As I cruise around on my bike to events and cruise around the inter-webs on my keyboard I come across interesting motorcycle themed posters/prints. Here are the nine 2016 winners from the 32 motorcycle posters that I “collected”. Hope you like them as much as I did.
If you see some cool motorcycle posters while you are cruising about, send me a link and they might make next years list! Not that the winners get any thing other then a mention here but HEY, that is only a little better then nothing.
Many things you do while riding a motorcycle become second nature after a while. One of the things that takes a while and that can still catch me out occasionally is stopping a motorcycle. I don’t mean the act of braking, I mean the stopping without dropping the bike.
Most of the time it’s easy, you stop and you put a foot down, but this gets much more complicated on hills, gravel or any other uncertain surface. In fact every time I back my motorcycle out of my driveway I worry about dropping it.
If you’ve ridden a motorcycle long enough you know the situations that make this part hard. The motorcycle was moving, and if that momentum isn’t going exactly like you think or expect it can end up falling over on you. I know that some people get through life without ever dropping their motorcycle, but I know…
I was a E-3 stationed at Charleston AFB, South Carolina in 1957. One of the fellows with whom I worked received orders to a remote air force station on the Dew Line in Alaska. His motorcycle wouldn’t go much over 45 mph. Even if it had the capability, it probably would never have made the 2,000 miles +/- to the Dew Line. So he offered me his 1949 Harley Davidson 125cc for $40.
In those days there was no need for helmets, insurance, or an endorsement. Handing over the cash I was good to go.
This machine had been ridden hard. It was run down at the heed, so to speak, and required constant tinkering to keep it running. If there wasn’t one thing wrong there were two. But it provided wind in my face on a part time basis, and for that I was grateful.
I’ve ridden on bikes a few times before Vietnam, while hitchhiking in Turkey, on a day tour to Angkor Wat and with my couchsurfing host in Taiwan. I couldn’t ride to save my life, but read that motorbike was the best way to see the North. It sounded so good on paper, that I was even willing to pay USD100 a day for a guide to drive me around. But I was extremely lucky that R was going the same way as I was, and the day before I left for Vietnam, I found myself a travel buddy. It was R’s first time riding a bike, and for some reason, I decided to put my life in his hands for those two weeks. Winding up and down hair pin turns on steep mountain passes, navigating the crazy traffic to get out of Hanoi and driving past more cows than cars…