First Motorcycle Stories

[TodkaVonic]

Those looking at the R18 as a first motorcycle got me thinking about my first bike and the events surrounding that purchase. It’s not pretty. The older, wiser version of me thinks I was a complete jackass.

Ok

It was 1998. The bike was a 1996 Harley Davidson Sportster 1200 XLC. Black. I found it in a newspaper. I was in college and didn’t know how to ride. I had never even been on a motorcycle. I remember thinking “how hard can it be?” I had been saving money for a car but, for inexplicable reasons, an overpriced Harley seemed like the more responsible purchase. In Wisconsin. Where we have winter. Every year.

I rented a uHaul pickup and drove from Madison to Sheboygan to buy it. The seller and I loaded the bike then he asked about tie down straps. I showed him rope. Rope! He says that won’t do and the two of us go to Walmart to buy ratcheting straps. He ratchets the bike down and off I go.

About half way home I realized that I have no way to unload the bike. No ramp. No buddies lined up to help. I could leave it on the pickup and unload the next day? But classes and paying for another days rental, what’s that $35? Nah, I got this. Just need to find a suitable ditch….there! I backed the pickup into a ditch, opened the gate, straddled the bike, released the straps, and rolled right off like I’d done it a dozen times. I still have no idea how it worked so well.

So picture this: it’s dark, about 9pm, and I’m on my new (used) 1200 cc Harley in the empty parking lot of a Menards. And it just started sprinkling too. I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle but I do understand how a clutch works. I’m squeezing levers and pushing peddles and getting a feel for things. Deep breath. Don’t fear the reaper. I start her up. Ok that’s loud. Grin. Click into gear, ease off the clutch, and we’re moving! It’s jerky and awkward but I’m riding! Come to a stop. Start again. Repeat. I spent about an hour cruising around that Menards parking lot in the rain.

To sum up: One bad decision after another with complete lack of foresight and disregard for consequences too. My undeveloped brain on full display! But so began a love affair with motorcycling.

So fellow R18 brothers and sisters, what’s your motorcycling origin story?

 

[DG6n26]

Dad bought a 3HP mini-bike for me and my brother, I was 4. My grandfather bought a Vespa 90 from a friend of his for my 10th birthday. We went to take a look at it and before I knew it they had me on the Vespa ready to ride.
Well this was way too big for me but I was ready to roll. Kick start, shift gear with the right grip, give it the full throttle and off I go.....into a telephone pole about 40 feet away. No real damage and no injuries.
Sixty years later and about 70 different bikes.

 

[TodkaVonic]

Dad bought a 3HP mini-bike for me and my brother, I was 4. My grandfather bought a Vespa 90 from a friend of his for my 10th birthday. We went to take a look at it and before I knew it they had me on the Vespa ready to ride.
Well this was way too big for me but I was ready to roll. Kick start, shift gear with the right grip, give it the full throttle and off I go.....into a telephone pole about 40 feet away. No real damage and no injuries.
Sixty years later and about 70 different bikes.

Haha I bet the adults were relieved that you were ok.

 

[rublezz345]

I was asking my dad to buy moped since I was 10yo. Finally when 3 years later my dad bought 50cc moped. It was very old and dreaming about scrap yard bike. First day I smashed into the wall, because of broken rear brake. As I told, moped was in very bad technical condition, so 4 days repair and 3 days driving, every week. Since that days I learned how to repair moped and not to buy cheap used things.

 

[BMWryder9]

Not exactly a first bike story but close.

When I moved to Florida, I came from a state that didn’t require a motorcycle endorsement on your driver license. So, I had to take the motorcycle rider test to get an endorsement. Everybody told me the same thing. “You can’t pass the test on a 700 pound, 8-foot-long motorcycle”. (Harley) I lived pretty close to the course where they gave the tests so I went after hours and practiced on the course. There were some skills that I was sure I couldn’t master such as turning an 8-foot motorcycle in a 7-foot box and navigating some staggered cones but I figured I’d pass enough skills to at least get my license.

