The Evolution of a Motorcyclist

Contrary to popular belief I wasn’t born wearing an Aerostich riding a motorcycle.  In fact my introduction to two wheels was rather funny.  I went through the usual growing pains of childhood learning to ride a tricycle and then eventually graduating to bicycle.  But once up on two wheels I had a few difficulties.  I was fine when the training wheels were in place but I really didn’t want to see them go away.  It didn’t matter that my father had adjusted them up so high that they never really touched the ground.  Oh no I had to have them on there!   Eventually I grew out of this fear and took off on a childhood career that saw me building a number of BMX bicycles that I rode daily.

Yeah, I was a ridin’ fool back then.  I rode my bicycles to school.  I rode them on my paper route six days a week.  I rode them all over creation on the weekends.  I was pretty rough on them too!  I think I broke half-dozen different frames during the time that I had my bicycle route.  Racing along with 50 pounds of papers on my back doing bunny hops over curbs and jumping everything in site.  I recall a Littlejohn racing frame that collapsed on me, a couple of Panda frames, a Schwinn or two and something else.  Eventually I got smart and picked up a Mongoose Chrome-molly frame that proved to be indestructible.  Whew!

In junior high I finally bought a 10-speed road bike.  A nice Peugeot with the hardest leather seat known to man.  I loved it!  Later on after college I spent a summer working for my buddy Matt of Sharp Bicycles.  He got my onto a nice Fuji road bike and then later onto a Ritchey mountain bike.  As much as I loved bicycles they just weren’t practical for commuting and getting around.  I needed something more.  The little Toyota that I had through college was fun but after my abuse it wasn’t doing too well.  Cars in general were pretty pricey and being on a lowly GS-7 salary I needed something I could afford.  Somehow I picked up a Cycle Guide magazine and started reading about motorcycles. They seemed like the perfect thing for me.  Two wheels, a motor, fun, and best of all…cheap!

So in February of 1985 I made the transition from cager to rider.  I bought a 1984 Kawasaki GPZ-550 from Richmond Honda.  It was silver and black with a slick Targa lower fairing on it. The perfect beginner bike right?  Yeah, sure!  I wobbled out back of the shop into the neighborhood and promptly dropped the bike while trying to make a u-turn.  Yikes!  Probably my scariest ride ever was my ride that day from Richmond to Pinole.  Somehow I made it home in one piece.  But the threat to my life wasn’t over yet.  You see I was still living at home then despite now being gainfully employed.  My buddy Tony had come by the house to admire my new purchase when my Dad drove up to the house.  He took one look at the bike and then looked both Tony and me over.  He said “Tony, is that yours?”  Tony shook his head no.  He looked at me and then in a life-saving reaction tossed him the keys.  My Dad mounted up and rode off.  About ten minutes later I heard this wailing banshee come flying through the neighborhood.  Up rolls my father with his hair swept back, tears coming from his eyes and this interesting look on his face.  His only words were…”You’re gonna kill yourself on this thing.”

He was not far off the mark.  Back in those days there were no MSF classes or basic riding schools that I knew of.  It was the school of hard knocks.  And yes, soon after I got a hard knock.  Trying to stay up with a friend of mine out on Pinole Valley Road I came through a decreasing radius sweeper and went wide on the exit.  I went ass over teakettle in the muddy shoulder.  Mostly pulled muscles for my part and a rashed fairing and bent forks on the bike.  I had it back up and running again in a month but it was a definite reality check for my riding.

Needless to say I was suddenly expected to pay rent (After all, if I could afford a new motorcycle I could afford to pay rent!), which in turn forced me to look for lodging elsewhere.  Hey, if I’m going to pay rent I’m at least going to have my own place!  So I soon found myself living in a studio apartment in Berkeley.  I rode daily although not yet to work.  In May I broke down and sold my soul.  I had gotten hooked on the motorcycle magazines and fell in love with the soon to be released Ninja 600.  The 1985 Ninja was the first of it’s kind.  A fully faired 600cc sportbike clothed in a full fairing and touting serious horsepower and great handling.  I had to have it and I did.  At the same time my buddy Tony who I often let ride my bike went out and bought his own.  We were soon referred to as the “Ninja Brothers”.  We rode everywhere on those bikes.  In fact after just over a year I put 24,000 miles on that bike.  Definitely the start of a riding love affair.

During the year of my Ninja ownership I also managed to pick up a second and third bike.  Once I did start commuting and going places I decided that I really didn’t need to be putting all those miles on the bike just riding to work and back.  So I looked around and found a cool little GPZ 550.  This time an 83 with clipon’s and a Supertrapp exhaust system.  What fun!  Unfortunately not long after I bought it someone decided to liberate it from my possession.  Not a fun experience!  I had been parking my bikes out on the street in Berkeley and the GPZ became an easy target.  Frustrated and upset I immediately turned around and bought a 1986 FZ600.  It was the perfect compliment to the Ninja.  Not as much horsepower but definitely lighter and more flickable.  Where the Ninja would lock into a line through a corned and stick to it you could flick the FZ in and then change your line at will.  Very nice.

