My wife asked me why I was getting into the past and putting this blog page together. Motorcycles were always a big part of my life and to tell you the truth, I had almost forgotten them. The bikes changed as I did, and in a way they were a reflection of who I was at the given time. This was a part of my life that my kids never knew, so I think they might enjoy reading about the more rebellious side of their old dad. Hope you enjoy reading this page as much as I enjoyed pulling it together. ~Bob

Every Bike Picture Tells a Story

KAWASAKI 90

My sister and brother-in-law were always very involved in politics. Claudia was a 'Kennedy Girl' as a teen, and I still have photos of John F. Kennedy that she took in Hartford, CT during a 1960 rally. Kennedy would run against Nixon, but by the time I turned 16, Nixon was running again and my sister and brother-in-law Eddie were supporting the Republican Party.
(Photo Copyright Claudia Rich Hojnowski)
Eddie was running for alderman, and I worked hard to get him elected. One of my jobs was to call voters on election day to get the vote out. As a reward for my work, I got to get within handshake distance of Nixon during a political rally, and I was given a hard to get summer job; washing state cars at the DMV. I spent that summer hand washing and cleaning out hundreds of identical black cars which made for very long days, but I did manage to save enough to pay for this used Kawasaki 90. I bought the bike from a guy who was upgrading to a new 125. In those days, there was nothing hotter on the street than the Kawasaki 500 two stroke triple; my dream machine. A 90 was small, but not as small as it looks today. It was a blast to drive around with, and I could even buzz around with my friends on the back. This was my first experience with a motocycle or a clutch.

The bike was dropped off at my house by the owner, and to tell you the truth, at that time I didn't know a clutch from a brake. My house butted up against a cow pasture, so I proceeded to push the bike down the dirt road to where it intersected a second untraveled road. I spent the next half hour or so starting and stalling. Starting and stalling. When I did get it finally rolling, I lost control of it and drove the front wheel right up the side of a parked tractor until it stalled. I quickly yanked the bike down in hopes that my parents didn't catch a glimpse of what had just happened. At least the bike wasn't damaged. By the end of the day I got the hang of it and was riding it all through the fields. I soon had my motorcycle license and was riding it on the street.

I only remember laying the bike down once. I was on the way to my friend's house and there was a huge oil spill on the street. The bike immediately went down and I instinctively pulled the bike on top of myself so it wouldn't get damaged. The pavement ground a good 1/2" off the back of my helmet and I ended up with very minor damage to the bike. The road burns did heal in time. The bike wouldn't have...at least that was my reasoning at the time.

I did say I only laid it down once, but I did 'CRASH' the bike another time. The night before, I had watched the newly released movie Evil Knievel at a drive-in with my buddy. I was psyched baby! It was early morning and I was on my way to work. I stopped at a light, waiting for it to change, gunning the little two stroke and preparing to pop the clutch and wheelie away. The light changed, the clutch was popped and the bike shot straight out from under me and went airborne! I rolled onto the street and out of the way before the bike crashed to the ground. I'll never forget laying in the street next to my smashed bike when a car drove slowly by. A guy stuck his head out the window; not to see if I was OK but just to shake his head in disgust. Boy, did I feel like an ass. I did manage to get my mangled bike rolling again, broken clutch and brake levers, bent steering and all, and made it to work that morning like a cripple. I took the next day off and worked frantically to replace and repair the damage and within a short time, the bike was again like new. I was a fanatic over this bike. Every time I rode it I took everything apart and cleaned every part with gas from a spray bottle...in my basement...near the burning oil furnace. I still can't figure out how I didn't blow the house up.

I had more fun with that bike. This was back in 1970. I used to go hunting by strapping a 12 gauge shotgun on my back and riding from New Britain to Cromwell via the Berlin Turnpike. Do that today and I'd be on the 6:00 news being filmed from Chopper 8 while being chased by a SWAT team. In those days people were smart enough to know that a kid with a shotgun was going hunting and wouldn't think twice about it.

I'd often drive the reservoir roads and the surrounding trails, then start a campfire, unroll a sleeping bag and crash for the night. It was against the law but I was never caught. Those were great times.

This bike served as the ultimate multi-purpose machine: enduro, street bike (I did ride it on route 84), ATV and drag machine. I finally killed it by trying to see how fast I could wind it out. Taking it to John Downey Drive, the local industrial park that was much like a huge drag strip, I laid down on the tank and opened it up. With a strong tail wind and a slight downhill, I could get it over 60. This time the engine simply shut down like someone hitting the kill switch. I blew the rings and that was it for this bike. I had just enlisted in the Navy anyway, so where I was going I wouldn't need it.

