A brief history of New Member introduction or MCs I have known and loved or not
I started riding in 1970. Reassmbled a 1965 Honda 305 basket case under the guidence of my 2 biker roomates in Philadephia when I was fifteen.

It was missing a lot of parts such as head/tail lights, seat, handlebars, body parts etc. but bicycle bars and seat bolted right up.  it was loud as hell, street illegal, low slung. about 200 lbs wet without all those unnecessary parts. 
  Plenty fast for a scrawny teenager. I didn't ride outside the neighborhood and the local cops let me slide because I wasn't participating in any of the rampant maliscious crimes that plagued West Philly in those days, I had a job  and  wasn't even a junkie.

Not having plates or a drivers  license was no big deal and the bike wasn't even hot, I was a respectable stand up citizen and a teenage roll model in their book. 

I busted knuckles at my $3.50/hr grease monkey job and put away 750 dollars when I hit sixteen. Got a drivers license good for cars or MCs. My boss at work was the coolest 80 year old dude I ever met and he signed the title for the 1970 CL 350 honda I got barely used for $650.

I rode that thing to death for about three years on and off road. thing was indestructable and once I figured out a fix for the rubber swing arm bearing that tried repeatedly to kill me at 65mph with a viscous speedwobble, it was almost safe.

 Movin up in the world, I relocated  down hiway 30 out by Amish country to work in Heavy industry. Bought a used Norton Commando for $1000. It was the combat model  that had a lot of problems and almost put them out of business. Either 70 or 71, cant remember. However mine held up fine.

I did replace the  domed pistons with the original flat tops to stay on the safe side. Hell, it was still 11 to 1 and you had to hone your kick start skills to fire it up. Fastest factory made four stroke on the planet in its day , so I have heard.

 I had been going to night school and got a high school diploma , moved to western PA which was a long way, but much closer than viet Nam. That Norton was still running when I graduated, although useless in the winter.

Somehow I ended up shipping out to sea as a merchant marine ,had nowhere to store the  Norton so i sold it for $1500.

That was fun for about two years. Then mysteriously woke up in San Francisco around 1980, which was too darn, cold so I moved to Oakland which is about eight miles away but 30 degrees warmer. I ended up doing seismic work and ran three crews as branch manager. Big bucks. 
  I rented a house and a huge three car garage up by college avenue. I ran electrical circuits and benchtops and built it into a shop where I spent all free time gorging on motorcyles with my british biker pals

I rebuilt a 1970 bonneville that was set up with a bunch of racing equipment and a 1979 front end with disc brakes. All the racing stuff was bolted on but none of it was tuned in so all it did was overheat. I dialed in the 34 mm mikunis, a daunting but rewarding task.,and modified the advnce down to 10 degrees from twelve, did some exhaust porting and took the baffles out of the tt straight pipes. It was already stripped down to about 350 lbs and I was getting about 45 hp at the wheel. Nothing handles like a Bonnie, perfectly balanced.  Dream bike.

 Drove  to stockton  and bought a cherry  100% stock 1968 sportster which was a work of art but couldn't get out of its own way. Rode it around for awhile then sold it in the bay area for double what I paid and it was still a good deal.  

A Laverda and a BSA650 came and went

A Duck 850, too finicky.
 Acquired an unusual '82 1000 Guzzi which was set up like a cafe racer from the factory. Bizzare considering its bulk, weight,and long wheel base. I am certain this was the only Monster Truck Cafe Racer ever attempted by a manufacturer. It was geared absurdly hi like the police models, so high it could do 55mph in  FIRST GEAR. Don't try it. It pops a frightening wheely when you shift into second.

JUST SOUTH OF RENO   on a long straight road in the desert I put my feet on the back pegs, laid down on the tank and tucked in behind the little cafe fairing. Lets see what this beast can do.
   I kicked up to 5th gear then dogged it at 35mph and gently  began to roll the throttle , no more gears to flip, it was just bare motor , all engine uniterrupted acceleration. 50, 60, 70, 80....around 90 the thumping of the big twin smoothed into a low growl 100, 120 now its a roar like a big v8 engine ...130, the roar is louder and becoming a whine. There is hardly any vibration, its tracking a perfectly straight line with no steering correction, I can't even feel the little bumps from the joints in the road sections anymore. Periperal vision is liquid but Im keeping my eyes straight, 135, its all whine from the engine now, but no clicks or taps, no valve float all is in perfect order, I glance at the tac, 20k from redline and it's still pulling hard,... 140 I have no sensation that I'm riding a motorcycle any more or connected to a road, it feels like I'm floating above it. It was too much for my brain to handle, it was too perfect this can't be real, and that was it. I lost my nerve, chickened out, let it go. I decellorated real easy so as not to make any sudden moves re-entering reality which happened around 90 mph but I let it slow to 60 before pulling my head up into the wind. 
  I still dont know how fast that Guzzi can go but apparently my top speed is just short of 145

