The Surprised Brit

One of the great things about the motorcycle industry is meeting a lot of really great people.  And you get to do things with motorcycles all the time and call it ‘work’.

I have been going to Monterey, California to attend the races at Laguna Seca Raceway since the mid ‘60s, when I was in high school. Back then it was with SCCA and the Can-Am car series, and I was part of the crash crew (but that will be another story). I started attending the AMA National roadraces in the mid ‘80s then it was World Superbike, followed by the 500cc GP races, and now the MotoGP. The second year of the 500 GP they ran side cars with the bikes and it was quite wild as several flipped in the cork screw!  

Trackmaster Triumph

Since Avon Tyres dominated the side car races, three of the guys from Avon Racing UK came to the States. For one of the lads, Andy, it was his first trip to the States.  So we decided to show the boys a good time.  I let Andy ride the bike I brought down, an ex-dirt tracker, the Trackmaster Triumph, and he acted like he was Scott Parker or somebody.  

The racing went very well for Avon and the team of Steve Webster and Tony Hewett won.  Steve is the only man to win 10 FIM World Sidecar Championships. The team is most probably known for their spectacular crash at the Dutch GP in 1985; here’s the video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AF_DZ1SXEoQ .

Steve Webster and Tony Stewart, Laguna Seca

Left to Right:  Nick Ienatsch, myself, Steve, and Tony, and the passerby

That night all the lads from the UK and I were out for a victory drink at what is now know as Sly McFly’s.  I had noticed this “young lady” (I am going to be nice and say in her 30’s) who was probably a regular at the place, flirting with all the guys at one side of the bar. On my way back from the restroom she and I came face to face and I asked her “Would you be up for some fun?” I explained I had this Brit friend with me (I pointed him out) and it was his first trip to the States and he would be over the moon if he got a little attention from a California girl, maybe even a little kiss on the cheek. I never would have asked her, but I had a feeling she was the kind of gal that would be up for that sort of thing. Now Andy and I are sitting in the front corner of the place with a window behind us.  On our left I saw her coming back from the restroom.  Then she turns at the door, goes outside past our window and disappears.

Then the Avon lads sitting across the table from Andy and I get a very startled look on their face. Moments later she reappears and proceeds to sit on Andy’s lap. To say he was surprised would be an understatement!  Andy has a tendency to talk the talk, but not necessarily walk the walk. She gets him to turn his chair so she can straddle him. She has her arms around his neck and is giving him all her attention and he has not spoken a word and is beet red.  The more dumfounded he gets, the more she pours it on!.  She is really eating it up and the next thing I know she grabs her shirt and flashes him. I thought Andy was going to pass out! She soon departed and I don’t know how long it was before Andy took a breath. The reason the boys across the table were in shock was when she went out earlier, she flashed them through the window behind our backs.  Welcome to California Andy!!

The $200 Bike

Letting it sit. . . 

My mother used to manage an apartment complex in the San Francisco area, and on one of my visits she introduced me to one of the tenants who was an enthusiast. He had an XJ650 Yamaha turbo and a 1976 Triumph Bonneville but had not ridden for years. He said the Triumph was seized up, so I bought it for $200.00 and hauled it back to Seattle.

First I put oil in the cylinders and let it set for a couple of weeks.  Then with it on the center stand, I turned the rear wheel backwards and sure enough it turned over. I discovered the spark plug had been cross threaded and rain water had rusted the rings to the cylinder. I took it apart, honed it, and put new rings in - as it did not need a bore job. I cleaned it up real good and rode it for 5 years.

When it was time to sell the bike, I put an ad in the paper and a photo flyer with my phone number on it in several local motorcycle shops.  One Saturday a nice young man shows up in his 3 series BMW all decked out with his Gucci shoes, Armani pants and whatnot. I don’t really know all that much about fashion, but my teenage daughters gave me all the details on what Mr. Fashion was wearing. He takes the bike for a spin around the block and comes back into the shop. He is a little upset because he lost his Oakley sunglasses but still says he wants to buy it.  Then the great money conversation starts.  Got Cash? Not at the moment, but Tuesday for sure.  I tell him that’s fine, but I’ll need a deposit to hold it or I’ll just sell it to the next guy.  He gives me his watch, which he says is quite valuable, as a deposit. He then calls my office on Tuesday and said he did not have the cash but would get it soon. I told him I was going out of town and would call him when I got back. After I returned from my travelling I called his number and to which his roommate said he moved out.  I left a message for him to come and get his watch. As this was Spring, I got busy and didn’t put the bike back up for sale.  Then one day a gentleman who had seen the bike photo in one of the shops calls and asked if I still had the bike.  He got a bike and I got $2,600 out of the deal.  We were both happy!

