Thursday, January 19, 2012
Sunday, September 12, 2010
My story of bringing an old dirt bike back from the past, starts here.
This story begins many years ago, back in 1983 to be exact. It's about searching for a special dirt bike from my past and finally finding it after many years. Here is the photo of it the day I brought it home, August 20 2010.
I was really in to dirt bikes and my dad was supportive of this. He bought me my first dirt bike when I was twelve or thirteen. The following year we upgraded to a 1983 Suzuki DR 125. It was a great bike, it was white and blue. I loved it. Those summers were endless, I'd spend many of the days riding with my best friend, who I still consider my closest friend toady, 25 years later. We rode in some fields that were near where we lived and had some great times. All we needed was a few bucks for gas and that would last us for hours. The main field we rode in was called Binnington Meadows. I think it was just called that because the land owner's name was Mr. Binnington. There was an old access road off of Counter Street at Indian Road in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Most of that field is now developed but back in those days it was all open fields. We would ride there and many days take the trails all the way out to this place called "RM Hill". I think it was named that after the first bike that ever went up it, they say it was a Suzuki RM but I can't confirm that. RM Hill is about twenty feet high and had two trails up it, one was steeper than the other but they looked like a "V" if you looked at RM Hill from the bottom. One went left and the other went right. The one to the left was the steeper one and that's the one we rode up most of the time. We would go in a loop starting at the top of a hill looking East towards RM Hill. Going down to the bottom of the hill then up RM Hill jumping about three to five feet depending on how fast we were going. At the top of RM Hill, there was a turn around and we'd come down the other trail that wasn't as steep. We would hit the top of that going fast enough to get some air and we land at the bottom. At the right speed, we land just before the hill going down would flatten out so landing wasn't too hard on us and the bike. Go too fast and you'd land at the bottom where it is flat and you'd really feel that. That rarely happened because we'd done it so many times we'd know the speed to go by listening to our engine RPM and knowing what gear we were in. I can remember once or twice though where I was going a little too fast and really feeling it when I landed. My dad was always supportive of me riding and taught me how to ride and how to be safe. I always appreciated that and I think it made me a better rider and since he had a truck, it was awesome because he would take me riding. He'd wax his truck while I rode or he'd take pictures which I'll post if I can ever find them. This is where this story starts to get meaningful for me. After several summer of riding and having the time of my life I got a bit older and got interested in cars. My dad always being supportive of my interests agreed to let me sell my dirt bike and buy a car. It was a tough decision but when I get something on my mind it's hard to get it out. I still have trouble with this today. The summer I was sixteen, I sold the dirt bike to a school mate and bought a car. The car was a 1968 Ford Mustang which I never got on the road. I sold it to one of my high school guidance counselors who used it for parts to restore his 1967 Mustang. I bought and sold another car and ended buying a 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. My dad and I looked at it, they wanted $2500 for it in 1985 and I only could come up with $1500. We had to walk away from that deal and I was so disappointed. My dad said, "why don't you call and make them an offer, the worst thing they'll do is no accept it?". I called them and they took my offer of $1500, I was thrilled. I think we got the car home sometime in November and I couldn't wait to get it on the road, I had just turned sixteen and just gotten my license. I was so anxious to get driving. Christmas came and went and tragically, that winter, on January 21, 1986, my world cam crashing down. My dad had a massive heart attack a night I was downtown. My mom had taken him to the hospital when he was feeling chest pain, he died that night. I was sixteen years old, my life was turned upside down and I was devastated. He had just turned 50 two weeks earlier. For the next several years my mom and I spent trying to survive and get our lives back to some kind of normal. She was and is an amazing woman and managed to get our lives back to some kind of normal. For years I had regretted selling that dirt bike, not sure why but I really regretted it. Maybe it was because it was a gift from my dad, maybe it was a tangible link to better times and endless summers that were worry free, maybe it's a bit of all that. Sometime in my twenties, I contacted the guy I sold it to. He had sold it the year before but showed me photos of it, he had destroyed it, the gas tank was ruined, the seat was torn, the bike was junk. I decided that I would start searching for another one and some day restore one. An unlikely prospect but when I get something in my head I rarely can forget about it. That was probably around 1998 give or take a year. I kept searching and never saw one for sale. Over the years it became a habit but I never really thought I'd ever find one and in those days it didn't matter because I didn't have any money to buy it if I did find one but I was dreaming. I think you know what I mean. Looking for it allowed me to visit my past, maybe not in body but in spirit, it would remind me of those endless summers and of a time when my dad was alive. Several years went buy but i kept looking online. I mainly used Auto Trader's website which is very big and a great resource to search for vehicles of different kinds. I kept searching and searching for years and nothing, it came to a point where I would