Seems I have always been enamored to the two wheeled world. Of course, every young boy loves to ride bicycles, and I was not any different. I even bought a very high tech 3 speed "English" bike with money I made from my paper route which I opreated in my boyhood home in Sloatsburg, New York for a couple of years. I felt that I was something special while delivering the Nyack Journal newspapers to my customers on that great bike. I think I paid something like $53 for that brand new bike, a fortune to me at the time, but well worth it.
My first ride on a real motorcycle was when I was given a ride home from a teenager's get together when I lived with my parents in Rome, Pennsylvania. Ralph Towner, a high school clasmate of mine, had a used Harley Davidson, and offered to save me a 7 mile walk home with it. Only a few seconds hesitation from me and we were whizzing towards Rome from Bumpville ( a real geographic community). From that time on there was no turning back for me, two wheels were firmly implanted in my personality!
It took me another year to get my first motorized 2 wheeler, a 125cc Lambretta motorscooter, circa 1950 something. I had gotten my first post high school job as a trainee bank teller in Suffern, New York and this was my transportation. Luckily, I bought an automobile shortly afterward when it became apparent that the weather would not cooperate all the time and a suit and tie job at the bank was not the best match up with a two wheeler. The bank job only lasted 9 months, I was young and needed something more physical so I got a job as a surveyor's assistant. I wish I had a picture of that Lambretta that I could post here, but I don't. It had a two stroke engine and I was dumb as a rock about keeping it running. If someone had just told me to keep a pocket full of spark plugs handy I would have had a lot better time on it.
Fast forward right now about one year. I have just completed Air Force basic, then training as an electrician and got stationed at Walker AFB in Roswell, New Mexico (keep your alien jokes to yourself). I had bought an old '53 Ford, but kept it downtown at a friend's place since I did not have enough money to pay for insurance and the air base required it. The long trip to town just to access my car was short lived, and I found an ad for a 1955 Indian motorcycle in the local newspaper. Hey! I can afford the insurance for one of these! So, not even knowing anything about riding a motorcycle except what the Lambretta had taught me, I plunked down the $150 the fellow wanted for it, and, after many false starts trying to figure out the starting procedure and shift pattern for the gearbox I was able to ride off into Roswell's traffic and happiness.
This Indian was a single cylinder bike, underpowered, under lighted, under handling, and under just about anything else that modern motorcycles take for granted. I loved it! This was one of the first bikes that the Royal Enfield company of England manufactured with the Indian name after the original Indian company of Springfield, Massachusetts went belly up. They dropped the Indian name after a few years, then sold off the whole shootin' match to an Indian concern. You can still purchase a bike that looks amazingly like my '55 Indian 250cc, and even have the privilege of riding on a bike with 1950's technology. Talk about longevity!
My first ride on a real motorcycle was when I was given a ride home from a teenager's get together when I lived with my parents in Rome, Pennsylvania. Ralph Towner, a high school clasmate of mine, had a used Harley Davidson, and offered to save me a 7 mile walk home with it. Only a few seconds hesitation from me and we were whizzing towards Rome from Bumpville ( a real geographic community). From that time on there was no turning back for me, two wheels were firmly implanted in my personality!
It took me another year to get my first motorized 2 wheeler, a 125cc Lambretta motorscooter, circa 1950 something. I had gotten my first post high school job as a trainee bank teller in Suffern, New York and this was my transportation. Luckily, I bought an automobile shortly afterward when it became apparent that the weather would not cooperate all the time and a suit and tie job at the bank was not the best match up with a two wheeler. The bank job only lasted 9 months, I was young and needed something more physical so I got a job as a surveyor's assistant. I wish I had a picture of that Lambretta that I could post here, but I don't. It had a two stroke engine and I was dumb as a rock about keeping it running. If someone had just told me to keep a pocket full of spark plugs handy I would have had a lot better time on it.
Fast forward right now about one year. I have just completed Air Force basic, then training as an electrician and got stationed at Walker AFB in Roswell, New Mexico (keep your alien jokes to yourself). I had bought an old '53 Ford, but kept it downtown at a friend's place since I did not have enough money to pay for insurance and the air base required it. The long trip to town just to access my car was short lived, and I found an ad for a 1955 Indian motorcycle in the local newspaper. Hey! I can afford the insurance for one of these! So, not even knowing anything about riding a motorcycle except what the Lambretta had taught me, I plunked down the $150 the fellow wanted for it, and, after many false starts trying to figure out the starting procedure and shift pattern for the gearbox I was able to ride off into Roswell's traffic and happiness.
This Indian was a single cylinder bike, underpowered, under lighted, under handling, and under just about anything else that modern motorcycles take for granted. I loved it! This was one of the first bikes that the Royal Enfield company of England manufactured with the Indian name after the original Indian company of Springfield, Massachusetts went belly up. They dropped the Indian name after a few years, then sold off the whole shootin' match to an Indian concern. You can still purchase a bike that looks amazingly like my '55 Indian 250cc, and even have the privilege of riding on a bike with 1950's technology. Talk about longevity!
Of course, the Indian was not "cool" enough, and a friend's 1963 Honda Hawk (CB72) came up for sale for a very reasonable $400, so thanks to an understanding shirt tail cousin who co-signed a loan at the AF credit union, I was off and riding!! My cousin was also stationed at Walker AFB as a co-pilot on B-52's so I will blame every happy mile I have ever put on motorcycles after the Indian on him. Thanks, Paul!!
I rode many a happy mile on this Hawk and spent many happy hours hanging around the motorcycle shop, getting in the way I am sure, but also learning lots about proper motorcycling, maintenance and the comraderie that those people at Korky's Motorcycle Shop taught me without me even realizing it. In a future blog I intend to go into some of my memories of this place and the people who influenced me there. I owe them much, so, "Thank you very much, Ralph Coen; Bob Dove; and rest in peace Korky and Doris".
I have many pictures in my archives, I will pick the best and most interesting ones and include a few in the future postings.
