My Bike

It was a clean machine, and I loved it. It was a 1977, 750 cc Honda, with automatic transmission.
It rode like a dream, had more torque than anyone needed, sounded smooth as silk, and had
a gorgeous candy-apple red finish. Barb tolerated it with her usual kind grace, while her
mother scorned both me and it as another example of male irresponsibility.
My grad students thought I was nuts! Who's to say?

There are many things that you don't want to happen when you are out on your bike. A flat on the rear tire has to be on the top of the list. Repairing that is what is in progress here. While working in the lot of a K-Mart in Beaver Dam, WI, patching the tube with a just-purchased bicycle tire kit, and with the whole rear wheel spread around the lot, a storm appeared on the horizon. John C. and I got the tire patched and the wheel back on my bike just in time to ride back to Madison in the middle of what we later found out was a tornado. Just a nice Sunday afternoon cruise! This was the day our bikes lost their new look.

If you look closely, you can tell where in Madison I am sitting. There is a universal clue to where all bikers eventually stop in this picture. There also are clues to what time of the year it is, and even to what year. The bike was in superb shape when this was taken. My friend, John C., was with me on his bike (someone had to take the picture) and it was his idea to stop here first. I always wore a helmet. This was one of the few times I wore the open face one. They don't protect your chin! If you rear end something and slide up over the top of the windscreen, chin protection takes on new sense of importance.

This should be self explanatory. Tommy and I are doing what it takes to make a bike look good on the road. Those shiny spokes and pipes don't just happen. In the days before self-serve car washes, they came from lots of driveway work with hose, water, polishing cloth, rubbing compound, and Turtle Wax. Man, talk bout being thin! How could I have eaten all those brats and drunk all that, uhmm, diet coke, and stayed so slim. Oh sure - I was smoking then!

Tommy and I travelled around southern Wisconsin together, in both the fall and spring seasons of 1977 and 1978. Fall was sad - soon the bike would have to be drained and put up on blocks for the long Wisconsin winter. Spring was exciting, but hazardous with sand still on the roads and the first rains making them greasy. We always wore full face helmets and long pants (avoiding road rash and muffler burns), both in town and out on the road. I always felt extra responsibility with him on the back of the bike. It worked.

It had to end sooner or later. Mine did on the road. One short trip before I turned 40 I ruptured
a disk in my back (L5-S1) while riding. Here I am on 7/4/78 (my 40th) limping into the garage
holding my leg from pain in the sciatic nerve. The next morning I could hardly move.
The rest of that summer I spent on the floor (talking on the CB that son John and Barb rigged up to keep me sane).
The next spring I sold the bike for what I had paid for it, and that ended my career on the open-wheel road.
I was fortunate that I was still married, still in one large piece, and still involved with teaching.

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