search but never ever expected to find one, too many years had gone by and it wasn't the kind of bike that was any different from any other dirt bike any young person would have. But to me, it was special, a tangible link to my past, kind of like a 3-D photo that you can put your hands on. Who hasn't wished they could go back in time and experience something from their past? I think that's something everyone secretly dreams about. I know I did. Finally, I was searching another website I use to search for things to buy and sell. There one was, it wasn't the bike I had because it had been destroyed but it was the same year, make, colour. I couldn't believe it, it actually brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't catch my breath. I was so excited to see one for sale after twenty five years and over ten years of searching for one, there it was. An hour away. I contacted the guy who was selling it but I didn't let him know what it meant to me. I only said I "might" be interested. little did he know I could barely control my emotions, I hadn't been that excited in I don't know how long. We agreed I would meet him in the morning. I stopped by to see my old best friend and told him what I was up to, he was excited for me as he is a motorcycle enthusiast too. He said he would go with me. The next morning came and we headed out on the road. We arrived and the guy said "well, do you want me to bring it down?". I said, "yeah, i guess so" still trying to hide my unbearable excitement. A few minutes later he came back riding the dirt bike. I was in very good condition for being twenty seven years old. I would say it was 90% complete and original. He said, "well, you'll probably want to take it for a ride so go ahead". I said, yeah, okay. I took it for a ride, I hadn't ridden a bike in years but it came right back to me. The old days came right back to me and with my old best friend there I almost couldn't tell this was twenty seven years later. The giveaway signs were my best friend's grey hair and my aching joints and three to four extra pounds I had put on. LOL!!! It was a dream come true. Still trying to keep my emotions a secret, I started to bargain with the kid. He wanted $800 for it. I would have paid double that but didn't want him to know that. I managed to get him down to $650 and with all the spare parts he had with it, it was an awesome deal. We put the bike in the back of my truck and tied her down. We also put the spare parts that came with it in the back of my truck too. Once I paid the guy and he gave me the receipt, I decided to tell him my story. He seemed to be happy the bike was going to be restored and was happy to be part of something bigger than just one guy selling a used dirt bike and one guy buying a used dirt bike. I brought the old girl home and gave it a good wash, cleaned up my garage and put her to bed. I have now started sourcing the missing parts and sourced a service manual. Once the winter hits I will take it all apart and begin the restoration. I should have it done by spring time.
I will be posting pictures here as I work away on this project. Here is a photo of the bike the day I brought it home.
I was really in to dirt bikes and my dad was supportive of this. He bought me my first dirt bike when I was twelve or thirteen. The following year we upgraded to a 1983 Suzuki DR 125. It was a great bike, it was white and blue. I loved it. Those summers were endless, I'd spend many of the days riding with my best friend, who I still consider my closest friend toady, 25 years later. We rode in some fields that were near where we lived and had some great times. All we needed was a few bucks for gas and that would last us for hours. The main field we rode in was called Binnington Meadows. I think it was just called that because the land owner's name was Mr. Binnington. There was an old access road off of Counter Street at Indian Road in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Most of that field is now developed but back in those days it was all open fields. We would ride there and many days take the trails all the way out to this place called "RM Hill". I think it was named that after the first bike that ever went up it, they say it was a Suzuki RM but I can't confirm that. RM Hill is about twenty feet high and had two trails up it, one was steeper than the other but they looked like a "V" if you looked at RM Hill from the bottom. One went left and the other went right. The one to the left was the steeper one and that's the one we rode up most of the time. We would go in a loop starting at the top of a hill looking East towards RM Hill. Going down to the bottom of the hill then up RM Hill jumping about three to five feet depending on how fast we were going. At the top of RM Hill, there was a turn around and we'd come down the other trail that wasn't as steep. We would hit the top of that going fast enough to get some air and we land at the bottom. At the right speed, we land just before the hill going down would flatten out so landing wasn't too hard on us and the bike. Go too fast and you'd land at the bottom where it is flat and you'd really feel that. That rarely happened because we'd done it so many times we'd know the speed to go by listening to our engine RPM and knowing what gear we were in. I can remember once or twice though where I was going a little too fast and really feeling it when I landed. My dad was always supportive of me riding and taught me how to ride and how to be safe. I always appreciated that and I think it made me a better rider and since he had a truck, it was awesome because he would take me riding. He'd wax his truck while I rode or he'd take pictures which I'll post if I can ever find them. This is where this story starts to get meaningful for me. After several summer of riding and having the time of my life I got a bit older and got interested in cars. My dad always being supportive of my interests agreed to let me sell my dirt bike and buy a car. It was a tough decision but when I get something on my mind