But again as with all things spur of the moment it didn’t last.  I made the mistake that summer of walking into a Suzuki dealership.  Oh no!  The new GSX-R750 and 1100 were to die for!  Slick bodywork, hot motor, lightweight and very fast.  I was hooked!  I called my buddy Tony and told him to come on over and bring his riding gear.  I put him on the FZ and then I lead the way down to American Cycles on the Ninja.  Once there I made a trade.  Both of my bikes for one pristine clean GSX-R.  Oh what fun!

It was a dream come true!  My very own Superbike!  I rode the wheels off that thing logging 1800 miles in the first two weeks of ownership.  I then bought a Yoshimura pipe and installed it with a little jetting work.  And then it happened.  Again.  Someone decided they needed the bike more than me.  Overnight it walked away.  I woke up in the morning, looked out the window and to my disbelief it was gone.  I walked around the neighborhood in a daze looking for my bike.  Maybe they just rolled it down the block and left it somewhere?  Nope, not a chance.  It was long gone.  I later found out that more than half a dozen bikes disappeared within two weeks of purchase.  All of them had been purchased at American Cycles. 

The real pain for me was the fact that I had liability only insurance.  I had to bite the bullet, empty the savings, charge up the credit cards and buy a second one.  It was painful but worth it.  That bike meant the world to me.  I couldn’t see myself being bikeless or settling for something less.  It was the GSX-R or nothing else!

In 1987 I thanks to the peer pressure of several denizens of The Wall I chose to go to roadracing school.  Yeah, the guys wanted to go play with the AFM so I consented and went with them.  I spent hours safety wiring the brakes and oil lines and getting the bike ready.  I had purchased some leathers and good boots and gloves and was ready for the track.  But was the track ready for me?

I must say the school was a blast!  Good basic instruction mixed with plenty of challenges.  The best part was having nearly one on one instruction from one of the local fast guys.  I was hooked!  But I chose not to get into racing right away.  I had way too much invested in my GSX-R and wasn’t ready to commit it to the track.  No, instead I chose to buy an RD400 and attempt to prep and race that.  As the months rolled by that year I realized that I was a fool!  I had never ridden 2-strokes before and was bogged down in trying to rebuild this one.  I soon got fed up with the project and said to hell with it!  The GSX-R was on the track in August and became part of the mayhem in Formula I and 750 Superstreet.  I must be crazy!

For the next 7 years I raced with the AFM.  I rode my GSX-R 750 for five years working my way up from the back of the pack to the top 20.  I then switched to an 86 1100 and rode that for two years in Open Superstreet and Open GP.  I managed to work my way up into the top 5 in that group.  It was exciting, sometimes painful, often times way too expensive and yet a hell of a lot of fun.  In the end I quit racing thanks to a number of factors including the death of a friend and mentor, a couple of tough crashes and the frustration of keeping a racebike at peak performance.

During those 7 years of racing I didn’t remain stagnant where new bikes are concerned.  On the contrary, I still had the RD project hanging around along with an old TZ250D model with an RD motor stuffed inside.  I picked up a used 86 GSX-R1100 as well.  That became my primary streetbike as I converted the 750 over to permanent track duty.  Later when I switched over to racing the 1100 I managed to spin a rod bearing in that motor and render the crankshaft useless.  So I bought another 1100 from my buddy Steve and converted that bike over to full time race use.  Yeah, life was good!

But that’s not all!  In 1990 I bought a used NX250 to play around on.  It was the perfect learner bike for blasting the hills and learning a little bit about dirt.  I got bored with it and replaced it with a 91 DR350.  Now that bike was a perfect fit!  I soon found myself riding way over my head in Baja with Ray Roy and company on the Mulege Ride.  We rode over 2000 miles in 9 days and I loved every minute of it!  The DR became my weapon of choice for twisty backroad rides as well ad major dual sport adventures like the Ridgerunner 500 and the Lost Coast Enduros.

After a wicked love affair with a lawyer who learned to race I broke down and aquired an Italian mistress.  No, not a sexy lady from Italy…a sexy bike from Italy!  A Ducati 900 Superlight.  Limited edition in bright yellow with carbon fiber bits, solo seat, trick bi-metallic wheels and gobs of sex appeal.  By far the most beautiful bike I’ve ever owned and by far the biggest pain in my backside!  I managed to barely put 11000 miles on that bike in 5 years.  During that time I had a number of warranty issues including paint bubbles on my tank, disintegration of the rear wheel, replacement of the valve guides and studs in the heads, replacement of the swingarm and replacement of a second rear wheel.  That became the last high maintenance bike that I ever owned….

