Truthfully, I am here doing this because I can't not do this. I was born into a car family. Surrounded by hot rods, muscle cars, 80's euro cars, auto-crossing, dirt track racing and drag racing to name a few influences. My dad started restoring a 69 Camaro when I was about 6. I absorbed everything that I could, watching closely, helping when I could, reading every hot rod and car magazine I could get my hands on. I was hooked.
To add to the motor mayhem I grew up with, my next door neighbors Jon and Dan were into motocross and eventually got to a serious competitive level. You can see where this is going. They wrenched on their own bikes with the help of their dad Dave who was like a second dad to me. I was part of their crew as well and they let me turn wrenches on the bikes. All of this was adding up to something I had no idea could affect me at an adult level.
Then there was this one night we were at the elementary school near our house. We were riding our bmx's around and the school janitor pulls out on an amazing low riding Harley. Ape hangers, straight pipes, low and black, a very latino lowrider styled bike with white walls. It was at this moment surrounded by my buddies and the smell of spent exhaust fumes from the very loud piped Harley that rumbled the ground right before me, I was officially hooked. It was over. I had to have a motorcycle. It was also at this point that I learned of my parents dislike for motorcycles. A battle I would fight for many years to come.
Needless to say I didn't get a motorcycle. I couldn't go ride mx with the neighbors they were "too dangerous" and then I had the stories about my dads motorcycle accident he had when he was younger and shouldn't have been riding. and on and on. Now a very discouraged young boy, I snuck around and rode every damn thing with two wheels and a motor I could find. Built mini choppers with 5horse Briggs engines etc. It was on!
As I got older and moved out on my own there were many projects as well as couple riders I've had. Some fun builds, some I should have not sold. Like my last Cb 450. I miss that bike dearly but it was for a good cause you see. The money from the silver and candy blue flaked machine was used to buy a dirt bike for my at the time 11 year old son. (See what I did there) I would not let history repeat it self and got him hooked in the two wheeled madness I so badly needed as a kid. We don't live through our kids do we?
My dad and I have always been pals. But not without the usual father son drama that happens when teenagers know more than their parents. Hahaha. We had our highs and lows so to speak. In high school we had a great bond and a lot of time to spend together. Most nights we'd be in the garage together messing around with something. Whether it was a house project we would do together or separate things in the same garage, we were buds and having each other there was all we needed. As a younger boy I went to endless. Car shows in his Camaro we would leave the house when it was still dark. My job when we'd get there was interior detail. I knew the drill and we could make good time getting the car cleaned up and ready for the days show. A good team you could say.
As time went by and we both were engulfed by our own separate lives there was more drama and family tension that would pull us farther apart. Not purposely but through time and lack of effort on both parts we had drifted far apart and my life as a husband and father and his life struggles made it very hard to repair any holes that were left in the relationship.
I thought about this a lot and it saddened me deeply that I had lost that tight close friend I had for many years. Longing for ways to refresh that bond. Maybe dad will get back into his Camaro and we can do some shows together? Maybe we can get him to come to the beach and hang out while we surf? I could show him how to surf! A lot of questions and no answers.
My dad then made one of the most incredible decisions of his life. He had finally come to terms with the fact that he had a drinking problem. Something we all wished would happen. we could see the amazing passionate person inside fading away and covered by a hydraulic haze. A thing to know about my dad. He will do the best at everything he tries. And there was no exception when it came to drinking. He was damn good at it.
He saved his own life by making the choice to change. It is now two years later and that amazing passionate caring and thoughtful man has surfaced again. I ensure you it was no easy task but remember, this guy is as stubborn as the day is long. And if he decides to put his life on track he is gonna do the best damn job at it.
Christmas 2011 I get a call from my dad. We had been in much better contact by this point and slowly repairing that lost bond we once had. He says. "Hey I'm close to your work and my truck is acting up, can I stop by". So a few minutes later he pulls up he has the smile of the Grinch. I see a headlight peeking over the cab of his truck. He hops out. "Look what I bought myself for Christmas." He says with the excitement of a 5 year old who just got a new bike without training wheels. I walk around the back of the truck and there it is. The very thing that would recreate that passion and bond between us without us even knowing it at the time. A brand new black with gold stripe Triumph Thruxton. 900cc's of retro styled awesome. I just about fell over. "Dad. You. A Triumph. Hell yeah!"
I was a proud son at this point. A day I never could have seen coming.
Since then there has been a slow progression of more hanging out bonding, late nights in the garage, drinking soda water and listening to late nights with Alice Cooper. His bike has come a long way but in the process we have become even closer friends. Now armed with maturity and wisdom on both ends, mix in a little experience and attention to nit picking details and we have a great "Triumph" to show for it!
Don't take my words for it I will let the pictures say the rest. An ever evolving relationship between man and machine mends the bonds of real life.
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