How I met my friend Joe

In the younger days of my youth I would ride to the BMW rallies when they were within a days ride or 10 hours. At this point of my life I was a owner of a metric bike and that was fine because I could afford it. Sometimes the Family would go and other just myself.

This machine was easy on the pocket book and therefore since I was raising up a Family of teenagers, my budget was controlled by this fact. So, I had to save just like everyone else and buy a used machine. So, it came down to “how much”?.

I bought a 1983 Honda 750 c.c. black and no extras on it. It was a good bike and I enjoyed many miles on it. I would ride to these rallies with my buddies whom had moved to Beemer’s now and that was their interest and I was invited to go.

So, our first rally was only a 8 hours away and that was perfect. Only problem was these guys now rode at 120 klicks and I was left behind. And because the bike I rode was not fuel efficient at higher speeds, I had poor gas mileage so I stopped more. So, I decided to ride at my own level of comfort, aka “see you when I get there”.

As luck would have it there was a small pack of riders that were riding at the legal limit and I fell in behind them. When we pulled in for gas, guess what,they were women. I asked if they minded if I rode with them and I was ok with being the tail gunner,(last rider). No problem and that was the best ride ever, no hurries, no worries.

The only problem I had was keeping my mind on the ride, I was thinking its time for a Beemer as all these gals were riding them expect one. Anyway we made it and the guys were waiting and they were not laughing when, I pulled up with a posse of gals.(These gals were nurses, First Aid, no problem ??)

Sure I got ribbed that was ok because it was a the spirit of the ride and now there was a story to be told and retold. The women were camped close by, so I asked to help them set up only if that was ok. A Boy Scout always ask,"hey you all need help"?.

Then I smelled gas, somebody was leaking.

It turns out it was my bike, and it was a seam separation in the front, small but still not tolerable. So, I had to go look for a shop to fix it. Saturday is a rough day to find a garage to help. I was given directions to Joe’s Shop because he was always open and he says come back on Monday.??,wth??

I had to explain that was “not from here” and I needed to have repairs done soon, because this was all the wheels I had. Well, ok, but you have to get the tank off yourself and then I will repair it. So, I parked the bike in the shade and it was already 90 in the shade and humid. It was off in a hurry and then we boiled the tank in hot water and it scratched my tank, Joe said this could happen.

So, while we were doing this I had to help him with a Dodge camper and remove the rad on it and then reinstall it. It was a hot and dirty job and I was not expecting this to happen. Then the gals came over to see if they could help and Joe says, No, thank you, but come over for lunch.

Soon all repairs are done and its 4 in the afternoon and we finally had lunch. The gals didn’t stay because of shopping but wanted to be sure the bike was ok. So, we had a nice chat Joe and I and he was going to get a bike too. He needed a new hobby. He was working too much. I mentioned my Family, he didn’t say anything about his.

When it came to pay he didn’t want anything. I said we should a cold beer and I went to get some, his friends came over and they had beer too. They never really closed the shop that day, The fact that he could help and I was appreciative was enough for them. I said I needed a calendar so I could send me a thank you card for his help and he wanted to know I got home ok.

Joe is now 80 yrs younger and has decided to put on sidecar on the Harley, his legs are getting weak. Well, the boys at the Hog shop aren't making any light bikes, so you have to adapt. Our youth has passed again.!!