Business was good and life was sweet, and that always meant (for me, at least) that it was time to buy either a new (to me) car or motorcycle. In this case, it was a Craigslist ad in the next town over, Holliston, for a super clean 1984 Honda VT 500 Ascot. I always liked those bikes. They have 50 horsepower V-twins with 6-speed gearboxes and shaft drive, along with a radiator and a 1980s interpretation of flat track styling.
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I’m 66 as I write this, and I got my first real motorcycle on my 13th birthday. I’ve been riding ever since. I’ve owned as many as 20 motorcycles at a time. It’s definitely in my blood. Yet for all the bikes I’ve had the pleasure of owning and riding over the years and miles, one of them stands out as being a favorite to actually ride.
That would be my 2013 Honda CB1100.
Even though I have owned many sportbikes, standards, and classic café racers, I fantasized for years about building a Harley Sportster café racer.
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While visiting my folks in Kirkwood, Missouri one weekend in late Fall of 1979, I impulsively bought myself a slightly used candy blue Honda CB550-4 for about $575. The thing was bone stock and absolutely mint, other than it had some bad aftermarket accessories bolted onto it—including crash bars with highway pegs (never liked either of ‘em on my bikes), an enormous plexiglass windshield (never cared much for those either), higher handlebars, and a high sissy bar with back pad.
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Many of us old bike owners have heard about it- the curse of the green motorcycle. If you rode a green motorbike, it was thought that you were more likely to get hurt or killed on it. Minimal secondary research on the topic performed by me hypothesized that green bikes were used in wars, hence their association with death or injury. I was never scared by this supposed “curse,” although maybe I should have been.
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I will never forget the day a box truck arrived at my house containing a faded turquoise ‘72 Suzuki GT750, an original gold and black ‘72 Yamaha DS7 250 with a rusty syrup-gas filled fuel tank, a blue ‘67ish Benelli/Motobi 125/200/250 (no title—never knew for sure what displacement it was!), a rough looking all-white ‘67 Benelli 250 Scrambler, and ‘75 white and orange RD250 with about 1000 miles on it that was pretty nice but needed some minor work. I also picked up a ‘67 Sears-Allstate Puch 250 Twingle from somewhere about that same time.
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I don’t remember why I went in there in the first place but I do recall seeing a super low-mile 1976 Kawasaki KH500 on the showroom floor. It was a metallic orange color and didn’t even have 500 or 600 miles on it and looked brand new. They wanted $995 for it. So I worked them down to $895 and bought it.
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We finally got around to getting out to the garage to see the bikes. And there, leaning up against the wall in an old rickety garage with no doors on it, was a 1970 Dunstall Norton Commando 750, and behind it, also leaning against the wall, was a ‘78 Ducati Darmah. I asked him what he wanted for them and he hit me at $1000 for the Norton and $2000 for Ducati.
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Back when I was about 14 years old, I traded my 1972 Jawa 90 back to Don Heida at Heidacycle in Fenton, Missouri, for a black 1967 Honda CB 160, even up. I liked it because it had a bigger engine than my Jawa, as well as an electric start. Part of the deal was that Don had to install a brand new set of “Scrambler XO” high straight side pipes with a pair of “Snuff or Nots” in the end of each pipe, and deliver the bike to my house in Kirkwood, Missouri.
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