The 1976 Bonneville

But I still had the watch.  So I hung it on a hook where we kept the extra keys and told everyone if Mr. Fashion came by, give him back his watch.  A couple of years go by, and one day I’m throwing out all those keys that nobody can remember what they go to , and there was the watch.  At this point it was no longer running as the battery was dead.  . I take it down to Fred Meyer to have the battery replaced and the guy says it is an expensive watch.  So I’m wondering what it’s really worth.  So the next time we go to the mall I take the watch to Ben Bridge Jewelers, who happen to be a Raymond Weil dealer.  Upon inspection, they tell me that the model I have is worth $2,200.00!! I’ve been wearing it ever since. 

So what do you do with good motorcycle money?  Instead of a mini-van like the last time, we bought Microsoft stock, which then split.  A year ago I bought a very nice 1968 Bonneville. 

That old ’76 was probably the best $200 I’ve ever spent!

Don't forget, our office is closed for Winter Holiday from Dec 24th to Jan. 2nd. 

Selling bikes

The motorcycle industry has gone through several ups and downs since I got started in the early 70’s. Like many I got started behind the parts counter, but one’s enthusiasm always boils over onto the show room. The first motorcycle I sold was a Honda CL350 because the owner wanted what he considered “a bike he could ride on and off road”. Unless he lived on a gravel road, I don’t think that thing ever got off the pavement. My how things have changed!

Just a couple of years ago I was in a shop with one of my sales reps for Parts Unlimited and this young parts counter kid said he had just bought a ‘really neat vintage bike’ and asked if l would like to see it. As an enthusiast with a shop full of “proper British motorbikes”, I said “Sure. I would love to see what you have bought”.  We go in the back and he shows me a 1976 green KZ900. I didn’t really want to rain on this young man’s parade, but 1976? This might classify as a classic, but not a vintage in my book. Just because it was made before he was born I think classified it as vintage in his mind. I sold these things when they were new!

Kawasaki had a program for dealers on 25 units so my boss bought 50 and I don’t think we sold 30 the previous year. On top of that when I got down to the last 10, he bought 25 more! We had a special for $2495.00. Those were the days when if you wanted a touring bike you added a Windjammer fairing and Bates saddlebags.

The fun back then was creating your own specialty bike.  For example we were buying lots of Vetter Windjammer fairings and adding them to mostly KZ900 and KZ1000s. For the most part they were white and never really matched anything. We decided it would be cool to build one all matching -  so we got a painter to do it all in yellow…body work, fairing, bags, top box and cargo trailer. Then we took the gas cap down to the local trophy shop and had it engraved ‘Custom built for………. By Kawasaki County’ (the name or our shop). When people would express an interest in the thing we would point to the cap and say that the owners name was to be engraved as soon as the deal was done. We let the boss sell this one as he was the principal behind the entire program and a touring rider himself. 

Sorry I don’t remember the gentleman’s name that purchased it but I do remember he had a 1974 T150 Triumph Trident with probably a 6” extended front fork. I took the bike for a test ride and could not for the life of me understand why someone would take a really well handling bike and to that to it. He and his wife racked up many miles on that yellow monster.

So I had this customer come in looking to buy a good used bike for a trip. I had previously sold him a bike at the Honda shop, but now at the Kawasaki shop he was looking for something to ride from Yakima, Washington to Tennessee. The problem was he had hardly any money. We had a really clean Honda CB450 that he was looking at, and asked if it would make it there and back. I said the bike would make it but I would be a long ride for him and his wife. He came in about a month later after he got back and said the bike was fine, but both he and his wife still had numb butts. That’s when he purchased the now ‘Vintage’ GREEN KZ900 with fairing and bags.

I need to be real careful about passing judgment on fools riding long distances on ‘little bikes’. I once rode a 1968 Yamaha YCS1C (180cc) from Fairbanks, Alaska to Anchorage on the 430 mile old road. Very long trip but I was young and adventuresome.