Picked up a1975 850 Norton commado Interstate with big 8 gallon fiberglass tank from a college student. He was having the typical kick start and clutch problems and ran out of money taking it to the shop. He wanted $800 bucks which was, and still is, a steal, so I gave him $850. It only had 4000 miles on it.

Then. The 1988 k75. The long convoluted scandalous history of this bike scrambled me even harder than it's two previous owners. To go into it would triple this already bloated Hello it's me.

Short version: An employee of mine acquired it from the original  owner who layed it down at 90mph. cheap. Note it is common for experienced bikers to wreck K-bikes because they don't vibrate. How many bikes do 90 with no vibration? The only tell you have is the speedo, and who watches that? All of the fairing , fiberglass even the coil cover was cleaned off the left side by pavement wipes. But it ran fine.

The haunted Beemer curse moved into my employee friend and he was soon hit by a car on hiway 580 at approx 80 mph and it slammed down on the right hand side of the machine, and tore his foot off.

I went to visit him in San francisco Hospital where he was getting it re-attached, and glad to be alive. He told me "The bike was still running  on the ground, the cops had to turn it off, I can't ride it, I'll let it go for 600, just needs a little work." I got a laff out of that, then it hit me'. and it  went something like this: 

* Me: I'm standing at your bedside in the hospital, and you are telling me that you're giving me your Vincent to riiiiiiiiide?

Sean: (laughing) Except I'm the redhead.

Me: My favorite color scheme.

Sean: Triumphs and Nortons and Beezers won't do. ( laughs coughs, moans, tears) STOP STOP  MY RIBS (mOANS)
{I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT THE RIBS}
Me: Sorry,man
Sean: (Hammering the pain button on the IV)   It was worth it.

 He was right. I went to see the Beemer . The big external radiator hose on the right was torn. I invested 12 dollars for a new one and put tap water in  the radiator and flushed a bit. Hit the starter and it cranked right up. I had handlebars foot pegs, mirrors and essentials hanging around in the shop. I ended up with a running BMW k-bike with less than  3000 miles on it for 612 dollars and 10 hours of work. And without the stoopid hi rise american bars. It looked hideous but over time, following the rat bike motif I was given, a lot of flat back spray paint, keeping it naked and see-through. 

My girlfriend was a talented seamstress with one of those 5hp machines and fit the smashed up gas tank with a black leather cover. I had some expanded metal from a bar b que grill.  I made a pattern and cut it into a fairing  with a torch and banged it into shape with a 5lb sledge and some pry bars. Flat black spray paint. Attached it around the instrument cluster with ubolts on the old brackets. Mounted the turnsignals and the windshield.  Skull and crossbone decal on the front fender. Only the BMW riders knew what it was and a few snoots snorted but inevitably shot a picture of it. 

Most of Bay area riders thought it was something from the 40s  50's. I even had an old timer lie about having one when he was young.

* Vincent Black Lightning 1952 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0kJdrfzjAg

It took awhile to get to my first k-bike if you made it this far, thnk you for reading:  A brief history of New Member introduction or MCs I have known and loved or not.

I'll continue from 1990 forward with more Beemers to come

 Really enjoyed chapter one looking forward to next post. Alot of the members/inmates have a colourful history to say the least. 

hi watercool
here
I've enjoyed your introduction very much  
can't wait for 2.0

Welcome Watercool

Hello and welcome. I've Had a few of those bikes also. 350 Honda Had 3 or 4 of those! They were disposable bikes. 

Welcome from Ireland. I also had 1969 Bonneville and a few 850 Commandos, before I moved to K's starting with a K100RS.

