Honda Rebel,
    '77 Honda 750A. Holding at six til I get new garage built - need more room for more bikes!

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