But that’s just selling bikes. . . 

The Parts Bike

One day I was standing in my garage and thinking “I have enough parts to make a bike”.

I had the slim line Norton featherbed frame with the forks and the Triumph 650cc motor from my dirt tracker and several sets of wheels. So I ordered a gas and oil tank as well as seat and engine mounting plates from Unity in England. This was going to be a nice Triton, not a show quality piece, but nice all the same.

When I received the tank, I was a little disappointed in the quality; as the silver in the gel coat had sagged and it needed to be repainted. I asked my friend Terry to “Just put some paint on it. Nothing fantastic. Just put some color on it to cover up the sags”. He said he just got some new paint he wanted to try and was black OK? It was fine with me.  So a couple of weeks later he says it looks too plain, can we get some decals? So I got some gold stripes and a couple of Triton decals.

When he brings me the bodywork, it’s gorgeous! Now the rest of the bike looks like a junk-yard special. This presented a new dilemma because it just didn’t look right, therefore I had to tear it all apart, powder coat the frame, unlace the wheels, do the hubs, and new shouldered aluminum rims. This was turning into a real project and this thing was going to be a beauty.

Now here comes the bad news. My wife (of 40 years this year) brings a cup of coffee out to the garage one day and asked what I was going to do with this bike – sell it or keep it.  Besides, she knows the garage is full. I told her I was going to sell it and then the discussion about what I was going to do with the money comes up. In a moment of weakness I said “And I suppose you want the money?” Big Mistake, as she informs me she wants a minivan.  So there went good motorcycle money, for a not so cool set of wheels.

The story gets even worse because when I got it all done and took it for a ride, the thing was a fantastic café racer! It was very strong with the race motor and the Norton frame handled great. Not a modern sport bike, but a great ‘60s era ride. At least the new owner was smiling.

The Parts Bike, before it was shipped to it's new owner!

Years later my wife brought out another cup of coffee to the garage, so that will be another story.

It's Turkey Time!

Tom Turkey, not very ridable!

This is not story about family and friends sitting down to eat a big bird.

This is about one of the ‘turkeys’ I have owned.

Over the years I have bought and sold numerous bikes, usually British and vintage. Most often I buy junk, fix it up, and then help it find a new owner who will give it the love that I no longer have for it. Sometimes the love affair is short lived. I am always looking for that diamond in the rough, but have yet to find the Norton Manx in the old barn.

One summer day several years ago, I was with my wife and we were walking though some antique stores on Whidbey Island, Washington.  As I walked out onto a second story landing I noticed a bike about a block away.  It looked almost like a Manx, but I knew it could not be, as they are impractical on the street. As I got closer I realized it was an Atlas in ‘clubman’ trim. I put my business card on the bike with a little note on the back that said if you ever want to sell it, call me.

The Atlas Turkey - Before

One day, about eight months later, I get a call.  At first I have a hard time trying to figure out who the guy is that wants to sell me a bike. Finally, it all comes together and I go out to his place and to buy the bike for a really fair price.  He then asked me if I want to buy the ‘parts bike’ for $150, so I take it too. This was my first Norton that I owned. I have ridden numerous models but never owned one. I fix this one up with allot of polishing and detail work and start riding it. Now the ‘turkey’ part of the story.

I have always been keen on ‘café racers’ and it looks like they are the next ‘in thing’ (seen TV show Café Racer anyone?). Sometimes one is willing to put up with many poor bike qualities for the sake of being cool. This bike handled really well with good brakes but it vibrated soooooo bad that I had to get off after about 50 miles as my hands were numb (not to mention other body parts!).

The Atlas Turkey - After restoration

Cool or not, Manx clone or not the love affair was over and this turkey needed to find a new roost. 

Just so happened a gentleman stopped in our office and a new love affair had begun. 

Next time, the parts bike comes into its own.

How bad can it get??

Almost anytime you go riding it is a good day. Granted some days are better than others but riding is always better than working. It can be iffy sometimes. I remember trail riding with my brother in law in Washington’s Cascade Mountains in this area call Goat’s Peak, a heavily forested area with what seemed like straight up and straight down single track. There were numerous smooth rocks and tree roots on the trail. It was slick because it was misting, but then it started to freeze, and then snow. We almost had to carry our bikes out of there. I kept saying to him as we helped each other up the mountain “Tell me we are having fun. Because it doesn’t seem like it.”