* Vincent (I saw Richard Thompson on his last visit to Dubin )

part2

The Loma Prieta 6.9 Earthquake created a runaway demand for seismic retrofitting in the Bay area among the houses still standing. Which was most of them. We were the only company in CA that specialized solely in that area of engineering and installation. We ended up with a backlog of hundreds of jobs with a 6 month waiting list. Which meant t a few years of burn-out 50-60 hour weeks. Aggrevated by the fact that  I had personally  trained workers for efficiency and a foreman with manger skill s. My crews were completing jobs 4 times faster than the alloted man hours  on the contract. But they got no raises and were already underpaid. My bosses had no interest in sharing the profits these guys generated. Worst capitalists ever. My reward was high turnover and slots we could only fill with parolees, crackheads and binge alcholics at those wages, 12 bucks an hour in the Bay Area. WTF!!!. They paid me really well so I whored on and kept sending in profit sharing proposals that would have increased revenue  and made eveybody fat and happy all of which were rejected.So my guys hated me for creating false hopes. And the bosses hated me for not  accepting their zero sum approach to wage distribution. 

it was an endless clash of genX trailer park boys vs the Phillistine Greed Grabbers
Three more years, two thousand adderalls, and three thousand angry hangovers later  we caught up with all the work in the backlog just in time to get laid off together

I was a mess, TOTAL burn out on all circuits. Just marginally functional and deeply embittered. I kicked around doing remodels and bar hopping, and joy rides having a blast but rapidly declining. The K75 curse hit me when I was riding out to Grass Valley for the yearly mushroom gobbling music festival put on by berkely motorcylists. Riding two up on the road warrior machine I saw the cop car coming the other way while switching highways on the banked crossover doing about 80mph. I figured he didn't get radar on me it was such a brief time when we crossed. So i opened it back up after the switch. k75 s cruise pretty comfortable around 100-110mph on flat road and we were running late.

about 15 minutes later I started running out of gas and I pulled into a fire station to bum some gas in a town that didn't even have a stop light. The fire guys were awesome and as I'm filling up with a gas can the cop, who had apparently been chasing me for thirty miles comes roaring up spraying everybody with gravel and jumps out with his hand on his gun. I was very cooperative and apologetic and eventually convinced him I was not running from him, I always ride like that, and that  I was just crazy, not dangerous.

as mentioned I was in decline, not taking care of business and a little strung out
My liscence was expired about one week, the registration was overdue, as was the inspection sticker', no insurance, expired plates, etc etc.

He cut me a break. I;m giving you a ticket for 99mph in a 40 mph zone because if it's over a hundred I have to take you in. It was labor day weekend and he had to make his ticket quota.  With all the above violations it was a four digit ticket. Which I didn't pay. Two years later it caught up with me and they confiscated the Kbike which was illegally parked on the sidewalk. 
I road that K-bike for 2.5 years on a $750.00 initial investment , then a  fuel pump, after  that was a literal free ride. 
no renewals, no inspections registration,parking tickets insurance. nuthin

It was time to leave California anyway. It was the beginning of the big real estate boom and i couldn't afford to ;live there in my current state of crazy. Rent was almost as high as a traffic ticket.

My dad had passed away and mom was living alone  in a big house in houston. We always got along despite my very early departure from the family and when she found out my girlfriend was expecting she was in Grandma heaven. So I crated up the triumph and the Norton and freighted them to Texas, and we landed in Houston with only the wind benieth the shirts on our backs.

Houston is not motorcycle friendly. All interstate highways, no hills, no curves only intersections,and large gas guzzling Road ships that cruise around 90mph and have little motorcycle decals lined up on the side of the cockpit for every unsuspecting biker they have splattered on the freeway. Those that manage to survive the dogfights often die in high speed crashes when they fall asleep on endless straight, flat  freeways that strech unswerving into the horizon . It is so hot you can't wear leather if you get one of those 5 minute traffic lights you will pass out.

.
Not long after our first was born I cut down on riding. British bikes are built to lean, no fun outside the twisties. This is Harley Cruiser territory.  Having to wind out a Triumph to 90mph to keep from getting rear ended on 8 lane freeways is scary.If riding a motorcycle starts overheating your mortal coil, you should stop doing  it. You can't be afraid to die. If you are afraid to die you are going to hit the brakes instead of the throttle to escape a bad driver, or straighten up when you should have leaned harder. Fright elicits panic behavior which ia a euphemism for impending doom

If you end up in the fatherhood role, the worst epic you can fail as a parent is to die or worster one of those high speed collisions with a senior citizen driving a fleetood cadillac looking  through the steering wheel who  pile drives a front bumper under your rear wheel and flips you way up in the air so you end up bouncing down the road  at sixty mph instead of sliding, then still doesnt see you  and runs you over then  drags you under the car all the way to the next red light. Kids should not have to learn how to strip drain tubes coming out of your abdomen and empty colostomy bags at ten years old. You're not much of a role model when your shitfaced on oxy and trying to talk out of one side of your face about stuff you cant even do. Like walk

Daddys gotta slow down a little, let off the throttle and chill. Avoid barfights in roadhouses where everybody carries guns, don't argue with officer billy club about knowing your rights, run away from hammered bar room   bottle blondes who are hanging all over you to piss off their boyfriend and you should probably avoid Houston Freeways on two wheels.

