Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'Photos' started by runpet, Aug 19, 2017.
Here is dad @ either Put in Bay or the Glen.
Not on the bike, but he was inspecting the bike...he never rode that I knew of. This was taken in spring 1971 and he passed away in July at the young age of 51.
My dad bought me my first dirt
bike when I was 12. His last road bike was a Harley he got after the war. He still has a keen interest in bikes. His dad rode a Henderson.
This video brought back some good memories. Beautiful day, a dog and of course no helmets or anything else. Somehow most of us survived.
My dad on his first bike circa 1946 on the family farm with my grandpa on the honey wagon.
Not on a bike but on a tractor my grandpa built around 1928. My dad must have been 4 or 5. I remember playing on the same tractor when I was the same age.
And it was parked in the exact same spot. Of course being a little shit I broke the glass on the gauges.
Not on a bike but here is my Great-Grandfather Brookes somewhere in what was then Indian Territory (Oklahoma). Not sure of the year
My parents mounted on what is believed to be a 1930s New Hudson 350. Supposedly, this picture shows them leaving my mother's home in Mannerup, Denmark on their honeymoon in June 1947. My mother is still living at 90, my dad passed away in 1996. They weren't too thrilled when I developed an interest in motorcycles in my early teens but with this picture on display in our living room, they didn't have much ammunition to argue against the motorcycle passion.
Dad on his Moto Guzzi Ambassador around 1975. He was an avid Guzzi rider.
1980 or so..... Dad on an XL 175..... deer hunting in Utah.
I always like an excuse to share this. My dad and mom on their honeymoon.
My F-i-L, what a great guy!
XL175! My first bike & what I learned to ride on. Just happen to have a photo of my Dad on one too! Not hunting, but being a novice deer hunter myself, this gives me some ideas! The scabbard is pretty skookum. I just got a Honda CRF recently to help scout the back roads. Unfortunately everything is kind of shut down due to wildfires at the moment.
Yay, this is a little bit of alright.
Nothing like a swig of beer from an old stubby bottle.
Sadly I lost Dad this past June, great memories here. My new Honda will be named "Hank"!
Very cool photos! Good memories....
I was never raised around motorcycles, or did my family have anything to do with them, but I traded a ATV for a Triumph Thunderbird when I was 47, and I've never looked back. The rest of my family is finally getting resolved to the fact that this is not a mid life crisis of some sort, but a way of life now. If it incapacitates or kills me eventually? so be it... I'm tired of living in fear.
Father in law. In his youth he would stand on the seat and ride beside another doing the same holding hands.
He would ride home on a cold evening, tighten the steering (40's model) and ride home with his hands in his pockets.
He thought that 1974 "bowling ball" Harley would out run my 1975 900 Kawasaki. He learned.
He had a long riding career. Gone nearly ten years now. Miss him a lot.
A short story about a last ride.
I enjoy traveling. I really enjoy long road trips. I have put on a few miles but nothing like my dad.
My dad was an “over the road” truck driver and was for a long time. He started driving tanker trucks in the Air Force and later in the Army.
After the service he was an owner operator. There is a picture of me standing on the fuel tank of his GMC Detroit diesel powered tractor when I was 2 years old.
Sometime later he sold his truck and drove for a trucking company. He said “now if it breaks I just need a dime for a phone call”
In 1973 he received an award for driving One Million Miles without an accident and in 1984 he received another award for driving Two Million Miles without an accident.
He would leave on Sunday night and return Saturday morning so he didn’t spend much time traveling when he wasn’t working.
In 1973 he also started to ride a motorcycle (that’s another story). He never left the state on it but he always had one.
Dad always said he was going to travel with my mom when he retired and when he did retire he bought a van for the road trips.
He had traveled a lot but really hadn’t seen much more than what was along the highway and this would also be a chance for my mom to travel but .... it was too late. Mom had too many health issues and couldn’t do the long trips. He sold the van and went back to work driving trucks.
He worked and drove trucks until he was 80 years old! He didn’t quit, the company he was driving for told him to take some time off until he felt better.
My dad was not happy about this, he still enjoyed driving even thou he was limited to driving in-state. Always had a story.
He was fighting cancer at the time and was getting weaker. I was surprised they let him drive as long as they did. That was in 2007.
Father’s Day, May 2008 – I called my dad and asked if he wanted to go for a short ride on Father’s Day. The plan was to ride to a local VFW Post.
He was 81 years old and still riding but it was getting harder to do. This would be a tough 20 mile ride for him. He said he was having good days and bad days but said he would try.
There was also a chance of rain so I wasn’t sure this ride would happen but I was hoping.
We rode to the Post and spent some time looking at the tank and the planes that were on display. It was a nice sunny day.
After we walked around for a while he says “want to get a beer?” I was kind of surprised by this and said “are you sure you should?”
His reply “I think it will be okay” He added that earlier that week he had been told that there would be no more surgeries or treatments, they had done all they could.
We walked into the bar and had our beer.
He asked if I was planning any rides. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to tell him what I was planning that year.
When I had told him about the other Iron Butts rides he would always try to talk me out of trying them. Said the rides were too dangerous.
I started to tell him the details of the 48 States in less than 10 Days ride knowing he would start to tell me why I shouldn’t do it.
Instead he asks “which way are you going first?” I told him I was going to head to the northeast first.
There was a long pause and then he says “I wish I could go with you.” ....... I didn’t know what to say.
It was a good day but also a sad day. Neither of us knew it at the time but this would be his last ride.
I did the 48/10 and called him from the four corners to tell him about my progress. When I got home I downloaded the pictures to my laptop.
I showed him the pictures; he really seemed to enjoy the story and had a lot of questions. That was his last good day and three weeks later he died.
When my sister and I were making the arrangements she mentioned how much our dad enjoyed riding his motorcycle.
The director of the funeral home said “do you want to bring his bike inside and display it?”
I replied “What!?” “We can do that?” He says sure, let’s just hope the fire marshal doesn’t come that day.
So I rode my dad’s bike to the funeral home, pushed it inside and setup the picture boards next to the bike.
Seeing the bike inside really lightened up everyone’s mood and it got everyone talking. It was a great idea.
His total miles driven? I can’t even image.
Dad on the ride back home, the last ride -