Two Wheels

I've been working on my Hon-da motorcycle lately. It's a 200cc dirt bike from 1986. I even have a service manual for it and the project has constant-ly humbled me.

I bought it from my step brother for $400 and it has been a boon for checking cattle and crops. Even though it is a Honda, it hasn't been perfect. It has got to be the most cold-blooded beast I've ever owned. Parts availability is amazing and Jed and the mechanic at Mason City Honda have helped me keep it going.

I had a friend in Santa Monica who was Esther Wil-liams' son. He was riding through a 25 mile per hour area and had his legs smashed by a rude driver. That is when I decided to not own a road bike. But I did anyway.

I bought a Honda 160 Scrambler. Scrambler meant the exhaust went high instead of along the bottom of the bike. That thing was the model of reliability.

Except... I rode it 400 miles from Oakland to Newport Beach. It was 15 cubic inches displacement, the minimum legal size engine for an interstate. That baby was wound out pretty good. The formerly chrome pipes were blue when I got to Newport.

As I went by Santa Cruz the throttle cable broke. It was Saturday and I was lucky to find a dealer open. But the new cable didn't fit. I slept under an oleander bush. A cop woke me up the next morning saying I was alright but he was worried for my safety. Off I went on a nice Sunday morn-ing walk. I went by the dealer and there was a Lincoln parked out front. Aha, the owner. I knocked on the door. He found the right cable and I was off.

As I approached Santa Barbara I could go inland on a more direct route through the mountains or stay by the coast. I chose the mountain road, a gorgeous rocky desert. A con-dor flew right over my head like an airplane (9 foot wing-span). Soon after, they were declared extinct in the wild. Since then they have been reintroduced and are doing well.

Being under 25 years of age, my brain wasn't fully de-veloped, so I sold the Honda and bought a Ducati 250. It was hot-rodded up with a 30mm carburetor and no idle. I got it back to Oakland and was so thankful the landlord had a steep driveway so I could start it. It would go like a bat out of hell, but I'm not sure I've made a worse deci-sion.

Soon I wised up and sold the Ducati and bought a bicy-cle. That Ducati was good for brain development. I could get anywhere in Oakland faster than a car on that bike.

Once, in heavy traffic and going about 30 miles per hour, I had the choice of getting squeezed between a city bus or hoping there was no car hid-den where he pulled out in front of me. It turned out I chose the back of a car and never even touched the ground as I flew over it. I was a mess as I hobbled home carrying my badly bent bike.

Now Dawn and I go on a bike ride every day. If we lived in town the only good thing would be riding a bike to get around. It's easy on the knees.

I've had people ask me about the election so I wrote this.

Any responses to The Alternative may be sent as a letter to the editor or to Fritz’s email address 4selfgovernment@gmail.com. His blog, www.alternativebyfritz.com, is now being updated regularly. It's diverse, like the universities claim to be.