This is kind of embarassing to admit, but...

rewindstuff said:
Who says you need an endorsement to ride?!?! I went a couple of years without an endorsement. Granted, about 2 months after I finally DID get the letter on my plastic, I got pulled over. three tickets: speeding, no insurance, and no registration. i guess thats the price you pay...

I kinda feel obligated to do it right though, being I'm a cop and all. ;) ;D

Also, the local five-oh tend to be a bit over zealous, or I might have been a little more adventerous.

I have to say, its been nice reading about some of you guys' "firsts." Great moments that can only happen once ever!
 
03rangerxlt said:
I have to say, its been nice reading about some of you guys' "firsts." Great moments that can only happen once ever!

I think Drewski wins out on the coolest story award.
 
When I was 17 my father decided he had gone long enough without a motorcycle. He started looking for something that he could ride but maybe also let my brother and I learn on. What he ended up with was an '83 Honda Magna. I think my brother and I got to ride it one time a piece before dad figured out that it was WAY too much bike for us to learn on. That was the first motorcycle I ever rode though.

Soon afterward dad helped me buy an '85 Honda Rebel. I rode that thing all over the Georgia back roads near our house in the most illegal way possible. No registration, no insurance, no license. Amazingly fun times though.
 
When I was 17, I was determined. My mom hated motorcycles. Still does. I wanted one, always had since I sneaked rides on the dirt bikes at my grandpa's property when we worked the cattle farm in the summer time. While looking around in a thrifty nickel, I found it. I had saved $200 pushing grocery carts that summer (after I bought my first car, a 1977 Plymouth Volare sedan and spent the other $800). Called the guy and found out that it was in New Orleans. He wasn't going to be home for 2 weeks. He told me where the hidden key to the gate was and I drove there after work at around 7pm. Slept in the car in a rest stop, got up early the next morning and went to grab her. Me and my now wife were on an adventure. We actually hit a dog in the Volare on the interstate but it didn't damage the car and the dog was nowhere to be found.

It was a basket case. It was a 1986 Rebel. I brought it home in the trunk and the back seat, rebuilt it, painted it, wrecked it three times, rebuilt it three times, and put over 15,000 miles on it before I sold it on. And that is what got me where I am now. A little determination and a lot of great memories.

My mom still hates motorcycles. I blame her for my addiction.
 
03rangerxlt said:
I kinda feel obligated to do it right though, being I'm a cop and all. ;) ;D

Also, the local five-oh tend to be a bit over zealous, or I might have been a little more adventerous.

I have to say, its been nice reading about some of you guys' "firsts." Great moments that can only happen once ever!

Gotta say im a little surprised man. I mean, its great that you want to do everything right and legal, but that's a rare thing around my area. My step bro is a cop, and drove on a dead tag for 8 months. During that time he was pulled over about 10 times for speeding. Never got a single ticket. I was with him for a few of those times. I was rather shocked at how they seem to regard each other as above the law, but maybe its just the area in which I live. Anyways, I like legal. Its cheaper :)
 
I was 16 at an "end of season" party at my soccer coach's house. Spotted an old motorcycle in his garage and asked him about it. It was a 1980 Honda CB400T Hawk. He hadn't ridden it in 6 years since he laid it down when he hit some gravel. He immediately asked if I wanted to buy it. His son was a year younger than me and my coach wanted to get rid of it before his son could ride it. I talked my dad into buying it for me for $500. We tried to clean the carbs out ourselves but could never get it running so we ended up taking it to a shop. While it was there I went and got my motorcycle learners permit. I ended up riding on my permit for about a year before they made me take the test. I even got pulled over for speeding once while still on my permit and told the cop I wasn't used to riding yet. He let me off with a stern warning. Eventually took the MSF class and rode that thing for ten years before I moved to Atlanta and stopped riding due to the traffic (and a baby on the way). It languished in my parents garage for another year before I told my dad he could sell it if he wanted. He got his $500 back out of it. Good investment!

Honda%20CB400T%2081.jpg


END OF LINE
 
Mr.E said:
Gotta say im a little surprised man. I mean, its great that you want to do everything right and legal, but that's a rare thing around my area. My step bro is a cop, and drove on a dead tag for 8 months. During that time he was pulled over about 10 times for speeding. Never got a single ticket. I was with him for a few of those times. I was rather shocked at how they seem to regard each other as above the law, but maybe its just the area in which I live. Anyways, I like legal. Its cheaper :)

I'm not above taking a little advantage of my badge I guess. I seem to drive everywhere with my foot to the floor. But on the flip side of that, I can't be a hypocrite about it, so I haven't written a speeding ticket since Sept. 2007. :)
 
03rangerxlt said:
I'm not above taking a little advantage of my badge I guess. I seem to drive everywhere with my foot to the floor. But on the flip side of that, I can't be a hypocrite about it, so I haven't written a speeding ticket since Sept. 2007. :)

Awesome! That's good right there. I wish more where like that. Ironically, 2007 was the last year I received a speeding ticket... from my neighbor!
 
Tim said:
Same here - bought a bike long before I had license to ride. Took it apart and put it back together before I rode it. Best way to go IMHO - you're always better off knowing your machine inside and out considering you're putting your life on the line riding it.

Exactly how I feel.

I bought a KZ650 parts bike read up on them and turned it into a great running machine. Then was time to learn to ride, which I did, on my grandmothers farm, in a field.
 
Kanticoy said:
When I was 17, I was determined. My mom hated motorcycles. Still does. I wanted one, always had since I sneaked rides on the dirt bikes at my grandpa's property when we worked the cattle farm in the summer time. While looking around in a thrifty nickel, I found it. I had saved $200 pushing grocery carts that summer (after I bought my first car, a 1977 Plymouth Volare sedan and spent the other $800). Called the guy and found out that it was in New Orleans. He wasn't going to be home for 2 weeks. He told me where the hidden key to the gate was and I drove there after work at around 7pm. Slept in the car in a rest stop, got up early the next morning and went to grab her. Me and my now wife were on an adventure. We actually hit a dog in the Volare on the interstate but it didn't damage the car and the dog was nowhere to be found.

It was a basket case. It was a 1986 Rebel. I brought it home in the trunk and the back seat, rebuilt it, painted it, wrecked it three times, rebuilt it three times, and put over 15,000 miles on it before I sold it on. And that is what got me where I am now. A little determination and a lot of great memories.

My mom still hates motorcycles. I blame her for my addiction.

Can't go wrong with a Rebel. I've still got my '85. I was fixing it up for my girlfriend but she's sort of lost interest.
 
Back
Top Bottom