Linda and I have been working on the garage for the past month and today, we finally got the last piece of heavy equipment out of it so we can paint the walls & ceiling and epoxy the floor. That last piece was Suzi, my 1981 Suzuki GS1000G motorcycle. Here's a picture of her.



The old girl is a bit worn around the edges -- she's been sitting in that garage ever since we moved down here in 1989. Before Linda and I started dating, Suzi and I had some fun trips including a 2-week excursion from Connecticut to the Grand Canyon and back in 1983. She was the perfect balance of canyon cruiser and highway hauler. I had her outfitted with a Vetter fairing and Samsonite bags and with them and a tank bag, I could pack for 2 weeks with only one laundry stop necessary. In her prime, Suzi made 90 hp out of those 1000 CCs at 8,500 and she had a redline of 10,000 rpm. She sports an inline 4-cylinder engine, double overhead cams and a shaft drive.

When Linda and I got together, she told me how much she hated me riding the bike and so I decided that she was far more important to me than Suzi. The last time she was officially on the road was in 1984. She has 12,800 miles on her.

Linda keeps asking if I intend to put her back in the garage after it's all painted. I'm being evasive. But deep down, I think it's time I got Suzi into a home that will do the restoration work she deserves. I'll just have to get by with the memories. And there are some very sweet ones.

Jim

Touching story. Suzi looks like she has returned to seduce you one more time.

But before you put her to pasture, could do a Moxie shoot with her?

Moxie's afraid of her! I introduced them in the front yard yesterday and Moxie said "you know, dad, mom's right. Motorcycles are dangerous toys." Moxie is more into giant, oversized toys than motorized things.

Jim

Hey Jim,

Some part of me really wants you to clean her up and get her on the highway. Having said that, I get where Linda is coming from. Bikes are d-a-n-g-e-r-o-u-s....and if you know how hard it is to go between keyboards on the iPad, you will appreciate that. How long will it take to rehab the bike before it is ready to go to a new one?

James

James,
I rode motorcycles for over 15 years and traveled a lot of roads, some incredibly scenic and some in New York City. And I lived! Having said that, I'm a bit long in the tooth to be riding the type of bike I prefer and I don't really like traveling without Linda who simply would not ride with me. So, the bike has been sitting in the garage collecting dust while we moved on to dogs as an entertainment medium.

Here in Florida, there is a pretty decent market for restored vintage motorcycles, especially some of the Japanese products from the early 1980's when they led the market. This bike wouldn't take a lot of work for a real mechanic that didn't mind tearing down the engine, transmission and carbs and replacing all the brake lines. It has low mileage and is pretty much all original at this point. I know two shops that buy, restore and sell Suzukis and I've already talked to them about buying it. Now all I need to do is get a copy of the title from the State of Connecticut -- the original came down with us but which box it's in at this point is anybody's guess. We're planning to move on or about Feb. 1 so now is a good time to unload those items that we don't really need to keep in the new home. Suzi will be much happier if she can get back on the road. And Linda will be much happier if I'm not on her when she does .

Jim

I wish I were brave enough to ride, but around here, well - it only takes one idiot and we have plenty.

Jim,
riding is lots of fun on the right roads with a reliable bike and a rider that isn't suicidal. Some of my favorite rides were along beaches at 25 mph just enjoying the views and the smells and the breezes. When I took the bike over Monarch Pass in the Rockies (at almost 12,000 feet) I had to stop every 10 minutes or so just to take pictures of the Aspens that had just turned gold.

On my way home from the Grand Canyon, I had to do 600 miles the last day because I had to be at work the following day. I didn't walk right for more than a month . A bike can be fun but you need to realize that you're invisible. Nobody sees bikes and riders. I always wore an orange day-glow helmet and my leathers were bright yellow. And yet, I still had to dodge stupid people who just never bothered to see me. Riding a bike gives special meaning to the term "drive defensively".

Yet, for all the fun, I don't miss it all that much. I'd rather share those adventures with Linda and the dogs and you can't do that on a motorcycle. So here I am, in my 60's, and instead of carving up some winding mountain roads on my Suzuki, I'm driving around in a Dodge mini-Van with 4 dogs and a wife who still puts up with me. It doesn't get better than that!

Jim

LoL, I've been considering a mini-van too. I must be getting old like you, but sooner :-p

I have always wanted to learn to ride. I'd enjoy touring, not everyday, in the city, driving. CA drivers are by far the worst and heavy traffic. But recently a bunch of us from school got hooked back up on facebook. One friend's wife had just died of ALS and he was beginning to pursue a dream of many travels on his new motorcycles, joined a cycle club, was posting photos of his trips online for us all to enjoy etc. I was very shocked one day to sign on and find out that he was killed when their cycle group was trying to merge onto a highway at a bad intersection. I'm generally not afraid to try anything new but I'm not sure I want to trust my life with the other crazy drivers.

Diana

Diana,
the freedom of riding is lovely but the danger is omnipresent. And, even if you do everything you can to avoid getting hit, one small patch of sand can send you to the highway sliding along on your backside at 70 mph. Just the thought of that make me cringe.

There are people who have been riding for decades and never been injured. There are kids who have been riding for a week and been taken out at a stop light. Sometimes you're lucky and sometimes you're not but being unlucky on a motorcycle can mean loss of limb or loss of life. It's that level of trade-off that make Linda so uncomfortable about me riding and ultimately that made me quit. Don't get the wrong idea: I'm a very good driver and I carved my share of mountain roads with the cycle -- peg-grinding we call it. But the idea that one small mistake could be your last is just too much. So now, we restrict our risk-taking to finding parking places at the closest shopping mall .

Jim