I would like to pay tribute to the people who gave us the love of all things motorcycle, whether it be your dad, brother, uncle, grand dad, whoever gave you the love and interest that you still have today. I have often wondered why my brother and I have always ridden bikes, never been without one from the age of ten, my brother was doing 20k a year on his at one time. We grew up with a father who rode bikes as transport, work and back stuff, nothing flash, NSU Quickly then onto a C50 then his last bike was the dizzy heights of a C90, all rebuilt a number of times, if you went anywhere it was on the back of dads bike, no helmets, a duffle coat and jeans. The point is this was the norm, no fear, none of this nonsense you often hear about bikes being dangerous, we were actively encouraged to ride, it was cold, it was wet but it was magical. My father passed away peacefully in his sleep last night, at 91 he thought it was time to go, so as I pay tribute to a man who passed on his love love of motorcycles to me and my brother, who gave you yours?
Sorry for your loss, Mike. 91 was a good innings but it's never long enough. I may share who got me hooked on motor bikes later in the thread but I wanted express my condolences.
Lovely bit of writing that Mike & my condolences to you & yours. I wish the world was still like that but biking still gives me a buzz like nothing else (albeit in full leathers, £400 lid & so on!) For me it was a gf’s brother back in 1979. I’d been a huge Sheene fan before that but it wasn’t until I went to Mallory Park on the back of his z400 that I was instantly hooked. Bought a knackered old Fizzie that weekend & other than a regrettable 9yr spell when kids, working away & life just got in the way, I’ve had bikes ever since.
Sorry to hear of your loss. I was influenced by my own father (now departed) who gave me his AP50 that he bought to commute on, but, I suspect, with a view to giving it to me. Prior to that, I remember he was giving rides around our little block in around 1965 on his C70. My big sisters both went on the back, but I was too scared as a 3 year old so insisted on riding on his shoulders!! When he gave the AP to me and taught me to ride, he said “Here, son...it’s got 3 gears...1 down, 2 up...” After my first ride I had to tell him “Actually, it has 4 gears” After my second ride I had to report...”Actually, it has 5..” My mother always hated me riding a bike but could do nothing as my dad had lit the fire already!
Sorry for your loss mike ! Sounds like you and your dad shared some great memories ! Best wishes to you and your family !
Sorry to hear of your loss, the people who gave me a love of bikes have also departed, but now I take up the mantle to pass that enthusiasm down to others, I see it as my calling.
Mike, condolences for your loss. A good age though, as you say he decided it was time. My start on two wheels was whilst on holiday in Germany as an young lad. We were staying with some friends on a farm and the father of the family thought it might entertain me and his son to drag an old zundap step-through out of the barn and get it running. He, and my dad, probably regretted this decision as I spent the next four days, until we left, riding up and down the long drive... Then my best friend's grandfather gave him an old shitter that we did up and rode around the local gravel pits. In fact there were a succession of crap bikes from his granddad as he ran a chain of bike shops and the occasional hopeless trade-in got passed our way. Went to kindergarten with said best friend, we now tour every year together, both, at long last on Ducatis
Rubbish news, but sounds like he was ready. Lost my dad 10 years ago to motor neurone disease. I know he owned an Ariel & had a Morgan 3 wheeler but never been able to find any pictures. One of those things I regret not chatting more to him about. I guess my first interest was as a youngster having a crush on one of my brothers hippy mates who rode what I can’t remember but remember thinking I want one of those. then of course I saw Kelly and that was it mind made up !
I’m so sorry to hear of your loss Mike. None of my family have the slightest interest in bikes. It’s strange you ask this question as yesterday I was in the garden and my daughter was looking at all my scars and asking the story of each. Needless to say every one of them was bike related. She asked why I started and still rode bikes. In our village there were a couple of lads a few years older than me and they had bikes. One had an XS1100 and he could wheelie this monstrosity the whole length of our village high street. To me, at the time it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. The rest is history, I’m still mates with the XS man, thankfully he doesn’t still have that awful bike but he still rides. And to answer my daughters question as to why I still ride. They’re in my blood like everyone else on this forum. All the best Mike.
My Dad had a Panther Model 75 back in the day. Of course, I never knew anything about it until a few years after I'd been riding bikes of my own. Not a big sharer, my Dad. My intro to bikes was my former mate, Gary. He let me have a go on his CZ175 and I was occasionally a pillion on his Honda CB500T. That was me hooked on bikes for the rest of my life. Shame that Gary turned out to be such a loon (and not in a good way) and so we parted company.
My introduction to motorcycles came very early, prenatal, My dad was then a stereotypical rocker and my mum I suppose a biker chick. Dad had a dommie 500 can't remember the year, but late 50's early 60's they and their like minded mates would be tearing round the south circular or a run out to Box Hill. Unknown to my folks I ended up under my mum's ever tightening jacket and made an appearance soon after. The dommie was the only family transport so the gang all chipped in and dad got a sidecar and they nailed it to the dommie. Many a happy holiday was had as a nipper at Hastings or Camber Sands. I remember very little from then, one of most enduring tho is sat on the tank with dad behind riding the combo round some long forgotten caravan park. When my brothers came along, Dad had to sell the combo and buy a car to get us all in. I've never been without a bike from the age of 12, even if it wasn't roadworthy, just knowing there was a bike in the dining room, shed or garage. I said to my first wife before we married, don't ever ask me to choose between you or the bike! We divorced 2 years later. Same statement was given to my second wife, we are still married and recently celebrated our 30th anniversary.
All on Mum's side of the family. My Grandad was my great hero. He always had bikes and fab cars, including a Capri 3.0 sport and an ......Orange .......Bond Bug. V cool. He used to let us ride his bikes in the garden of his house when we got big enough. Mum's little sister was a wild child and went by the nickname Bomber. She was always on the back of some BSA /Norton/ Triumph bombing around the South Circ. Hence the name. Her little brother visited us once when I was very young on his Norton. Think it was an Interstate but cant be sure. All are still with us apart from Grandad. Bomber (in her mid 80's) wants a ride out on the back of my Triumph STriple for old times sake. She likes the fact that its black and a Triumph. When all this shit is done I plan to take her out.
Condolences Mike. 91 is some age and I can only hope I’m granted the same. Re: bikes - My mate’s mum got me into them. He’d bought a knackered old DT125 with his first wage packet at age 17. Unfortunately his mum banned him from riding it so he sold it on to me for what he paid for it, which IIRC was £35, which I paid for out of my saved up part-time wages earned at the Jeff Bezo-esque rate of £1.21 per hour stacking shelves at the CooP. It was an absolute nail. The bars were bent and the seat clasps had become so rusty the seat would slide off the subframe when going round corners. Speaking of which, those were the days when you could just jump on a 125 without needing to take a test, so I did, without realising you needed to lean over or countersteer in bends (so I didn’t) and when I got to the first one I went straight on and ended up in someone’s garden. My mum and dad were on holiday in Cornwall at the time and when I told her I’d bought a motorbike she collapsed crying in the phone box she was calling from at Polperro Harbour. To my mum's great relief, the bike only lasted a total of a fortnight in my ownership before it met a watery end. Of course, after a whole two weeks on two wheels I considered myself an expert who was ready to teach one of my other mates how to ride, so when we were riding along a canal tow path with me on the pillion telling him what to do, I said “keep right cos there’s a big hole on the left” but he got mixed up, the front wheel went down the hole and then the rest of the bike (plus front wheel and us two) went in the canal. Best bike I ever had. I can also still remember how my first helmet smelled (stop sniggering at the back).
