I began my motorcycle career in 1968. Earned money cutting grass, my father bought me a 1966 HONDA S90 I'd found in the for sale ads in the paper.. How many kids did the same thing... I don't know. Dozens? More likely tens of thousands.
I won't get into my very early childhood, suffice to say, I was a European kid in a world unfamiliar to me. We were refugee's from the 1956 Hungarian uprising. Displaced, perhaps a suitcase for the 4 of us. Mom, Dad, 9 year older sister.
Got picked on at Elementary school, knew no English, a foreign language to everyone except myself.
Once we'd moved from the rental home in Kensington, Edmonton to Wellington with my best pal Smokey, a derelict cat, My Father bought the little black and Chrome Honda over on the south side in the "rich district" far from the railway tracks and suburbs, I'd begun to explore. Like many kids we learned from experience. My tutorial was handing the keys over from the previous owner who had ridden the bike over handing over the keys and then disappearing in the two seater sports car they'd driven over.
Lesson one, start bike, step on the gear shifter. This would have been better done with some previous throttle work. The little Honda wheelied the five feet right into the garage door!
When Dad came home from his out of town job, instead threatening to sell the bike, we just pounded out the dent in the garage door and from there , those humble beginnings as they say, my career began with a "Bang and a crash!"
Some time later, the clutch stopped working. We took the bike to Scona Cycle on the south side and was told by it's owner that the clutch was broken and wasn't worth repairing but he would take my Super 90 in on trade, at a low value of course. Because the owners of the dealership were old time Hungarians, my Dad felt comfortable doing the trade. Only later as my experience grew, I realized that Uncle Rudy, actually , well let's say took advantage as what the bike needed was a 4$ cable.
The Honda stayed and the 1968 Suzuki "Scrambler" A 100 was taken home.
Lesson number two.
I rode that bike in the woods... well the vacant lot and it's dozen trees across the street, but it was really the beginning of my love affair with trail riding and eventually led to Baja, Motocross and adventure touring before there was such a thing!
Bike three was a 1968 Suzuki too. The famed X6 Hustler with it's 6 speed gear box. Man that bike could fly. Gaining experience I went hunting British 500's and 650's. The former had NO chance in racing the Suzuki and the hard pressed 650 models weren't reliable to even try.
Some time after that, the Hustler moved on and a Yamaha 305 Big Bear filled the space in the garage. It was "only" a five speed (the Brits were 4) the thing about the Yammie was it's high pipes, one per side, continuing my love affair with "trail/adventure" bikes.
By now my experience was gaining by leaps and bounds, the bigger bikes allowed faster speeds and the faster speed gave me the ability to extend my horizons. Both the Suzuki and Big Bear could easily roam out in the countryside. I was getting my traveling feet wet! On one trip to the Rocky mountains from home in FM, when neighbor Merv and I rode in monsoon conditions to Miette hot springs outside Jasper, (ask me about that one some time !)
At 17, I was working the summer at the "plant" in Fort MacMurray as a swamper on a fuel truck.
I made so much money I bought my first new bike. A Suzuki 350 (which was really a 315cc over bored 250 from the factory, of the Hustler.)
I loved that bike but didn't have it long. My long distance legs were growing and on a trip to FM from my home in Edmonton, I was returning on the gravel, highway 63, I was hit by a station wagon filled with 'Plamondons' from the same town as their names. They were trying to pass a slower vehicle that went by me going north (I was headed south) and fortunately as was my practice to stick as far over to the right as possible. The young girl (18) that was driving was frantic I still remember as they made room in the 5 family members and I was bundled into the station wagon and they dropped me at the hospital in FM. Had I been even 12 inches further left, I would not be here today.
Anyway... the point of all this is thus... I began small, learned the ropes, (like always to have a couple of spark lugs in the tool kit) Soon I had a Yamaha LT100 MX from where my racing passion started. By this time we were all living in Fort Mac, I was an apprentice Machinist, earning a bunch of money 3-4 times what my cohorts I'd meet in my annual visits to Tech at N.A.I.T. *
Soon in addition to the race bike in our garage I had a a brand new BMW R60/5 bought new with all that overtime money.
At the ripe old age of 20 I rode the Beemer to the east coast, and now I was a long distance motorcyclist. I had not only survived, but I had gained experience and I must say, I have had an illustrious career riding.
There isn't near enough ink to put on paper even a tenth, nay ... a quarter of the last 52 years.
If you've been following the ten years I've been doing this blog you'd know what I am talking about.
I began small, moved up carefully, tried different things, some I adored some, mey... not so much.
Became the youngest Chief Instructor in Canada, Twice named as Outstanding CI of the year, first in Alberta and after moving to PEI, here too.
To say that Motorcycles have shaped my life would be a terrible understatement of the decade.
Between the humble beginning on a used , shining black and chrome Honda Super/Sport 90 and it's episode with the garage door to traveling tends of thousands of km in Europe.
If someone told you motorcycling (and cats) have shaped my life... well, it's certainly true.
*Northern AB Institute of Technology
My last thing on the agenda this morning sitting here in my home office in Spring Valley Prince Edward Island is to cross my fingers and hope I can continue blogging for you all. Seems the Blog provider believes the format should change to one more compatible with technology.
My thoughts on that... in ways, this blog format is like that Honda 90...
