"I pulled you over for Speeding. Do you have any idea how fast you were going?"

Regardless of what you ride, even if you don't ride at all, EVERYONE is welcome here.

Mr. Motorcycle

I am

My photo
I live at 1 Frozen place in, Minnesota, United States
My real name is Mark. For many years now my wife has called me Mr. Motorcycle. When I started my Blog I was looking for a catchy blog name, so I went with it. I'm happily married and I'm also a father of 6 children. I have two human offspring, one dog, two cats and one custom Harley. I believe that makes 6 children. When I'm not doing my real full time job, or going for a ride, I like to do art, custom paint jobs, and of course BLOG. If you would like to contact me, my e-mail address is phonetically spelled for avoiding spammers. (I actually do use the number 1 in the beginning.) 1mrmotorcycleATgmailDOTcom

*****This is my Bliss*****

*****This is my Bliss*****
Depending on your settings, Click, or Double Click on the image for full size photo.
The photo above is my ride :
"Kenny" started life as a stock '97, 883 Sportster. It's been a work in progress since the day I bought it many years ago. Its mostly custom with a built, "slightly juiced up" 1200 motor.
The Metal Fabrication, bodywork and custom paint was done by me.

How the Hell did I come up with a name like Kenny for my bike you ask?...... Most people who name their rides, go with chick names. I of course had to be different. I think bikes look tough, cool and masculine; not feminine. Plus, my father "Ken" has helped make me who I am today. Therefore with a little twist on the name, my bike was named "Kenny".


Come check out my custom paint! Click on the logo above to go to my custom paint blog.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Exactly when did I fall in love with motorcycles?

I must first say that I have been planning this post for quite some time, but fellow motorcycle blogger, FLHX Dave from http://roadgritscafe.blogspot.com/ beat me to it. I’m sure he is not the first to post this story in his own version, and I certainly hope he and I will not be the last. It makes such good reading.
The link to his post is something you should make sure to read as well. It is heartfelt, and funny. http://roadgritscafe.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-one-forgets-their-first-time.html

I’m not sure, but I know before the day I was certain, there were a lot of influences. Some were subliminal, some were not.

My very first brand new bicycle had baby ape hangers. This was just the style back in the early 70’s. In the photo, you can see, I’m the littlest one up front. My sister hiding directly behind me had ape hangers on her new bike as well, and my big brother, well, he wanted a five speed, so he got the beach cruisers. Notice my big brother's Vikings belt buckle! Too funny.

My second bicycle was a Huffy Thunder Road. This was like a motorcycle as far as I was concerned. Couldn’t imagine how many times I put playing cards in the spokes to get the potato potato potato V-twin motorcycle sound out of it. I used to pretend it was a motocross motorcycle too. (No that is not me on the Huffy.)

I remember getting a ride on my older cousin Gary’s Harley like it was yesterday. I’m not sure if he went super fast, or if it was my imagination taking hold because it was my first real motorcycle ride ever. It sure felt fast. I was in love with it and the adrenaline rush it gave me.

I remember getting a ride on the back of one of my older brother’s friend’s crotch rockets. This is when they seemed to be pretty new on the market for street legal bikes, and I know he went way too fast for having his friend's kid brother on the back with no helmet. I also know I egged him on to "go Faster - Faster!". He said we were doing about 100 MPH. THAT was cool. I was again in love with motorcycles and the adrenaline rush.

I never had a motorcycle as a kid. My folks wouldn’t have it. Too dangerous, and too much money. I had a few friends with three wheelers, mini bikes, dirt bikes, and such. I got to ride their stuff plenty. This scratched my itch, until I was a little older.

When I was 15 years old, my folks let me buy a moped with money I’d saved from lawn mowing jobs around the neighborhood. I believe, but can’t say for certain that this was when the true obsession started.

I got my driver’s license at 16 years old, and drove a car. Moped too slow, too dorky, not 18, & my folks wouldn’t let me have a motorcycle. (YET).

My mom and dad said you can’t have a motorcycle unless you are 18. I believe there was implication that I did not live with them as well, but shortly after I turned 18, ( I was 19). I bought a brand new shiny Honda Rebel 250. Burnsville Motor Sports was going out of business. The owner’s wife was selling it. It was hers. She had about 200 miles on it. Mostly from learning how to ride. She was afraid of riding so she wanted to give it up. They said I could take it home for $850.00. I paid cash that day. I had never ridden a real motorcycle on the road or anything yet, and did not really know how to ride, let alone shift. I had my buddy Johnny drive it home for me. I followed in my car. When we pulled up the driveway to my house together, my mother had just come home from work. Se said ”Hey Johnny , nice motorcycle, did you just get it? It looks brand new!” Johnny said, ”nope, it’s Mark’s. He can’t ride it yet, until I show him how.” I think my mother almost fainted when she realized he wasn’t kidding. This was similar to the reaction she had with my first tattoo. She wanted me to wash it off. (The tattoo was exactly three days after my 18th birthday.)