The morning I went for my test there was a young fellow on a Fat Boy and a married couple with a moped they just bought at the side of the road. I asked the married guy if I could borrow his moped to take my test on and he agreed if I paid him $10.00 which was fine by me.

The guy on the Fat Boy was first and he totally bombed. He had no business on a motorcycle. The married guy went next and he failed miserable on the moped. The woman was next and she aced the test but she forgot to put her feet down at the finish so she failed as well. She also damaged the moped enough that it was unrideable.

I’m the last applicant and the only bike I have to ride is my Harley. I did OK, certainly well enough to demonstrate the I could ride safely. Unfortunately, I was a couple points shy of passing. When I pulled up to the officer to get my score he said “You didn’t pass but I can tell you can ride so I’m passing you, after all, I have to pass someone today. Its good to be lucky.

 

[PistolPeteSTL]

I was a senior in high school and a friend of a friend has a 1978 Yamaha 650 Special for sale for $200. Needed some work of course- the battery didn't work so it was a kick start only. Needed a headlight, rear shocks, a carb rebuild and probably lots of other stuff I had no idea about. He told me his brother had the title and he'd get it to me in a couple weeks. I gave the dude cash and my buddy rode it to my house.

For the next two weeks I figured out the control, how many dozen kicks it took to get started in the morning (I am sure the choke didn't work looking back now) and how to ride in my neighborhood. I put a new headlight in it and realized the rear shocks didn't move at all unless I hit a really solid bump then they totally bottomed out. It made for an interesting ride.

Then came the last day of high school. Of course I had to ride my bike, despite my parents telling me I could not. So here I was, freshly 18, no motorcycle license, no training, no license plate on the bike, no insurance, just your average youthful moron doing his own thing. I get to school with no mishaps. After school I come out, strap up my helmet and get my bike going on the second kick. What a way to end my school years! I felt great. So great that I was making really good time to the graduation rehearsal that was happening immediately after school and got pulled over. A number of minutes later, I was the proud owner of my first motor vehicle ticket. Also my second, third and fourth- got 4 tickets in that one stop. That cop was able to meet his quota for the afternoon all at once, apparently.

A week after that I was getting suspect that the title didn't actually exist. I had a friend's father run the VIN and sure enough, flagged as stolen. I abandoned the bike next to a dumpster of an apartment complex and went on with my life. When it was time to go to court for the tickets I explained to the judge that I decided motorcycling wasn't for me and I had gotten rid of the bike in question. He felt I learned my lesson and my total cost for the 4 tickets was less than $50, which was a score even 30 years ago when this happened. I figured I would be on the hook for at least two bills.

I didn't own a motorcycle again until I was 26, but that one had a title and a working starter and everything.

 

[TodkaVonic]

I was a senior in high school and a friend of a friend has a 1978 Yamaha 650 Special for sale for $200. Needed some work of course- the battery didn't work so it was a kick start only. Needed a headlight, rear shocks, a carb rebuild and probably lots of other stuff I had no idea about. He told me his brother had the title and he'd get it to me in a couple weeks. I gave the dude cash and my buddy rode it to my house.

For the next two weeks I figured out the control, how many dozen kicks it took to get started in the morning (I am sure the choke didn't work looking back now) and how to ride in my neighborhood. I put a new headlight in it and realized the rear shocks didn't move at all unless I hit a really solid bump then they totally bottomed out. It made for an interesting ride.

Then came the last day of high school. Of course I had to ride my bike, despite my parents telling me I could not. So here I was, freshly 18, no motorcycle license, no training, no license plate on the bike, no insurance, just your average youthful moron doing his own thing. I get to school with no mishaps. After school I come out, strap up my helmet and get my bike going on the second kick. What a way to end my school years! I felt great. So great that I was making really good time to the graduation rehearsal that was happening immediately after school and got pulled over. A number of minutes later, I was the proud owner of my first motor vehicle ticket. Also my second, third and fourth- got 4 tickets in that one stop. That cop was able to meet his quota for the afternoon all at once, apparently.