There have been other bikes that have slipped into and out of my garage as well.  Somewhere during my race career I did a little bit of endurance racing on a couple of 600‘s.  I inherited a couple of FZ600’s with assorted cams, cranks, and piston kits.  Somehow these projects never took off and thus collected dust for a few years before being sold off.  I bought a 1980 XT 250 for a girlfriend once.  Tried to teach her to ride on it but failed miserably.  Later I got the bike back from her (after we had split) and then gave it to another girlfriend.  She had a great time with it and I helped her tear it all apart and rebuild it.  All in all a great learning tool.

Once my racing career ended I chose to shift gears and head for the hills.  Touring seemed like the way to go and I needed something fun to ride.  This was at the end of the Ducati years and my choice was heavily influenced on what I rode at the magazine.  (I might note that I wrote for Independent Biker/Streetbike Magazine from 1991 until 1999 and got to ride a number of press bikes).  In 1996 I rode a Cal 1 + 1 Rally and did so on a Triumph Tiger.  I had that bike for a month and managed to put over 3200 miles on it without blinking.  And thus a love affair began.  I traded my Ducati for the Tiger and never looked back.  Where the Ducati only got 11000 miles on the clock after 5 years the Tiger began ticking off years 20000 miles at a time.  It was the perfect match!

Of course time didn’t stand still for other bikes in my garage either.  I sold one of my 1100s.  I sold the DR350 and bought an XR600.  I inherited my friend Steve’s Katana 600 and then went crazy with it.  Yeah, another one of those crazy situations where something gets a hold of you and shreds your wallet!

My friend Steve Mitoma was a guiding light in my life.  He encouraged my racing and motor building habit.  Supported me in many, many ways and taught me many things.  When he died I along with a number of other folks was devastated.  His girlfriend chose to give me his Katana 600.  A most unusual bike with an interesting past and a lure that I could not resist.  I still believe that it’s haunted by Steve’s spirit and sarcastic nature.

You see way back when Steve ran a shop called Performance and Design.  This shop was the heart of many racer’s careers and a focal point for many a motor build and rebuild.  Steve managed to pick up the Katana in a deal with a friend.  Soon it became the shop bike.  Steve tossed onto the bike a set of GSX-R forks and some Stortz Superbike bars.  It looked funny but worked well.  Unfortunately the people who borrowed this bike weren’t always the nicest to it.  After a series of drops and crashes Steve got fed up and painted it flat black.  (This was before the fad kicked in with the Ducati Monster and Honda 919)  But Steve had something else up his sleeve.  After a brief hiatus from the Sunday Morning Ride Steve showed up on the “600”.  I proceeded to show him the ropes in the first section.  Unfortunately I couldn’t shake him loose!  That damn Katana was right there in my mirror.  How the hell could that little 600 stay up with my 750????

In time we found out that Steve had removed the top end of the motor and installed a 750 cylinder block and head.  A little cleaning up of the ports and a decked head made that thing pretty damn quick.  Needless to say when Steve died I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take this bike home with me and keep it’s tradition alive.  But then Steve had the last laugh.  When I took the bike home I also took home a box full of goodies that were in his garage.  When I opened up the box and took inventory I found a lightened and balance crankshaft, a set of Megacycle cams, a 5mm oversize piston kit for a GSX-R750 as well as a few other goodies.  When I got done with the Katana makeover it was now close to 900ccs and ran like a rocket.  I had so much fun taking that bike out on the ride and kicking people’s butts.  The look on their face when this funny looking flat black Katana went blowing by was just too much!  In time I managed to tear up the motor and I had to rebuild it back as a 750.  Now it’s charred remains sit in my garage waiting for me to do something.  I’m still not sure what.

Up until this year I had five bikes remaining in my garage.  I had sold my racebike last year but still clung to the old GSX-R750.  I had my XR600, the Katana, a recently purchases SV650 and my Tiger all tucked away in the garage.  Unfortunately I was rudely awaked to strange sounds and then the sight of smoke pouring out of my garage late one night in January.  In the end everything in my garage was damaged by smoke and fire.  To date I’ve managed to replace the Tiger with another 96 Tiger, the XR with a 2000 XR650R and the SV became a salvage bike. I still hold onto the Katana and the old XR with the hopes of restoration.  I don’t know when and if it will happen but you never know.  Not to mention there are some pretty amazing new bikes on the market these days.  I might have to make room in the garage for something else!

Ok, one more word on the subject.  A phrase fits best....Mid life crisis!  Upon completing my garage rebuild I went out and bought a slightly used CBR1100XX.  Only 12k miles on the clock and clean, very clean.  Sometimes you just need a little horsepower to make it interesting. 

 Craig