1995 I drained the gas tanks, pushed the  bikes into the garage and tucked them under covers.

26 years later. Kids are old enough. Not afraid to die anymore.
My wife  temporarily moved out to Northern CA where her father was dying. He passed away leaving a 30 acre property with a nice house, and an 8000 ft warehouse where he bought and sold heavy machinery, repaired tractors, back hoes, a road grader, a few catapillers a million hand tools and machine tools, lathes ,log splitters, air compressors, 50ft triplie wheel flatbed trailers, an original moon walker   with   guest host compiler  to calculate  machine quantumm by their nature,  then divide the inherited probabilty amongst the three siblings just prior to centrifuging the  pods for  guzzling the puzzling colloidal entanglement  before it carmelizes on the sides of the capital gains dredge buckets where the state bureaucracy collects  it to finance  prison expansions in order to handle the liberating overflow of teenage girls convicted of attempted abortions or trafficing in birth control pills.

Covid was just getting popular so it was a perfect time to initiate a massive effort of junk removal from the garage which was stacked to the rafters with obsolete or broken junk, moldy baby clothes, 30 year old paperworketc etc. It took amonth then I installed a bunch of industrial grade steel shelves that were being salvaged by my workplace, 10 four foot LED shop lights that walmart sells for 20 bucks, a pretty good compressor with two tanks and built motorcycle maintenance shop #2. I moved the norton commado into storage so it wouldn,t get trashed during construction and it got ripped off. That hurt, it only had 90000 miles on it and was completely stock with all original parts expt airbox and burnt out starter and had interstate tank and seat and roadster tank and seat. It was worth 6 grand
 
So I went to work on the triumph. I made the mistake of trying to get it runnig quick. piece meal. Ive owned that bike since 1981. have redone the entire top end ground and seated the valves,replaced the sealsand lifters an all gaskets but also split the bottom end open when it threw a rod, honed the jugs up a size. EVERYTHING. I've had the gears out and upgraded the clutch mechaism.  Pulled off the  harness and wired it from scratch. I could have easliy done it in two months If I rebuilt the whole thing like a restoration. 

But I just fixed stuff as i went.   I would get it runiing great and hauling ass then elctricl problems, fiw that then clutch went out fix that then wheel bearings, then the swing arm froze up....then sumping ,  It really was messed up from sitting so long.  i'm working full time all through covid and still working on the triumph 5 months in.....

In the past i have put plenty of long hours wrenching a bike without losing patience because I had one or two other bikes to ride.  I had 7 grand of bonus monet from the govt and job  to bribe me into staying at work . Supermarket mechanis. Essential worker sucker. No vaccines out and i was a royal flsh in a covid hand.over sixty, diabetic, hypertension, a drinking smoker, hepC survivor with a dicey diet who can,t  keep his hands out of his face.Up all night wrenching .  AND I was getting radiated every dar for three months becauuse I had the virulent version  of prostate cancer. 

The way out of this darkening depression was simple and the same  as it ever was all my life. All I needed was A MOTORCYLE. duhhhhhhh But not just any motorcycle I needed another k75., nothing else would do 

I was so outside of the biker loop for so long I thought they were still making them. my rabid research cured that misonception early, but the next problem was that BMW didn't market the Kbike in texas. thirty years in this state I had never seen even one. Every BMW shop in town had old classic boxers the sigle cylinder BMRS russian made boxers with sidecars but no kBikes. All of the buy selll motorcycle websites didn't have a kbike within 500 miles.  But I didn't give up and finally located one in Dallas. A K75s, the coolest looking kbike ever made iMHOand its a 1990 with the upgraded computer modo whatever. 18,000 miles on it. Normally i would avoid a 30 year ole bike with mileage,that low 
+ Must have been up on blocks for years, but I rented a van and drove to Dallas to check it out. It had no rubber rot anywhere , all the seals were tight, no corrosion in the gas tank. It started right up no smoke. I immediately picked up the vibe that the  wealthy wife of the bike owner was demanding he dump the bikes but was fine with the race car he drove on the track in Austin parked out back which was pretty bad ass. He also had a 2004 r1150r for sale so when the wife walked by I asked what he wanted for the big boxer. We settled for 6000 for the pair which wasn't bad considering the excellent  condition and all of the k75 luggage and the custom exhaust on the 1150 minus the catalytic converter workaround and a top notch all black and silver professional paint job that covered up the psychedelic clown car eyesore factory paint job that was splattered on this particular oilhead Rokstar model when BMW made the mistake of listening to somebody in the marketting department who had mistakenly grabbed a wrist bone instead of the artery when taking the pulse of the emerging young professional class that would be drawn to the BMW brand taking a bold move  including all of the colors in the spectrum instead of the old fashion drab one or two color scheme. So I came home with twoBMRs. Then I got laid off two weeks later. whew, got them just in time. I was 66 syears old and was retring in 6 momnths and did not mind kicking back and making a fortune on social security a bit earlier.