A week after that I was getting suspect that the title didn't actually exist. I had a friend's father run the VIN and sure enough, flagged as stolen. I abandoned the bike next to a dumpster of an apartment complex and went on with my life. When it was time to go to court for the tickets I explained to the judge that I decided motorcycling wasn't for me and I had gotten rid of the bike in question. He felt I learned my lesson and my total cost for the 4 tickets was less than $50, which was a score even 30 years ago when this happened. I figured I would be on the hook for at least two bills.

I didn't own a motorcycle again until I was 26, but that one had a title and a working starter and everything.

That is fantastic

 

[burangs]

Beautiful Pennsylvania summer nearly 50 years ago and one Hodaka Combat Wombat ... the rest is a blur.

 

[nielsm]

I'd always loved dirt bikes and had ridden a friend's Honda Z50 as a kid. I rode bicycles a lot, including mountain bikes so I was comfortable on two wheels even in rocky terrain. But my motorized 2 wheeler was limited to a few runs down the block on the Z50.

I saw an ad for the then new 1997 BMW F650GS and loved the look of it more than the Japanese dual sports of the era. Like many, I'd not known BMW made motorcycles back then, so I was surprised it existed and knew little about the other models. Went to the dealer and bought it, learning it was the cheapest BMW at the time. Of course, the F650GS back then was really a rebadged Aprilia, but I was a bit naive.

Riding out of the dealership was my first time on a tall bike and the 50HP felt huge compared to the ~2HP on the Z50 and the clutch made for a weird first few feet getting going that scared me a bit. After a couple blocks, it felt normal and everything just clicked.

I used the bike to commute into Manhattan from the northern suburbs & finally took the MSF course to get my legal motorcycle endorsement after a few months of riding. I did 4000 miles in my first 4 months mostly from the commuting. I then upgraded to my first boxer motor, a 1998 R1100GS which I also used for commuting and fun rides on the weekends. All in, my first year riding I did 14K miles and was hooked.

25 years later, I've owned 9 bikes & still own 5, 4 of which are still BMW. First impressions can have a lasting impression, so despite trying a number of other brands, I've kept buying BMWs.

 

[WaydeG]

1972 Kawasaki 175.
My parents said no so I still bought it, left it at my friends house down the street as we were "working on it" at his house. That was all well and fine until parents talked and his Dad remarked, "Your son's motorcycle seems to be in a constant state of repair. I'm not sure I'd let Rick own a motorcycle."
My Dad: Say what?
On another note... I went to buy my first car from a friend and was so jazzed until my Dad asked, "why is there a clock on the hood?"
Me giddy with excitement: "It's not a clock Dad, it's a tachometer."
My Dad lifted the hood of the pristine white Buick GSX, saw the 455ci on the air cleaner and promptly killed the deal.

 

[D04011]

Many years ago right after high school I decided to buy a bike. One of the secretaries' husband had a bike for sale, a 1966 Honda CB450 that he made into a cafe racer, stripped a bit and with clip bars and really lowered gearing. At this point I had never ridden a bike but figured it can't be that hard since I knew some real schmucks with bikes that weren't killed. A friend went with me with his pickup to get it to a strip mall that night to show me how to ride it. The guy selling it started it and it sounded great with the straight pipes. I told him I'd take it and I could tell it was good and didn't need a test ride. He wouldn't sell it to me unless I took it for a ride and was satisfied with it since I worked with his wife. I didn't want to tell him I didn't know how to ride so I told him I didn't have a helmet (required in Georgia at that time) although I actually had a new 3/4 gold metal flake one I had just purchased at K-Mart for $15. He went to get me one of his extra helmets and a leather jacket. While he was in the house I asked Dennis HTH it worked. He told me it was 1 down/4 up, throttle on the right side and clutch on the left. He told me to give it enough gas that I wouldn't stall it. With them watching I started the bike, pulled the throttle all the way back and dumped the clutch. Dennis hadn't bothered to tell me to be a little less aggressive on the throttle and when releasing the clutch...

