This started it all...

[BamaJohn]

What started you?  

[MikeB60]

My best friend had one of these and I was hooked after my first ride.

 

[Sonor]

Wow that's the trail 70.  My good friend had a 50 and I was all manner of jealous.  I only had a mini bike at the time.  But as for what started me, it was in my blood.  My dad was a rider and had a HD (I believe it was a 1943 - 45 ci).  I always get the numbers screwed up so it could have been a 45 - 43 ci.  Not sure.  But he would take me for rides and eventually I had to purchase that mini bike. That lead to a Yamaha 100 (Street but I rode it on abandoned rail tracks). And well, the rest is history of a variety of bikes.

[TEWKS]

I always got the hand-me-downs, (beat to shit  by my older brother) stuff. This was broken when I got it, my father had somebody work on the centrifugal clutch system that it had but it didn’t last long before it stopped working again. 

 

Anyway, I do remember the few short rides it held up for. “The Taste Of Freedom Was Born” That hasn’t left me since! 

Attic Cat Prowler

[Hosstage]

No pictures, but of course a bicycle started it all (no training wheels), then rode a friend's minibike, with the paddle brake, promptly crashed, and the passion was set. Begged, borrowed (maybe not always asking first) anything with a motor after that.

Edit: actually, like BamaJohn, a tricycle did start it all.

[9Mary7]

1970 Honda Mini Trail 50........ My dad was gone all day when he went shopping for it. He got home so late that we had to wait until the next day before he taught us to ride it. Longest night of my young life that was........

[Antimatter]

Honda CT-70.  Saw one being ridden around a campground when I was 6.  Didn't know what it was, but I remember thinking, "I want some of whatever that is."  After that, it was a non-stop string of friend's dirt bikes and scooters, until my Dad bought a a Yamaha Chappy because of the 'Oil Crisis' of 1974.  I rode it far more than he did, and saved up my after-school job money to buy my first motorcycle.

[TEWKS]

2 minutes ago, 9Mary7 said:

. My dad was gone all day when he went shopping for it. 

Sometime in that “moto discovery phase” I use to wait at the end of our long dirt driveway almost daily it seemed, looking to see if my father brought something (motorbike) home with him after work. 

[Joe Frickin' Friday]

The below material is reprinted from a many-years-old thread:

 

 

As a young teenager I had puttered around a bit on my neighbor's kid-sized off-road bike, and also on my brother's off-road bike, and I had been a passenger on my dad's orange-and-white Yamaha RD350 (identical to pic above), but I had never actually piloted a bike on the road. Finally one day in the mid 1980's when I was 16 or 17, my dad sent me to the corner store on that RD350 to pick up some milk.

 

Holy crap, that was cool, even if I did almost dump it. It was late spring in Minnesota, and there was still quite a bit of winter sand left on the road. I had detoured down a cul de sac just to add a couple hundred yards to my one-mile errand, and as I powered out of the cul de sac back on to the straight, the back end stepped out in some of that sand. I recovered, thankfully - with a 3/4 helmet as my only piece of protective riding gear, I would not have fared well if I had crashed.

 

I got to the store, strapped a half-gallon of milk to the rack, and headed home. At a stoplight I prepared to turn right on red, than saw a cop car coming through with the cross traffic. Being a noob, I fumbled with the controls a bit before I got the bike completely stopped, and my bobbling drew the cop's attention. After he passed through the intersection he stopped by the side of the road, and after I made my turn, he stuck out his arm and flagged me to stop next to him. This was my first personal interaction ever with the police, and right from the start it was unfolding like some kind of sick nightmare.

 

"Where's your eye protection?" he asked me. I wasn't kidding when I said the helmet was my only piece of riding gear. My dad wears prescription glasses, so eye protection never occurred to him when he sent me out on my errand. I couldn't come up with an answer, and after an extended period of silence during which I nearly wet my pants, he told me to pull to the curb.

 

Soon after that he discovered I had no motorcycle endorsement on my license. I told him I had my father's permission to be on the bike, as I didn't want him to think I was an unruly kid who had simply swiped the bike to head out and raise some hell. Unmoved, the officer asked, "does he always give you permission to break the law?"