Anyway, back to the motorcycles. More bikes later, more stories to tell, here I am today.
I am a true obsessed motorcycle enthusiast nut. I LOVE EM!

You other motorcycle bloggers out there should share your story. Do your own post on this topic, or please feel free to write it in my comments section.
I’d love to hear your story.

Mr. Motorcycle


Anonymous said...

It was some time in the mid-late 50's I was at my grandma's house in town. I heard this sound. I looked down the street and there was a man on a Harley with a red sheep skin covered seat. The sound was mesmerizing. I was hooked. I must have been 7 or 8. A few years later I saw that bike again. It was a flathead. In 1965 I bought my first bike. Unbeknown to my parents. I hid it for a year or so. Then one of my sweet sisters let the bag out. Dad told me I had to get rid of it. I told him I would and hid it at a friends house a little longer. My friend got it off me for $35. I made a $10 profit. Man I wish I had that bike today. Had I had the money I'd a bought one a few years back. A basket case for $2500. Odd about my dad. My grandparents went looking to by a farm in 1916 and found this one. They were ridind an old Harly with a gas head lamp. I even have a picture of them on it sitting on it out front of the farm.

Webster World said...

Oh yah it was a 1953 165cc Harley Hummer.

Mr. Motorcycle said...

Thanks for Sharing that Webster World. That was pretty cool. I almost had my hands on a really old Hog like that once, but the guy never came through for me. That is another story in it self, which I will never blog about, due to the nature of the relation ship of him and I.

"Joker" said...

I think I had that exact same Huffy Thunder Road - I think even the number was the same. God I loved that thing, and just like you, I went through scads of baseball cards and clothspins.

Instead of re-typing my story of getting into motorcycling, you can read it starting here:


That's the first post in my blog. The story goes on by clicking on "newer posts."

Mr. Motorcycle said...

Too funny, and how ironic. Maybe it was the Huffy Thunder Road bicycle that did this to us. Is it a blessing or a curse? I bet we're not the only ones who are motorcycle fanatics that had one of these bikes as kids.

Guess how many kids out there have the OCC chopper bycicle now. What do you think they will end up like as adults?

Anonymous said...

I was raised a nice jewish boy, but I didn't want to get a barmitzvah. I did want a motorcycle worse than air. My parents bribed me! If I went through with the barmitzvah I could have the motorcycle. On my thirteenth birthday I became the proud owner of a brand new Yamaha YZ80 (never got the barmitzvah). In my mind, a motorcross star was borne! I was the next Bob Hannah! Bell Moto III, Scott Boots... I was Hurricane Hannah!

Mr. Motorcycle said...

Road Captain, Sounds like your folks were pretty cool. I always wanted a YZ80.

Anonymous said...

I was 36 years old, divorced, and doing the online dating thing. I met this guy who was a state trooper and rode a Harley. On our 2nd date he took me for a ride on his Low Rider. I had no idea what to wear or what to expect. I must have looked a fool when he came to pick me up. At first I was clinging on for dear life, but we ran into some traffic going through a small town during rush hour so I had an opportunity to get comfortable being on the bike while barely moving. I was much better after that. We stopped for dinner at a little Ma & Pa place where both meals, desserts, and tip came to a whopping $17. As we headed back home, the sun was setting and as it does in mid-October, the afternoon's 70 degree temperatures dropped intot he 50s. Boy was it cold! Crossing back into Maryland, he asked if I wanted to go fast...to which I surprised myself by emphatically replying YES! Then he said no, he wouldn't do that with a passenger. :-( Damned responsible cop!

I can't really say I was very impressed with the guy, but from that day on I was hooked on Harleys!

Shortly thereafter I fell in love, this time with Road Captain. I encouraged him to get back into riding, and we have pursued our motorcycle dreams together ever since. :-)

Don't you just love a happy ending?

Mr. Motorcycle said...

Mrs. RC,

Thanks for sharing your story.

Yes, I do love happy endings. I have a massage parlor right by my house. (Just kidding).

Glad you and RC found each other, and glad you both like to ride motorcycles and blog. It's a pretty cool relationship you tow have. the whold motorcycle and motorcycle blog thing togetherness.

Talk at ya later.

Mr. Motorcycle.