There was also a somewhat romantic motivation for buying the two bikes, I knew I retiring and would be spending most of my time biking into colorado tennessee appalachia and central PA or back to CA on hiway one or the sierra nevda passes. My wife and I had ridden two up frequently back in CA, she was the passenger when I  broke the  land speed world record traffic ticket. But I'm not fond of two up because of the safety courtesy that veteran riders  politely extend to   passengers. Ben franklin noted that a free biker who would give up any measure of cheating death by drowning it in adrenaline for the comfort of safety will end up with neither. Tis better to extend the self determination gained by mastering the art of taming the beast with throttle and lean empowering their own lust for balance and horsepower as an equal. She is a natural for the task as evidenced by her lead foot in automobiles and remarkable sexy 34" legs. that's four inches longer than my measly little boy legs. With that geometric advantage she will never suffer the embarrasment of randomly falling over at 3mph that so many of us have suffered. It was a good move and I dont mind giving her the Kbike to ride on trips that we can share. I can put up with the top heavy boxer and world war one era transmission. The absurd amount of torque at that thing generates at any speed is a blast.

And  I was right  about the mother of my children. she was a natural and I have taught  three women  how to ride and what to buy in my history of romances that smell like gasoline.... And they all still ride.  nearby our house is an outlaw 1 mile stretch of road that could not adhere to the ccounty straight lines only ordinance because it is adjacent to spring creek . There are a series of close turns then a medium left swerve followed by a long luxurious 1/2 mile sweeper that is a consistent streched out arc where you can pour on the gas in top gear. It is an unused shortcut with almost no traffic. Our personal training track, practiced there about a month tthen ventued a short run up the freeway then off onto a  surface road with  light traffic. I noticed that she had self taught getting into neutral approaching stop lights to avoid holding in the clutch and getting her feet om the pegs as soon as she was rolling off a dead stop. 

Unfortunately she made a bad decision returning to our neighborhood after sundown and I was too far behind to head her off. She turned on to our  practice road. Which has no lighting at all and is the local hangout for deer families to congregate nightly. A rather strange event involving a cujo scale giant dog that decided to sit in the middle of the oncoming lane. Deer watching  maybe or perhaps to warn joy riders of the sharp left turn just ahead. Wen was coming in hot when when she was distracted by the enormous canine road sitter and briefly took her eyees off the road just long enough to miss the turn. I was briefly distracted right behind her and when I looked back to the road I saw the sparks fly indicating the the bike was being ridden sideways into the adjacent ditch. I pulled over and struggled with the kickstand that was tucked all the way in and about 12 inches forward of any previous stand I had kicked. Looking down for it was futile in the pitch black darkness and screaming at it didnt work either. After finally fumbling it correctly I   saw that Wen had untangled herself from the bike which was still in gear defiantly running at a perfect 1k smooth idle. In classic biker form Wen remarked, "Well I'm glad I got THAT out of the way early," while wiping blood off the road rash on her wrist. Dragging it out of the ditch was a bitch but we got it standing on the street.The clutch cable had snapped so we push started it and I road it home speed shifting, and returned in the car for her to drive. she got road rash on wirsts elbos and knees, but thankfully no bone showing. The top left fairing was history, turn signal wiped off, clutch lever mangled.  I almost had a heart attck when i found a fairing on eBay with the same red paint no scratches for fifty bucks. I guess we were due for a miracle. 

Both Wen and the kBike took the month off. The clutch cable took three weeks to show up from Germany and cost more than the fairing. But it all fit back together and the skin grew over the wounds.