YAMAHA 550

I bought this bike when I returned to my home port, Port Hueneme, California after having served a year on the Naval Station Adak, an island in the middle of the Bering Sea. I actually had my heart set on a beautiful deep purple metal flake Triumph Spitfire, but my old man refused to co-sign so my next option was to purchase a lower priced new bike. These were the days of the chopper, but I never liked their unpractical configuration. I wanted something that was comfortable that I could ride long distances. This bike filled the bill. I put on a set of pullback handle bars, a seat back and foot pegs. I also added some shorty pipes as you can see in the photo, which gave it a more throaty sound.
(Me training at Camp Pendleton)
Most of the time my Navy roommate was sitting on the back, and we went everywhere whenever we had a free minute. That bike took us all over Highway 101, the Pacific Coast Highway, through Yosemite and Sequoya National Parks and everywhere in between. I laid the bike down only once, while traveling very slowly through a national park. Every so often there were dips in the road to let water run off and the bottom of those dips were as slick as ice caused by a film of algae. I hit one at about 5 MPH and the bike laid down in a half a second, leaving me standing in the road. Other than some worn pegs, there wasn't any damage.

This machine didn't have a lot of character and it was nothing to look at, but it did run flawlessly...except for one time. I had the shop where I bought the bike weld up some custom extended clutch and brake cables to go with my new pullback handlebars. On the way back to the base, I stopped at a light at a 4-way intersection. As I waited for the light...the clutch cable snapped and I shot across the intersection like a rocket! I spun the bike around but didn't lay it down before it stalled. Another very close call, but that screwup was from the bike shop and not Yamaha. That's about all I can remember right now about this bike. When I was stationed in Cuba, I had my buddy Chief Miller sell it for me because I wasn't returning to the west coast. It ended up costing me to get rid of it because the local bike shop had to return it to stock condition to sell it. That sucked.

HONDA SHADOW 700

After getting out of the Navy, I returned to school on the GI Bill and didn't have extra cash for fun things like motorcycles. I ended up marrying the girl that I started dating in my freshman year at art school, and she really didn't like bikes, so getting one didn't enter my mind much. In the early 80's we graduated and started working as commercial artists. Coleco and Milton Bradley were giving up a steady stream of work and we were doing quite well. This bike was how I rewarded myself. It was a powerful V-Twin for a Jap bike, sounded nice and was a lot of fun to ride. With self-adjusting valves and a drive shaft, it was almost maintenance free. I installed at full fairing that allowed me to make use of the bike during the winter months. I had a 2-piece ski-type riding suite that kept me warm even in the coldest weather, so if I could find a strip of pavement through the snow, I was riding. Even the Harley guys would wave when I rode by, and that was unusual. My wife never liked riding on the bike, so I usually road alone unless I went cruising with the guys.

Bev and I went to school with a girl named Evelyn, and we became quite close with her and her husband Wayne. Wayne had a Kawasaki Sport Bike and Evelyn's brother and his friend had brand new BMWs. Another friend had a beautiful Ducati, and we started cruising up north together. One time we spent the night in an upstate NY state park. By the time we arrived it began to snow and the Ducati had a flat. It was freezing and we weren't prepared for it. I started a fire by wrapping wet logs with plastic trash bags and lighting them up. I slept the night with chemical hand warmers on my face while we froze in our thin sleeping bags. I had a can of fix-a-flat that saved the day and got our friend all the way home. One thing I'll never forget is how much my back hurt during that long trip. Within a week I traded the Honda for a used 700 sport bike.

SUZUKI GS700E

This ended up being the smoothest riding, most comfortable bike I've owned. I kept it spotless and people would often open their windows at stop lights to compliment me on the machine. The tires on it were almost bald, so I immediately put on a new pair that were high-end and slightly over-sized. I also upholstered the seat. There was a tiny rip in the vinyl, so instead of buying a new seat, I thought I'd do my best to upholster what I had. This was prior to the Internet, so there was no Google search to get some fast instructions. I had to wing it. I went to a local fabric store and bought some vinyl, then took my wife's hair dryer and heated it until it became soft and pliable. I was then able to tightly stretch and stapled the seat cover and it ended up coming out beautiful. Everyone I showed was amazed...including myself. One story I won't forget was when I was doing a valve adjustment. If I remember correctly, it had 16 valves to adjust, and unlike the Honda, this bike needed to be tuned regularly. One time while adjusting the valves I dropped a head bolt deep into a cylinder. My heart almost stopped! As I looked into the engine, I could barely see a glimmer of the chrome bolt way down into the cylinder. I ended up heating a kneaded rubber art erasure and pushing it onto the end of a long screwdriver. I said a prayer, held my breath and lowered the eraser toward the glimmer. I felt something, pushed down and lifted it out. It had stuck to the erasure! It was like seeing someone rise from the dead. I still can't believe that it worked. Is there a patron saint of motorcycles? I need to look into that and thank him.

