Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1960's

Cycle News 1967 11 23

Cycle News is a weekly magazine that covers all aspects of motorcycling including Supercross, Motocross and MotoGP as well as new motorcycles

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r FICTION: WillY's Met_eycle Had a Mind of Irs o. - But tbe Guys who Stole It Didn't Know That Part II TERRY FELT a touch of envy, remembering his bachelor nights. Now he was a married man with responsibilities and a Volkswagen. And a Gold Star in the basement that he intended to road race someday, but somehow could ne ver get arounli to it. Not that he envied Will's position touring around the country. He had his wOLk in the association, and he sawall the races. Still••• "Oooooh!" Becky squealed, calling his mind back to her and the music. A shining trumpet (Becky's favorite instrument) had cut in. romping over the ideas blown by the saxophone. The trumpet took the notes farther, faster, around a tough- ~r course, then blew the main theme simply, precisely, in five short blasts that !iiushed everything the sax had tried to say, and took off on a new track - fantastic f!l,uries of notes that grew out of the tune like leaves filling the branches of a bare tree. That was the end of the set. Willy returned just as the musicians were leaving the bandstand. • That guy sure plays a mean trumpet!" Terry exclaimed, reaching for his beer•• Hey. what's the matter?" he said, observing Will's dejected face. ·You look like you lost your best friend." "Well, now that you mention it, I just did." "Girl friend put you down?" Becky grinned. "Not only that, my hike went' AWOL." Terry was incredulous. "No kid- ding?~tolen?" ·YUP." ·Is it insured?" Becky asked. "As the late Gary Cooper would say, nope." Terry jumped to his feet. ·Well come on! Maybe we can catch the bastard!" • Be cool. I alreadY reported it. There's nothing we can do right now.lt will come back when it wants to. But I sure wonder what kind of nut dug it enough to steal it." • Wasn't it locked?" • You can't lock a motorcycle. If anyone wants it badly enough they'll take it. Besides, I couldn't keep it that way any more than a man can keep his wife by locking her up. It's difficult to explain.•. but it's like that motorcycle is on its own. As long as I treat it ri ght it stays witli me. But if I treat.it badly, no amount of locks and chains will make it mine." "You sound like you're talking about a woman instead of a motorcycle.· Becky said. • Well, it's something like that, I guess. I think Terry understands, doTl't you?" "I think so," Terry said thoughtfully. ·Welll think somebodY just needed a part or something and it'll probably turn up with some pieces missing." said Becky with her woman's logic.• • If they did,· laughed Willy, • They're going to be disappointed. There isn't a part on that bike that's not broken, worn out or bent." • SOunds like you've been treating it pretty good." said Becky ironically. ·I've been using it," Willy replied. leaving her to make the anal- THE MOTORCYCLE THIEF~ by Charles Clayton llinsllaUoos by Jon DahlsllOm ogy. ·It'll come back, I'm pretty sure. Whoever took it, unless he's a very good rider, will probably end up with a broken arm. Now let's forget it. Would you like another beer?" ARNIE'S heart was still thumping wildly when be arrived with the motorcycle at Pete's garage. This was really a good score, he could tell. It ran so smoothly and handled like it was driving itsel: _ as if he wasn't even on it. He'd made a clean getaway. At the garage door the engine stalled and he got off and fumbl ed with his toe for the sidestand, but the machine was leaning heavily on his skinny arms and fell over with a great clatter. Arnie quickly opened the garage and with a fearful burst of adrenalin dragged the cycle inside. He was scared and guilty but triumpbant as he slipped out the door and scuttled down the ashcan streets, unable to breathe normally until he was locked safely in his room. Later the same morning Arnie returned to Pete's and shook his sleeping friend. MCome on man, wake up." .. Huh? Whuzzit?.. Pete mumbled stickily, opening one eye. "01'1, it's you. Go away man. I got a hangover." "Come on, wake up. I copped a bike last night and we got to switch it around before somebodY spots it... Pete opened another bloodshot eye and focussed on Arnie with interest. ·Yeh? Didja get a good one?" • A wild one. It's the most beautiful bike I ever seen." ·Wait a minute." Pete threw :Us legs over the bedside and sat moaning, holding his head in his tattooed hands. After a minute he pulled on a pair of greasy jeans and scuffed motorcycle boots. Arnie led the way to the garage feeling like the Christmas he expected to find a bicycle under. the tree - only this time he wasn't going to be disappointed. Pete helped Arnie lift the prostrate machine onto its wheels and found the stand. Tbey stepped back in the dusty light to admire it, but once again Arnie was disappointed. "You mean you went to all the trouble of ·s tealing that?" Pete scoffed. • Man. you must of been blinder last night than I was. Ha!" He Kicked the rusty exhaust pipe and poked a greasy finger into the seat•• What kinda cover is on this seat? Why it's n. go along with the thief. Since it had C,) been out of Willy's tender care it had been kicked, cursed, dropped and abused. The slow ride to the strange garage (Arnie being careful DOt to attract attention) had carbo ned its plugs. How could anyone expect it to start? The unfamiliar saddle fastened with plumber's tape chafed its frame. And that muffler· has to go. It was a racing bike, a(ter all. Couldn't any fool see that? A racer has to be treated like a lady. And when that big chain was locked .around its neck (which had already been humiliated with apehangers), the cycle may have feltin some dim, mechanical way that it was being held in bondage- no free-spirited racer could tolerate that. Now here is that strange. rump on my back again. Okay mothah, you want a ride? You'll get a ride! ARNIE almost wore out his strength trying to kick the engine to life, encouraged by occasional putts while Pete leaned back, chuckling. Finally, after much panting and swearing the engine. caught with a roar. It growled a little going into gear, and the clutch ierked on release, almost snatching the grips from Arnie's hands. It didn't feel like the same machine as he opened the throttle and the tires ate up the road. Arnie could barely control it. He decided to head downtown, where the girls were. In the first block the muffler fell off. ·Damn that Pete," cursed .Arnie, wiring it back to the frame. ·He must not of tightened it proper." Then the taillight parted company with the fender, leaving the license bracket askew. ·Well, I didn't waona ride it tonight anyway," Arnie rationalized. Besides, he had other things to worry about: the seat was coming loose and the throttle wouldn't close. Eventually he got the feel of the controls and his confidence returned. Pausing at an intersection, a pretty girl walked by, oblivious of him. }\rnie whistled. She continued walking. ignoring him, her nose in the air•• 1' II make her sit up and take notice," }\rnie thought to himself. And for once he was right. bracket from another machine, new high handlebars, and a legal muffler. • What about a license plate?" Arnie inquired. "Use your old one." ·You think that's a good idea?" MSure• The cops won't know the difference. And the way I changed this baby around, its own mama wouldn't recognize it." Eager ly Arnie bolted the li ce nse plate from the motorcycle he had unwi sely chosen to bUY on to the one he had unwisely stolen. ·I'm gonna take her for a ride,M he decided. "You'd better lay low for a couple of weeks." Pete advised. ·Naw, man. This bike is from out Arnie popped the clutch the instant the light turned green and the bike leaped up, front wheel -pawing the air. Jerked back unwillingly. he opened tbe throttle farther. The cycle traveled a half-block on its rear wheel and crashed down, muffler clattering off with a roar and Arnie dangling from the bars, desperately trying to regain control of the stampeding cycle before it reached the next intersection. There, he saw with a sick feeling of horror, a car was stalled in confusion, the lady at the wheel watching helPlessly as the rocketing motorcycle streaked toward her. c3 (CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK')

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