We got some more practice in but then the kbike started acting up and other problems jumped up while I fixing the first.  Then it was 100 degrees every day for a month and a half which prohibits working in the shop......  as of now..... pinhole  leak in radiator. Probable sensor fail because full radiator boils over without warning light and fan is okay. Fuel bar is corroded badly inside, needs replace. installing E 14 injectors Little nervous first time.
While sharpening the horns of my dillema I get a horrific pain in my side just under my ribcage, It continues to get worse. Appendisitus perhaps. my son takes me to emergency room. they run some tests and do a petscan and check me in to the hospital. Doctor comes by in the morning and informs me that it's cancer. I get referred to an oncologist and they do some biopsy. 

me: details please. 

Dr. its a bile duct tumor which is surrounded by your liver. It cannot be surgically removed without cutting into the liver which would kill you. There are three more additional tumors in the neighborhood on lymph nodes i.e stage 4. 
me: whats the prognosis if we do nothing ?
Dr: you could live two or three months

Me:  Yikes, ok  whats the prognosis with treatment?
Dr.with regular chemo treatments augmented with immunotherapy infusions  you could live another year or two maybe longer. One in 10 patients make it to five years. 

Me: How many chemo treatments do we require ?

Dr. Chemo treatments for as long as you live. Its not curable, they keep you alive for awhile then stop working. Its unpredicatable.
Me: as I understand it the pain episode got me in pretty early and the tumor hasn't choked off the byle duct yet and probably wont as long as the chemo is effective. did that buy me some time? 
Dr. Its a good sign. but unpredictable no guarentees.
Me: okay, I'm going to get three years. . Three years solid. I could do that standing on my head. For all the crap I've pulled I should get at least four

Dr. could be a cure by then, medicine is moving fast these days.

Me; moving fast is one of my strong points. The faster you go the rounder you get, wherever you go, there you are. you gotta move fast to keep up with me, doc.  

Dr: OK I'll keep that in mind. 
The only thing bad about this is pressure to get this Kbike going without f-ing it up so we are out riding and not busting knuckles in the shop
I apologize for dropping a death bomb on you just when things were moving right along, but I'm 67 years old and the miracle is my making it this far. There is an encylopedia of close calls and bad moves that I am leaving out of this rambling memoir. Take my word for it. I really don't deserve the impossible luck Ive stumbled over when I should have been slapped and booted off this mortal coil for crimes against calamity before I was a threat to common sensibilities.

I have to stay in Houston for chemo monday #1 and chemoMondya #2 then I get two weeks off to travel 

I seriusly take this as good luck that I have aforeknowledge of my pending experation date give or take a year. Normally I would be wasting my time on facebook setting the world straight one insult at a time or sofa surfing watching the entire series of The Wire again. Since i got the news a few months back we've already road tripped to Trinity Colorado then up to Denver visiting old friends, gobbled mushroom bars at the Phish concert, then repeating that cuisine at the Roger Waters 'This is not a drill' show. caught up with more close friends in Boulder. 
then went back to trinity for an art car parade. Two weeks later we drove to Panamam City Florida where my sister rented a classy suite overlooking the beach and left a day before half of the state was flattened and flooded by hurricane. tThen dropped into Baton rouge to visit our favorite young folks and their new baby and old toddler for the first time. lots of love there. 

Went to see FLIPPER last week

I have a tendency to just goof off alot like a lot of people I know but most people just drop dead without warning or get too sick to do anything then die. 

with that in mind my situation seems way better this disease doesn't get in your brain if it starts spreading and gets out of hand so i should be able to open a beer unassisted  to the very end.  

Some less optomistic party poopers bring up the "what are you going to do if the pain is too much for you and blah blah blah. 

My response is 

WHAT DO YOU THINK THAT MOTORCYCLE IS FOR?

Fuck me sideways mate, that is a story and a half. There are those of us who have or do walk close to the Grim Reaper, however i find him to be a patient  chap. Keep the MOTORCYCLE running sweet and ride till you die, Mr GR knows why and agrees. Stay strong share your love to those who care, God Bless. When we are both in K heaven share a beer, brother.

as for part 2:

What a story!
Life surely is stranger than fiction.

Thank you for sharing your life and your thoughts with us so openly.
I certainly do appreciate this very much.

Keep on riding, mate, bcoz one thing is for sure:
As long as we ride, we're alive!

Enjoy whatever there is to be enjoyed

Amazing story/life.

Hunter S. Thompson is alive and well.

Hi,

to this forum!
Thanks a lot for the very interesting articles!

Bernie