A New Record - 2 days/2 blogs

Well here I am. 66 years old and old enough to know better. BUT, after 41 years of marriage, my wife has finally relented and is willing to let me get a motorcycle! I'm looking at possibly getting a Harley-Davidson Sportster 883 Low. I don't know that I need or could safely manage a 1200, but who knows. I only know that sometime in the next month or two (or three), I will be getting a motorcycle!!!!

The last time I had one was when I was in the Army down at Ft. Hood, Texas. It was only a 250cc German Zundapp and in the short time that I owned it, it was an adventure. Biggest problem was broken clutch cables. In the 3-5 months that I had it, I must have gone through 4 cables. It was checked out every time and had the cables installed by the local bike shop in Killeen. On the road, when it would break, I learned how to run alongside the bike, jump on, and jam the thing into gear. It would shift without the clutch enough so I could get back to the shop (or base) as needed.

The last time I rode it, I had gone to the bike shop and gave a guy a ride back to base. BIG mistake, I wasn't that good a rider and he outweighed me. My friend was on his 750cc Triumph (I believe) and as I followed him on the back roads into Ft. Hood, we went around a curve at around 60 mph. There was some dirt and gravel on the center line and my rider decided we were going to slide. So he sat up and straightened out the path of the bike, right off the road, headed for a barbed wire fence. I managed to get the bike slowed down a bit and turned so we were driving at the bottom of the ditch. Unfortunately there was a telephone pole there and as we headed for it, I was starting to ride up the ditch enough to go by it, but the rider thougth I was going to hit it, so he dumped the bike. I rode it right down into the ground and was stuck under it when it stopped.

He was hobbling around since he twisted his ankle and he ignored me. My friend didn't see us go down and didn't miss us for a while. A car of GI's stopped, got the bike off of me, and looking strangely at me said I should sit down. Since I was a little woozy, I did, put my hand up to my head and felt that it was wet and bloody! When I went down, I caught a piece of barbed wire on the top of my head (no helmet!). They took me to the infirmary on the base where I had 12 stitches put in, an ace bandage on my sprained wrist, gave me some pain killer.

A memorable experience that I would not wish on anyone else. By the time I healed up, it was time for me to go to Vietnam, so I sold it and my car, and said farewell to bike riding.

Oh, by the way, I was off base without a pass and damned lucky that we had made it back to the base limits before the accident!

Oh, to be young and foolish again, instead of just foolish.