get this . . .
I remember it well. It was Sturgis 1998. I had taken my '61 CH out in the van that year (with my XL500) and I met a guy from Ironworks Magazine to shoot my bike early in the week at the Black Hills National Cemetery. It was my only Harley back then. After dual sporting the fire roads on the Honda, I took a day at the end of the week and set out on the Sportster. I rode the back way to Spearfish (through the canyon) and stopped at the trout hatchery to cool off - it was very hot that day. I went down and waded in that spring fed water, and almost froze my feet off ! My rear brake was sticking (not returning) so I went to the local Ace Hardware store and bought a nut to put on the front side of the rear brake rod so I could pull up on the pedal and back it off while riding. I ended up on the side road to Whitewood, running with a guy wearing a bright yellow Hamster shirt on an FXR - all the while working my rear brake off and on - dead man throttle, etc. There's no way he was gonna let that little Sportster pass, so when he heard those pipes coming, he really wicked it up to stay ahead. When we came into Sturgis, I pulled up next to him at the light. He wouldn't even look at me. I just wanted to say, "Hey, that was fun !" What a dick. I should have just laid down on the tank, WFO, passed close up the left-side draft, etc. He had all the stereo-typical bike gear on, kool daddy's, white tennis shoes, gold watch . . . I rode alongside with Arlen Ness once for about 6 blocks in Sturgis one year on my '64 Sportster, and he asked what year, neat bike - and I did the same. Boys will be boys.
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2 comments:
Cool recollection mate . . . and dick's will be dick's.
Funny, when I had my '63 XLCH, that shit used to happen quite a bit. Brit bike guys and Honda dudes used to chat me up all the time. Not any of the Harley guys unless they were the old timers. Unfortunately, Harley's attract the lions share of douchebags.
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