Ah, the 1967(?) Honda Trail 50. This one wasn't mine. Couldn't find a picture of mine. But this one looks just like it. A lot of first's with this bike. First motorcycle. Actually, it wasn't the first I had ever ridden. My passion for Harley's was started by my Uncle back in 1956-57 with this bike. First "chop": Cut a Suzuki muffler in half, removed the baffles, instant megaphone! First encounter with the police: The megaphone drew some attention, even on a 50cc motorcycle. Cop told me to go home, put the original back on and he wouldn't give me a ticket. So I did. First time winning an argument with a cop: After I changing to the original exhaust, a straight, enclosed pipe with four slots cut into it, the cop stopped me again and became belligerent (he did, not me) when I stood my ground telling him the pipe was stock. Invited him to follow me home and ask my Father. He declined. But I also got my first "I'll be watching you!" First engine I ever tore down, put back together and it worked! First accident: Lady in a station wagon pulled out in front of me on a blind corner. On wet pavement. I locked the brakes and so did she. I was looking at kissing the rear left quarter panel but the bike slid, going down, dumping me on my ass. I continued toward the wagon on my ass. I watched the bike bounce off of her rear axle, her rear end had jumped that high when she slammed on the brakes. I stopped about 10 feet short of her car. I was okay, mostly. Ass was raw. Bike was okay, road it home. Another first: The accident was on the first day I was FORCED to wear a FULL cover Bell helmet. Shoulda had it on my ass! Had a lot of adventures and good times and that little Jap bike. It wasn't, however, the first motorcycle I ever rode on. That bike I DO have a picture of. Select K-Model from the menu.

My next bike as either this 1968 Bridgestone 90...

or this 1968 Bridgestone Mountain 90...

Just can't seem to remember which it was and can't find any of my own pictures.  I do know that Yamaha came out with their Twin 100's about this time. Supposed to be really fast.  I raced 3 of the 4 in town and won 3 races.  This little bike simply loved to do wheelies.  Or maybe it was me.  In any case, due to either its ability for wheelies, my own or a combination, I impressed a lot of girls.  That made the bike worth a lot to me.

Next was actually my Father's bike.  He went to the local bike dealer (generic) in Alamogordo and told him that he needed a bike that was good at climbing hills.  The dealer sold him this...

Again, a borrowed picture since we can't find any of our own.  This was a 1967 Moto Guzzi 125 Trial (not a misspelling).  The dealer had it left over and hot rodded it for his wife who didn't like it so Dad got it.  I was still on the Honda at this time.  When the bike wouldn't follow me and the Honda up a certain hill, Dad got pissed, took it back to the dealer and told him he wanted it fixed so that it would climb a telephone pole if you could stay on it.  He got it.  Never tried the telephone pole scenario but I had no no doubts it would do it.  Dealer changed the cylinder and piston, using a piston from some 250cc racing bike he had laying around.  Also added a larger wheel sprocket.  Sucker would climb. This is the bike I almost put over a 500 foot cliff the first time Dad let me ride it.  Oddly enough, I laid it down on a mountain corner, inches from the edge.  Dad had been following me, pulls up and while me and the bike are still on the ground says "Goin' to fast weren't ya." One other incident involving this bike was the infamous car wash fiasco.  Me and Dad had spent the day in the mountains on the bikes.  He decided we needed to wash them before going home so we pulled into the local car wash.  I finished first and started the Honda.  Dad spent the next 30 minutes kicking the Guzzi.  My Father has quite a temper (that's where I got mine).  I suspected we were in trouble because of the quality of his language.  When he produced a rope with the idea of me pulling him until he started, I knew we were in deep shit.  Tried to tell him I was going to pull him over.  All of his communication at this point was coming through clenched teeth. I pulled him over. It finally started.  He was so angry and frustrated that he opened the throttle full bore, pulled in the clutch and released it.  Without ever backing off on the throttle.  A blue flame maybe 2 inches long was erupting from the exhaust.  When he released the clutch, the front wheel came off of the ground.  It stayed that way for over half a block and....around a left hand corner.  Still on the rear wheel for another half block!  I simply stood there with my mouth open.  Realized I better try to catch him before he ran over someone.  I was half a block behind him all the way home and I was running wide open.  Wonder where that cop was that always harassed me?

The last bike I'll mention on THIS page was this one...

No, not the actual bike. The fairing on mine was smaller and better looking.  1984(?) Honda Sabre 750.  This bike was given to me when it was only a year old.  A good friend was getting a divorce, didn't want his wife to end up benefiting from the bike so he asked if I wanted it.  He said "It's not the Harley you want but it is a great bike."  He was right.  Rode it only a few times.  The throttle response was simply too scary for me.  Sold it to a friend who was a cop.  Guess he still has it. I have had many bikes of different types and displacements over the years.  Mostly Jap bikes.  Didn't really become a motorcycle owner until August 23, 2001.  The day I bought Angel.