It was night time and I vividly remember the bike starting to climb as I slid back on the flat abbreviated seat and the headlight beam moving up into the trees like I was hunting raccoons. I only went a very short distance when I was suddenly on my back and the gas tank smashed down into my chest and the bike was momentarily standing upright on my chest. Luckily I was so close that they could get to me before the bike fell over and fortunately there wasn't a mark or ding on the bike. The guy asked me if I was okay and that I could buy the bike right then, he just wanted me out of there... Unfortunately I took a big divot out of his spare helmet but he did sell the bike...

We loaded the bike in the pickup and went to a mostly vacant strip mall late that night and I learned enough to ride home semi-safely after about 30 minutes of instruction. I was living in an apartment with a friend and I told him when I came home to open the door to the ground-level apartment so I could bring the bike in because I didn't have any insurance. With the narrow clip bars it fit in fine but like a young obnoxious A-hole, I really cranked the throttle to let my roommate hear it. When I shut it down I could hear my neighbor through the paper-thin walls bitching to his wife about the noise at 11:00pm. Early next morning I got a call from the apartment Resident Manager and I was out of the apartment that afternoon...

A week later I convinced myself I had completely "mastered" the Honda and moved up to a 650 Bonneville... Early on I learned my leasson about helmets and have worn one on every ride (no matter how long) since then. Only accidents in 50+ years since then were long ago on dirt bikes off-road but that's to be expected when you're young and dumb...

 

[BobW]

Beautiful Pennsylvania summer nearly 50 years ago and one Hodaka Combat Wombat ... the rest is a blur.

Not the Combat, but I too had a Hodaka, great bike!

 

[WaydeG]

Not the Combat, but I too had a Hodaka, great bike!

The Hodaka, Maico, Jawa and Husky were for the "rich kids" while us poor schmucks got to test out the new Honda Elsinores. Great times.

 

[BobW]

My Dad had me on the back of an old WWII Harley when I was around 5 years old and I was instantly in love with everything to do with motorcycles. In 1965 we were on a family vacation in Florida and you could rent Honda Cubs (50 c.c. step through, automatic) and ride on Daytona Beach. Phuck me if the guy didn't let me take one by myself (with Dad's OK) even though I was only 8 years old and had to stand up to ride it. My constant begging for us to get one of our own was met with an offer I'm sure my folks thought would never be seen through, if I saved half the money they would match mine and we could get one. The gauntlet was thrown and every penny earned mowing lawns, shoveling sidewalks and from my paper route added up to a princely sum of approximately $160.00, my half of a new 1968 Honda Trail 90. My lust was consummated and I never looked back. I've enjoyed so many great off and on road motorcycles, worked for a couple dealerships, competed at the amateur level in Enduro and Moto Cross and have enjoyed riding all over lower 48, bits of Canada and AK. All this just wets my appetite for more and keeps lengthening my Bucket List of places to ride to next.

 

[TodkaVonic]

Many years ago right after high school I decided to buy a bike. One of the secretaries' husband had a bike for sale, a 1966 Honda CB450 that he made into a cafe racer, stripped a bit and with clip bars and really lowered gearing. At this point I had never ridden a bike but figured it can't be that hard since I knew some real schmucks with bikes that weren't killed. A friend went with me with his pickup to get it to a strip mall that night to show me how to ride it. The guy selling it started it and it sounded great with the straight pipes. I told him I'd take it and I could tell it was good and didn't need a test ride. He wouldn't sell it to me unless I took it for a ride and was satisfied with it since I worked with his wife. I didn't want to tell him I didn't know how to ride so I told him I didn't have a helmet (required in Georgia at that time) although I actually had a new 3/4 gold metal flake one I had just purchased at K-Mart for $15. He went to get me one of his extra helmets and a leather jacket. While he was in the house I asked Dennis HTH it worked. He told me it was 1 down/4 up, throttle on the right side and clutch on the left. He told me to give it enough gas that I wouldn't stall it. With them watching I started the bike, pulled the throttle all the way back and dumped the clutch. Dennis hadn't bothered to tell me to be a little less aggressive on the throttle and when releasing the clutch...