it's hard to get it out. I still have trouble with this today. The summer I was sixteen, I sold the dirt bike to a school mate and bought a car. The car was a 1968 Ford Mustang which I never got on the road. I sold it to one of my high school guidance counselors who used it for parts to restore his 1967 Mustang. I bought and sold another car and ended buying a 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. My dad and I looked at it, they wanted $2500 for it in 1985 and I only could come up with $1500. We had to walk away from that deal and I was so disappointed. My dad said, "why don't you call and make them an offer, the worst thing they'll do is no accept it?". I called them and they took my offer of $1500, I was thrilled. I think we got the car home sometime in November and I couldn't wait to get it on the road, I had just turned sixteen and just gotten my license. I was so anxious to get driving. Christmas came and went and tragically, that winter, on January 21, 1986, my world cam crashing down. My dad had a massive heart attack a night I was downtown. My mom had taken him to the hospital when he was feeling chest pain, he died that night. I was sixteen years old, my life was turned upside down and I was devastated. He had just turned 50 two weeks earlier. For the next several years my mom and I spent trying to survive and get our lives back to some kind of normal. She was and is an amazing woman and managed to get our lives back to some kind of normal. For years I had regretted selling that dirt bike, not sure why but I really regretted it. Maybe it was because it was a gift from my dad, maybe it was a tangible link to better times and endless summers that were worry free, maybe it's a bit of all that. Sometime in my twenties, I contacted the guy I sold it to. He had sold it the year before but showed me photos of it, he had destroyed it, the gas tank was ruined, the seat was torn, the bike was junk. I decided that I would start searching for another one and some day restore one. An unlikely prospect but when I get something in my head I rarely can forget about it. That was probably around 1998 give or take a year. I kept searching and never saw one for sale. Over the years it became a habit but I never really thought I'd ever find one and in those days it didn't matter because I didn't have any money to buy it if I did find one but I was dreaming. I think you know what I mean. Looking for it allowed me to visit my past, maybe not in body but in spirit, it would remind me of those endless summers and of a time when my dad was alive. Several years went buy but i kept looking online. I mainly used Auto Trader's website which is very big and a great resource to search for vehicles of different kinds. I kept searching and searching for years and nothing, it came to a point where I would search but never ever expected to find one, too many years had gone by and it wasn't the kind of bike that was any different from any other dirt bike any young person would have. But to me, it was special, a tangible link to my past, kind of like a 3-D photo that you can put your hands on. Who hasn't wished they could go back in time and experience something from their past? I think that's something everyone secretly dreams about. I know I did. Finally, I was searching another website I use to search for things to buy and sell. There one was, it wasn't the bike I had because it had been destroyed but it was the same year, make, colour. I couldn't believe it, it actually brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't catch my breath. I was so excited to see one for sale after twenty five years and over ten years of searching for one, there it was. An hour away. I contacted the guy who was selling it but I didn't let him know what it meant to me. I only said I "might" be interested. little did he know I could barely control my emotions, I hadn't been that excited in I don't know how long. We agreed I would meet him in the morning. I stopped by to see my old best friend and told him what I was up to, he was excited for me as he is a motorcycle enthusiast too. He said he would go with me. The next morning came and we headed out on the road. We arrived and the guy said "well, do you want me to bring it down?". I said, "yeah, i guess so" still trying to hide my unbearable excitement. A few minutes later he came back riding the dirt bike. I was in very good condition for being twenty seven years old. I would say it was 90% complete and original. He said, "well, you'll probably want to take it for a ride so go ahead". I said, yeah, okay. I took it for a ride, I hadn't ridden a bike in years but it came right back to me. The old days came right back to me and with my old best friend there I almost couldn't tell this was twenty seven years later. The giveaway signs were my best friend's grey hair and my aching joints and three to four extra pounds I had put on. LOL!!! It was a dream come true. Still trying to keep my emotions a secret, I started to bargain with the kid. He wanted $800 for it. I would have paid double that but didn't want him to know that. I managed to get him down to $650 and with all the spare parts he had with it, it was an awesome deal. We put the bike in the back of my truck and tied her down. We also put the spare parts that came with it in the back of my truck too. Once I paid the guy and he gave me the receipt, I decided to tell him my story. He seemed to be happy the bike was going to be restored and was happy to be part of something bigger than just one guy selling a used dirt bike and one guy buying a used dirt bike. I brought the old girl home and gave it a good wash, cleaned up my garage and put her to bed. I have now started sourcing the missing parts and sourced a service manual. Once the winter hits I will take it all apart and begin the restoration. I should have it done by spring time.
I will be posting pictures here as I work away on this project. Here is a photo of the bike the day I brought it home.
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