My First Motorcycle

From the old box of photos.

Finding that old box of photos was like discovering presents under the Christmas Tree. I thought these images of my early motorcycles, horses and cars were gone, lost to history. Merry Christmas in June!

My senior year of high school (Class of 1968), I tried to buy a motorcycle that I saw for sale along the street I took to go to work. As far as I could tell, it needed a little TLC. I told the guy I would buy it. I don’t remember how much. When I arrived home, my mom told me that the guy had called to see if it was okay to sell me the bike. Her response to him was, “He is still in high school and he is not buying a motorcycle!” I was mad. Very mad. Not destructive mad, just mad.

1963 Harley-Davidson Sprint 250cc Scrambler

I had always understood that us boys were not allowed to own a car while we were in high school, but this was a motorcycle and I had been riding the Lambretta scooter that Dad bought. After I graduated, I went back to see if the bike was still was available. It was, and I bought it! It was a 1963 Harley-Davidson Sprint 250cc Scrambler. It was made in Italy by Aermacchi for Harley-Davidson. Yes, one of those. It had a kick start on the left and gear selector on the right–a four speed transmission. 

I don’t think mom was very happy with that, but I had a part-time job, and paid with my own money. So, it was now acceptable. Dad was okay with it, I think, but I am sure there were discussions.

Immediately, I started giving that bike a little TLC, but it needed more than that. It needed a mechanic. Off it went to the Harley dealer. Upon its return, I gave it a paint job–cans of automotive spray paint from the hardware store. It looked reasonably good. 

Even after “fixing it up,” the bike was still a piece of junk. Over the years, and after numerous purchases of motorcycles, I still think of that Sprint as the worst motorcycle I ever owned. Eventually, I traded it for a car, a 1965 Pontiac Lemans four-door sedan with a three-speed on the column. 

Today, that Sprint is a collector’s item. I wish I still had it. 

See you on the highway.

Brent

 

What? A Flat Tire!

I have been very fortunate over my 57 years of motorcycling to never have a flat tire while traveling. All my previous flats were discovered in my garage. But, this flat happened 35 miles from home while returning from a Kentucky campout with friends. 

Packed and ready to head home. Just put on the panniers.

I was monitoring my fuel. The computer indicated I had 90 miles before requiring fuel, and I was about 60 miles from home. As I traveled north, I decided there was no need to push it, and I pulled into a Kroger fuel station in Mount Orab, Ohio. I was tired and ready to be home.

Fueled up, I lifted the bike off the kickstand and fired it up. Rolling, the bike just felt different. Was it me, tired, or the bike. I looked at the front wheel, and kept going pulling into traffic. Now, I’m in traffic, and I realize it is the bike–most likely a flat, and safety is about 300 yards away. I cross the overpass of Ohio Route 32, see a Tire Discounters store and plenty of parking lot next to it. Stop. Get off the bike. Check the tires, and the rear is definitely flat. Thank god I have my tire repair kit with me.

That is one long screw. Unfortunately, I am not!

I empty the tire repair kit onto the ground, and commence to removing the screw and plugging the tire with one of those “mushroom” type pieces. I have used them before, and they work perfectly. Next, plug in the portable air compressor and air up. Unfortunately, this compressor, which has never been used before, failed to inflate. It failed to even start. *(^$(^))^%$%$&$@***

You get the picture. But, wait! I pulled into this parking lot just in case because right next door is the tire store, and they are busy putting new tires on cars. I walk over, and explain my predicament. Will they air me up? “Yes.” So, I walk back to the bike, start it up and gently paddle-walk it next door where I nearly drop the bike. I am so tired, I forgot to put the kickstand down. It was a muscular save, and I haven’t got much of that at age 72. 

“How much air?” “41 psi, please.” Filled up, and very thankful. No funds exchanged hands, even though it was offered. 

Off I went. Headed home for the final 35 miles. Full tank, and patched tire. 

Frankly, even though I had a flat tire on the road, I felt lucky. I was prepared, and saw the possibility of a Plan B. What I should have done was get off the bike back at the gas station, discover the flat right there, and roll it over to the air hose. But, lesson learned, and I am very thankful.

A new air compressor (different brand) was ordered the next day. 

Be well. Ride safe. See you on the highway or on the side of the road.

Brent

 

 

Ride Before the Storms

Despite the lovely weather, the forecast for the weekend and beyond was rain, rain and more rain. If I was going to get in a ride, it was Thursday. So, I rolled the Moto Guzzi V7 out of the garage, threw a leg over, fired it up and headed out of the neighborhood.

Wandering the backroads, I headed towards Loveland, OH, a lovely small town with lots going on.

Looking for a photo-op, I decided to stop at the Loveland Veterans’ Memorial, near the Little Miami River. 

Having paid my respects, I turned towards home on familiar roads. The Guzzi hummed along like a faithful steed.

See you on the highway.

Brent

 

Great Day for a Ride on the Guzzi

What a great day for a ride. Sunny and in the lower 50s, I suited up and rolled my 2020 Moto Guzzi V7iii Rough out of the garage. Kissed my wife and reassured her I would ride safe.

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I rolled out of the neighborhood and turned east along familiar roads. I always wanted to stop at the bridge over Todd’s Fork, but always seemed to be going in the other direction. Not today. This stream has some good fishing, but parking is not so easy to find.

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Further down the road, and on Ohio SR 350, I stopped for a photo at Fort Ancient. This Hopewell Mound Community is one of the sites in Ohio that is under application as a UNESCO World Heritage site.

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Further on SR 350, where the highway crosses the Little Miami River, a popular river access site enables canoers and kayakers to enter the river. Morgan’s Canoe, sits next to this state access site, and offers canoes and kayaks for rent giving you a lazy meander down the river.

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Crossing the river and winding up to the top of the bluff, I headed home to get ready for the opening day for baseball, Cincinnati Reds vs. Pittsburgh Pirates. It has always been a big rivalry. Go Reds.

See you on the highway.

Brent

Ohio River Towns Project Revived

All things considered, I really want to finish this project. Accidentally, it began when I moved to the Cincinnati area and started photographing towns along the Ohio River. Eventually, I realized I had a project.

So, here we go. 2023 is the year. For more info, see the Ohio River Towns page.

See you on the highway…. somewhere along the Ohio River.

Brent