It wasn't much. Just a 145cc as I recall them saying, but I can't find a reference of Harely making that displacement. It looked a lot like this 250, if I remember.
So of course...me, just a green kid, "Huh? Are you kidding?! %@&# YEAH!!"
So I kick started the bike and headed out onto the vast network of dirt roads. It was dusk and the forrest everywhere made the contrast from the headlight even darker. I road feeling like Marlin Brando for a while with the curving lane falling between the dense trees in the illumination of white light. It didn't take long for me to get lost. I'd taken so many turns. There where no lights but my own; no where to ask direction. Not a car passed. At the peak of my distress, (my dad kicked my ass for the smallest things...if he was waiting to go I'd be in deep shit, and I knew it) the engine died.
Those old small bikes didn't have batteries. When it quit so did all the light. I didn't know it could get so dark. Lost on a dirt road at night in the woods at that age...even the trees were growling. There were bear in the area and I just knew there had to be six of them looking at me from the woods, each calling dibs on their preferred piece of me.
I kicked and kicked and kicked but it stayed dark and quiet.
When I was seven I had a bad night when a rat was sleeping on my bed (not really, it was our gray cat curled up, but I was seven) and I stayed awake all night afraid to call out, fearful of awakening it into a rage...just looking at it and trembling until daylight. Dark has never been my friend. So on that deceased motorcycle that night my stress level was through the roof. I'm not sure how long I kicked that bike but giving up wasn't an option. Every time I quit to rest I could hear all that darn growling and it would rejuvenate my depleted energy.
Can you imagine facing certain doom as a pack of wolves bears down on you, and just as they spring you are miraculously hoisted out of harms way by some super hero? That is how I felt when that bike started. No sooner then the engine revved and that light burned alive did I pop the clutch and spin my butt out of there, imagining a swiping paw being the cause of the wind at my back.
I finally saw house lights through the woods and found my way back. I had been lost about 2 hours but no one missed me. Being the black sheep of us four kids I was invisible until I was in trouble. My dad was just getting up to leave as I walked in so I beat the belt by only a narrow margin. I didn't get to ride a bike again for more than five years.
I know it isn't Harley's fault but many times when I hear the name it puts me back on that dark desolate road alone - with all manner of creatures preparing to carve me up for supper. My first ride...certainly was memorable.
I couldn't resist an empty forum.