I did a lot of riding over the next few years on this machine, but when economic times became tough, I sold the bike to make a lousy house payment. That hurt, but it was also a godsend, getting us through a tough time in our lives so we could get ourselves back on track. By now we had a baby girl, so the family of course came first. It's been years since I sold that bike, and until recently, I'd get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I'd smell spring in the air or the aroma of falling leaves. I called it motorcycle fever. But over the past few years I've rediscovered other interests which have filled that gap. I've once again taken up hunting and shooting, which was another interest that has also been a thread that is woven throughout my life. Now when I smell the leaves, I want to be walking through them on a hunt instead of riding by them. Instead of riding alone on my bike looking at my friends in my mirrors, I'd rather be hunting with them or driving with them in my Jeep to a range to shoot. Who knows if I'll ever get another bike. Gas is getting more expensive and that's a convincing argument for getting one. The cons include the increasing purchase price, the high cost of upkeep and added insurance. The roads are also much more congested in the state than they used to be, making the roads much more dangerous. But who knows? Maybe when you check back next time there will be a new photo below, especially if I come across a deal I can't refuse.

Check out this letter from Mike Adams at the Up North Journal Podcast

"Bob: I just checked out your motorcycle blog! Wow we have more in common than I thought! I used to ride bikes also. When I saw that Suzuki GS700E I could have flipped. I owned two Suzuki GSXR 750 's I also owned a Ninja 900 and a two stroke Yamaha 350 RZ race bike with a full set of plastic. I also owned a lot of other dirt bikes and trail bikes as a kid. Are you sure your not a long lost brother of mine? LOL Those old pictures brought back a ton of old memories (Before kids and marriage). As a matter of fact that is how I met my wife. I was cruising town on the old 750 trying to act cool. I saw her and stopped to talk to her and her friend. Her friend really liked me but I really liked my future wife better. The next time I saw her was when she was sitting at the local A&W hotdog stand and I waved to her. I wasn't looking ahead of me, when I turned back around a car had stopped dead in front of me. Luckily I was only going 25 mph, I slammed the front brakes on, only to wash out in some loose stone on the pavement. After cussing myself out for being an idiot, the rest was true love and now I have no motorcycles and 4 kids! It was all worth it though. Thanks for the motorcycle blog, it brought me back to a good time in my past. "

Mike Adams
Up North Journal
www.upnorthjournal.com


Bob,

I was cruisin your blog reading about your shoot with the S&W (nice choice) and noticed your motorcycle blog.... I started laughing when I saw Mikes letter to you....cause I'm probably at fault for getting him on bigger bikes. You'll have to ask him about his "first" road bike... I came up to cruies with him on a Honda Interceptor 500 so he borrowed his dad's Goldwing so we could cruise town. I distinctly remember him driving through the grass on an on ramp because he was trying to keep up with me on the Interceptor....I guess he just decided he needed something that could keep up a little better. ..he got the RZ and I got a mellow Yamaha Maxim. Too mild for me so I got a Kaw GPZ1100 fuel injected Red Beast. I had to keep putting Metzler Red Dots on the thing just to keep it on the road...hehehe (I was getting about 3000 miles a tire). Mike got the 900 and then the GSXRs....I had to dump my GPZ when a little kid ran out in front of me on a curve...right side drop...rolled the throttle wide open and I didn't have a limiter on it. I drove it home and pulled the head bolts out with my fingers, talk about compression. I needed a car and the insurance company gave me enough for a big chunk on one...got married...got kids...got no bike.... guess we're all in the "huntin no bike" club. I've rebuilt a couple since then but they've only been 600's and too small for me (made the wife happy I was working on a bike but wasn't gonna keep it). I'm currently eyeballing an old FJ1200 at an online auction needing to be rebuilt...haven't mentioned it to the wife yet... ( and I remember laughing my a%% off when Mike hit the back of that van when he was looking at Shannon...hehehe....just don't ask him for anymore stories)

Someday for all of us...

-Kevin

PS: if any Sheriffs deputy's from Michigan read this....the bike was not realy Red and that was not me driving it back then...no comment.