The Laughing Wolf

Of Parties and Motorcycles

Had a wonderful time last night at a birthday party. A group of us got the chance to honor a person who has done a lot for the community, under the guise of celebrating his birthday. He turns a pretty red. It was also the birthday party of a wonderful young lady, who is now engaged to a good guy (sorry, ain’t going to call him pretty). It was a lot of fun, and discussions of birthday spankings brought about mahem and merriment. She turns a pretty red too.

It was a good chance to meet some new people, and to get to know some casual acquaintances much better. At least one spouse got somewhat disgusted when a group of us got to talking weapons and such, and I am still green with envy over what one person got to do and gets to do. I also discovered that a certain redhead startles easy, and took a certain wolfish delight in the stalk and squeal. Similar to cats and mice, but much more fun in my book.

It was also a chance to visit the new house. My host, the good guy, just moved from being an almost next door neighbor to a wonderful new home. One of the nicest things about it is a three-car garage, currently filled with moving stuff from two abodes, and his Harley. It is a beautiful bike, though purple just is not my colour. I tend to go for silvers, blues, and blacks.

Which is funny, given that the bike I have ridden the most was sort-of red. I think it started out a bright red, but by the time it came into my life it might charitably be described as weathered. And non-operational. Its owner had been in the Coast Guard, and was now using GI benefits to attend college. He was a character, but we got along tolerably well. So much so, that a deal was struck. I ended up rebuilding the bike for him, so that I could use it. He bought major parts, and I did the rest.

It was an old Honda 400-4. A rice-burner and not the sexiest bike on the road, but solid. Parts of the engine were solid at that point, and one of the things I had to do was pull the rotor out (oh, for some explosives), whip it on a lathe, and work on it. Didn’t really try too hard to make it true again, just shaved off enough to avoid impacts and binding. Once we could get the engine to turn over, things got a lot easier.

We couldn’t do as much as we wanted, because both of us were broke undergrads. Still, I got it up and running, but it needed some front work to deal with the death wobble that came in between 80 and 90. Somewhere closer to the speed limit it was quite stable, and that four cylinder made for a comfortable ride.

I couldn’t afford leather, so used my OD green army jacket, and it did okay. I rode it everywhere, around town and out for trips. It got me involved with a couple of groups, and even a member of a much more serious motorcycle group gave some acceptance and support. Think he was highly amused about me and my enthusiasm as much as anything…

I have no idea where bike or owner are today, but just let me say: Thanks. Learned a lot, and had a lot of fun.

I would ask my friend if I could use his bike, but I just don’t see me doing purple.

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