It was night time and I vividly remember the bike starting to climb as I slid back on the flat abbreviated seat and the headlight beam moving up into the trees like I was hunting raccoons. I only went a very short distance when I was suddenly on my back and the gas tank smashed down into my chest and the bike was momentarily standing upright on my chest. Luckily I was so close that they could get to me before the bike fell over and fortunately there wasn't a mark or ding on the bike. The guy asked me if I was okay and that I could buy the bike right then, he just wanted me out of there... Unfortunately I took a big divot out of his spare helmet but he dld sell the bike.

We loaded the bike in the pickup and went to a mostly vacant strip mall late that night and I learned enough to ride home semi-safely after about 30 minutes of instruction. I was living in an apartment with a friend and I told him when I came home to open the door to the apartment so I could bring the bike in because I didn't have any insurance. With the short clip bars it fit in fine but like a young obnoxious A-hole, I really cranked the throttle to let my roommate hear it. When I shut it down I could hear my neighbor through the paper-thin walls bitching to his wife about the noise at 11:00pm. Next morning I got a call from the apartment Resident Manager and I was out of the apartment that afternoon...

A week later I felt I had completely "mastered" the Honda and moved up to a 650 Bonneville... Early on I learned my leasson about helmets and have worn one on every ride (no matter how long) since then. Only accidents in 50+ years since then were long ago on dirt bikes off-road but that's to be expected when you're young and dumb...

Love it! Freakin love it.

 

[TodkaVonic]

My Dad had me on the back of an old WWII Harley when I was around 5 years old and I was instantly in love with everything to do with motorcycles. In 1965 we were on a family vacation in Florida and you could rent Honda Cubs (50 c.c. step through, automatic) and ride on Daytona Beach. Phuck me if the guy didn't let me take one by myself (with Dad's OK) even though I was only 8 years old and had to stand up to ride it. My constant begging for us to get one of our own was met with an offer I'm sure my folks thought would never be seen through, if I saved half the money they would match mine and we could get one. The gauntlet was thrown and every penny earned mowing lawns, shoveling sidewalks and from my paper route added up to a princely sum of approximately $160.00, my half of a new 1968 Honda Trail 90. My lust was consummated and I never looked back. I've enjoyed so many great off and on road motorcycles, worked for a couple dealerships, competed at the amateur level in Enduro and Moto Cross and have enjoyed riding all over lower 48, bits of Canada and AK. All this just wets my appetite for more and keeps lengthening my Bucket List of places to ride to next.

Great story, BobW. Do you ever think about getting a 1968 Trail 90 and fixing it up?

 

[BobW]

Great story, BobW. Do you ever think about getting a 1968 Trail 90 and fixing it up?

I did one and fixed it up for my boys when they were young and some POS was nice enough to steal it along with a few other items from where it was parked in our barn. My oldest son found a 110 last year that needed some love and he and his boys made it a project that they now enjoy as their first motorcycle. My Dad is just shy of 90 and no longer rides, but it's fun to have four generations kicking tires and sharing a common love of riding.

 

[VARG]

Dad rode an R75, we kids rode honda's... mini-trail 50, SL70, SL125.. got a new XL250 in 1975, a month or so old, washing it on the patio hose got caught on the kickstand, gave the hose a flip and a tug.. and the kickstand broke off, the weld on the frame failed.. and the bike tipped over on the edge of a big ceramic pot which caved in the side of the tank, creased bad.. sad day, bike looked bad and had to lean it up to park it.. anyhow honda replaced the frame under warranty and swapped over the parts.. no warranty on the tank, but did get one.. that was a great bike.. fast forward past a TL250 and lots of bicycles.. my first bmw, was an R90/6 i traded a mountain bike for back around 1993 out in SoCal.. it was a really nice mountain bike, and the R had lots of miles but it had had a great mechanic, rode that one for years, wish i still had it.