 

The cop placed me in the back of his squad car while he radioed the police station to call my dad and have him drive out and get the bike, because he wasn't going to let me ride it home. After a nauseating and interminable ten-minute wait, my dad arrived, and when he learned that I was in fact being cited for no endorsement and no eye protection (grand total, $99) he proceeded to give the cop a very hard time. He offered that if I had been out hooning it up, he would have helped the cop write the tickets, but as it was, he wondered what the cop hoped to accomplish by giving me these tickets. Cop was unmoved, and when my dad expressed disappointment in the cop's judgment, he even got a bit defensive.

 

In the end, Dad took the bike home (with the milk still strapped to the rack!) and I took his car home, with two tickets in my wallet. Dad felt really bad about sending me out without eye protection, in part because that was what had gotten me pulled over. He ended up paying my fines for me, and I didn't pilot a bike again until a year or so later when I got my learner's permit. By that time he had sold the RD350. I still miss the way that bike sounds. It was a two-stroke engine, with an odd ping-pong sound when it idled. He had owned it since I was just a few years old, and my first motorcycle rides ever were with me as a passenger sitting in front of him on that bike.

 

[Twisties]

When Sharon (Bullett) brought her bike up from TX and we took the MSF course together because she was returning to riding and wanted me to learn.

 

[Skywagon]

This

[AZgman]

This, stolen from my older brother while he was in the process of being drafted in 1966.

[roadscholar]

7 hours ago, BamaJohn said:

What started you?  

 

You wanna race that thing big guy..

 

[BamaJohn]

7 minutes ago, roadscholar said:

 

You wanna race that thing big guy..

 

As I recall, they had to strap blocks of wood to the pedals so I could reach them.....loved it!

[roadscholar]

17 minutes ago, BamaJohn said:

As I recall, they had to strap blocks of wood to the pedals so I could reach them.....loved it!

 

Rode mine off the end of the front porch wide open. Still have the scar : )

[TEWKS]

1 hour ago, AZgman said:

This, stolen from my older brother while he was in the process of being drafted in 1966.

Hope he made it back safely to kick your butt!  Kidding about the butt kicking part. 

[TEWKS]

3 minutes ago, roadscholar said:

 

Rode mine off the end of the front porch wide open. Still have the scar : )

First of many I bet! 

[roadscholar]

5 minutes ago, TEWKS said:

First of many I bet! 

 

Correct, the bad thing was they kept getting faster..

[realshelby]

I grew up in the "Trail 70" and CT 90 days! 

 

I went into the bike shop couple weeks back ( Suzuki clutch baskets and parts for my business ) and saw the new Super Cub. If I could dream up an excuse for one I would buy it. It REALLY brought back memories too!

[randy]

No pictures, but my Mom's brothers rode Harley's to visit Mom. They were beautiful bikes.  My Dad and Mom forbid me to ride on them. But my Uncle Tom took me for a short ride.  15 years later I was moved out and on my own, and bought my first bike a Honda 750K.  Been on bikes every since.

[Red]

[wbw6cos]

My Mom got me hooked when I was 12, or so,  by buying a Honda CM185.  Years later when I was in the Navy, I got my first bike which was a Suzuki GS 550 (used) for a brief time and eventually settled on a brand new '85 Kawasaki 700 LTD.  Incendently, when I would visit my Mom while on leave, she would take me for a ride on her CB 650 Custom; yeah, as an adult.  Go Mom!.  She never let her motorcycle endorsement lapse as she always loved to show it to people.  Thanks to her!!

[ltljohn]

13 hours ago, MikeB60 said:

My best friend had one of these and I was hooked after my first ride.

 

Me too.  My first bike mine was a green 4 speed

[Paul De]

No pics of it with me on it, being the last of 5 kids you don't get your picture taken as much, but this started it all for me

 

But the motorcycle bug hit me with the next two motorcycles.

 

This isn't the actual bike, but is the same OEM purple metalflake paint.  165cc HD hummer, three speed started it all.  I was 12 and enthralled with riding it at every chance.  It was a family bike and I had to compete for time on it with my two brothers and father.

 

The one that set the hook for life was this one. It was still a family bike, but by then oldest brother had his own and father showed up one day with a 1969 Norton 750 Commando, so getting time on the Bultaco was a lot easier.

 

 

 

[Hosstage]

I'm jealous of you guys that grew up with motorcycles in the family. At least my mother and father understood the importance of a good bicycle.

Mom did say I had to move out before I could own a motorcycle, though.

