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In '79 I finally got another bike. A used one this time, but a good used one. The '78 ES 750E shown here was a good bike, willing to plunk sedately about town or scream down the road - When the tach hit 7 grand, you had to hold on! Handled pretty good, too.

I actually didn't sell this bike until well after I acquired the next one. Sold it to a young fella who promptly went out and hit a left-turning van with it. Totaled the poor bike, and broke his back and some other stuff. Last I heard he was fully recovered. The bike was DRT.

My Dad was always totally against motorcycles; he wouldn't even consider me having one when I was young. For a long time after I was grown and owned a bike, I kept it a secret from him. My mother was afraid he'd fly into a rage and have another heart attack. After a time, I revealed the truth; he took it fairly well, but I had to suffer through constant lectures and cautions about riding.

This picture was taken in the summer of 81, the year before Dad died. Mom asked us to go pick some little thing up from the grocery store, and I suggested we go on the bike. To my great surprise, Dad agreed! We rode about 10 miles altogether; to my knowledge, this is the only time he was ever on a bike in his life. He even allowed that it was fun!

This is the '82 Suzuki GS850G I bought new in '84. Great running and handling bike. I had it for about three years, but due to family upheavals and adjusting to being a single, custodial parent, it didnít get ridden nearly as much as it should have. It did haul me from North Little Rock to Springfield on one outstanding ride, but that was the only one I took on it that was more than 100 or so miles.

When I remarried, it ended up sitting outside and unprotected for over a year. My WATT convinced me to sell it because it wasn't getting ridden much. Alas, I trusted a fella who wrote me a hot check... never got a dime of the money, and the bike was gone! Should'a just kept it.

Click here to go to the page featuring my next two bikes:


Who says you can't go