In the late 70’s, as I was finishing highschool, I kept an old harley sportster for a friend. It stayed on it’s side in a swampy spot full of high weeds in my backyard, because I’d be in heavy shit if the old man found out i had a cycle. I rode it once in a while, usually late at night after dad had gone to work and mom was asleep, because a: I didn’t have a license, B: neither did the cycle, and c: I had no idea what i was doing. None. At all. In fact, the only times I was able to muster the guts to try, I was pretty liquored up and oftener than not, laid it down trying to turn. Since that time I have never even considered owning a motorcycle, and the near-misses I got into with the Harley (which I later discovered had been stolen in the first place) convinced me that I had neither the skills nor the inclination

I have thought how nice looking some of the old Moto-Guzzi bikes were, and thought one of them would be nice to own, and I also really liked the looks of the elder Triumphs. Nice enough, I thought, that I’d buy one and let it sit, because I wasn’t going to learn to ride on a damned classic bike, if I could help it. So, that pretty much left those out of the question.

So a couple of weeks ago, I am out wandering around, looking at garage sales ( I love a garage sale for the glimpse into the lives of the people selling. ) Anyway, I stop in at a garage where I see a dozen carboys for sale, and because I’m trying to get back to making wines, I stop and look. The prerequisite red/white/blue flags are tied to the peak of the garage and the handlebars of a motorcycle with a sign “$2500” on the headlight.

The carboys turn out to be plastic, and I’m looking for glass, so i’m heading back to the car, and I take another glance at the motorcycle.
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