[Jake]

[Paul De]

On 8/8/2020 at 12:24 PM, Hosstage said:

I'm jealous of you guys that grew up with motorcycles in the family. At least my mother and father understood the importance of a good bicycle.

Mom did say I had to move out before I could own a motorcycle, though.

 

The funny thing was that my next older brother was a hellion and blew the transmission out of the well used second "errand" car, and then flipped the replacement on its side in a snowy field.  The third replacement errand car was a nice one and Mom's alone. Next older brother ruined it for me as the day I began driver's ed, my father took me outside and literally pointed to their cars and said I would never be driving them....WTF, I hadn't done anything, but Dad's edicts were typically nonnegotiable!  So, when I passed my driving test to get my license, I immediately went in and took the exam to get the learners permit for motorcycles.  Mom wasn't happy, but the motorcycle barrier had already been breached by my father, so the family motorcycle was the only option for wheels at that point.  It took a year of not screwing up, but dad relented and I could drive Mom's car (proper justification required). In reality I think it was more likely that was Mom nagging him for that year behind the scene that riding a motorcycle in a good sized city was too dangerous that got my father to relent, but it was too late, I was fully hooked on motorcycles and had already saved most of the cash for my own used motorcycle. I only drove Mom's car in the worst of winter months and my motorcycle from March to December.

[Rougarou]

On 8/9/2020 at 8:26 AM, Jake said:

 

Yep

[Mike]

A Sears minibike with a centrifugal clutch. My brother, who was on active duty in the USAF, bought it for me when he was home on leave.

I rode the bejeezus out of that thing. 

 

[Oldironken]

I think it was 1969, Dad sold heavy construction equipment for an Allis Chalmers dealer and brought this home one day.  It was my gateway drug. It had a chronic problem with too much torque and kept bending the jackshaft and throwing the chain. Eventually i just carried a hammer with me and banged it back straight.  From there i went to my Suzuki 125 Prospector i bought used from a friend.

 

[Sonor]

Wow, you had an AC mini bike equipped with shocks and a light.  Mine had just seat shocks and no light with a Briggs and Straton engine.

[dduelin]

In 1970 where I lived it seemed that every one of my circle of friends had a Briggs & Stratton powered mini bike or small Japanese street bike or scrambler. I wheedled my parents unceasingly but my mom said "Ask your father" and my dad's only reply was "No, they are too dangerous". Thanksgiving that year we were at my uncle's farm and I undoubtably was trying to convince him as well of my unmet need and he said, "Your dad never told you about the Harley 45 he owned back before WWII?" He went on to tell me of the time my dad, two up with my grandfather, crashed the 45 turning a corner near the family farm and came walking back up to the house - the both of them all skinned up with road rash. You see, my dad was to me in 1970 a 32 year Army Air Corp/Air Force veteran, Chief Master Sargent GW Doolin my entire life up to that point, the epitome of pressed uniform, gig line straight and spit shined shoes, heck he even cut the grass wearing Corfam dress shoes in black socks. WTF, who crashed ???  In my adolescent mind dad could never have been "skinned up" from crashing a motorcycle. My uncle said my mouth was agape so long not one but two flies flew in and out of it. Christmas that year I got a silver over candy apple red Honda Minitrail 50. My dad was so excited he couldn't wait for Christmas morning and showed it to me stowed in the trunk of our Chevy Bel Air on the 23rd. "Don't tell your mom, she thinks they are too dangerous" He somehow cleared it with mom in time for Santa to deliver it.

 

The 50 quickly was traded for a Mini Trail 70 then a CL175 Scrambler. A couple of years later my dad bought a Honda CB200T for himself and rode it back and forth to work for several years. The significance of that was lost on me until I began riding again after a 20 year hiatus. I did the math and realized my dad was 61 years old and about 30 years out of the saddle when he climbed back on that little 200.

[Endobob]

 

 Wizard motorbike similar to this one was my first ride on a motorized bike when I was 13 or 14 years old. It was a neighbor's of mine and he let me ride it around our neighborhood a few times.   I was convinced I would someday be riding motorcycles!

 

In my first year of college I bought a Mustang motorcycle from a fraternity brother for $35 dollars.  First decision I made on my own after my dad advised against it.   Made a few short runs on it over a month or two and then the clutch plate bolts came loose and blew apart.   I packed up all the pieces and took it home where my dad completely rebuild the bike.  My dad ended up riding in around locally more than I did.