That, however, was nothing compared to my good riding buddy Terry’s experience. Terry is an outstanding rider and if I can keep him in sight I am very happy. A bunch of the guys were going to go riding in Eastern Oregon and even though I got the invite, I had to decline as I had to make a trip to California on business. The core of this group is a bunch of professionals in their 50’s. David Edwards (former editor of Cycle World Magazine) called Peter Wiley the ‘world’s fastest dentist’. David was in attendance as well as Wendell Phillips (Lockhart Phillips) and several others. Everyone met up in The Dalles, Oregon after flying or trailering in that day (to save the tires). 

Terry gets up the next morning, puts on his leathers and walks out to his bike; but it is not there. Someone has stolen the bike and trailer. This is not your average Honda RC51 either. It had Olhins forks and shock. It also had a Yoshimura full titanium exhaust and made 128 hp at the rear wheel. Everyone is sick about the situation but decides to go on anyway. Peter offers him his RC51 back in Seattle if he wants to go get it. So Terry drives the 4+ hours back to Seattle to get the bike and agrees to meet everyone in John Day, Oregon (which is almost 7 hours from Seattle).

By now I am sure you’ve determined that Terry is a little hard core. It is about 9 in the evening and he is on a narrow two lane country road ‘cruising along’ as he says, not going too fast (we figure he is going about 80 mph) when out of the woods steps a deer. He hit the deer hard enough to split it into two separate pieces. The majority of the impact was with his chest….9 broken ribs, bruised heart and collapsed lung. Suddenly he is laying, in pain, in the middle of the road, damaged, borrowed RC51 on its side and deer guts everywhere. After a little while a lady and her daughter come along and scoop him up and take him to the local fire station and eventually the hospital. As he says “I laid in that hospital bed for a week thinking about a RC51 I had to fix and wondering if I would ever see mine or my trailer again.”

Honda RC51, similar to the one that was Stolen!

By some luck, the trailer was fished out of the Columbia River some months later, but the bike was never recovered. We all recognize this is a dangerous sport and talent cannot overcome circumstances sometimes; but like Terry, we all do it because we love it. Fully recovered years later, Terry is still just as fast as ever.

The Fire Truck Story

As I previously mentioned the rules of the road at the Isle of Man are not the same as in the USA. There are no speed limits when you are outside of the city limits and where it’s not posted as a speed zone. Plus if there is room to pass, then you just go for it – no matter what the lines on the road say. Not sure how legal it was, but everyone did it as long as it was safe.

So on our last day on the Island, Lord Denbigh (Rollo) has offered to take us to lunch. He made reservations at some little “French restaurant” on the other side of the island. He said it wasn’t anything fancy. I think he only said that because he had never been there. The place was very nice and I think it cost him a small fortune for all of us to eat there.  Interesting thing about this little village was that it was the only place on the island I saw a Manx cat and the 4 horned Sheep that are unique to the island.

4-Horned Loughtan Sheep

Manx Cat

Anyway, getting back to my story. So the race was over and we were all suited up, on our bikes, and ready to pull out in traffic from the church just past Quarter Bridge.  We wait as we hear sirens and then a fire truck goes by.  Shortly after that more sirens and a police car goes by. It just so happens that we are going the same directions as the two emergency vehicles.

As we get out in the countryside we start to gain on the fire truck and are soon right behind, lights and sirens blazing. He is doing about 45-50 mph and Allen (remember Allen and the police story from earlier?) passes him, after all no speed limit right? So we all pass the slow fire truck and get a nod from one of the fireman. At this point I’m saying to myself this is crazy, who passes a fire truck with lights and sirens going?  It’s obvious the police car had passed the fire truck, so what’s the harm in us passing him?  

The Rover SD1

Then we started to close on the police car. I’m running third in line and we are closing fast on the cops who have lights and sirens going as well. This is NUTS. Are they going to try to pass the police car as well? 

Passing a fire truck is one thing, but passing the police is a whole different story. I did not sign up for a night in jail. The good news was the police car turned off the main road just as we caught up to them.  Luckily, they weren’t going to the same restaurant we were!

Until next time. . .