Widows and children

Snapped Clutch Cables wreck your day!

Springtime Fun Long Ago and why you must be ready for anything...................

No lifeforms were hurt or killed in the making of this memory...........One may have been shortened tho!!!

Widows and children…… Ahem….

If I remember right (which is a 50/50 bet) it was a rogue mild spring day after a particularly harsh New England winter. A winter where the term “snow plow” was interchangeable with “snow tunneling device”. This day you could hear a collective sigh of relief from the wildlife as the temps reached the high fifties. The wildlife’s pitiful sigh was quickly followed by the sound of motorcycles being started by cabin fevered motonutz. Being included in that close nut…er… knit group were myself and a good friend named Jeff. On the phone it sounded like a good idea. After a hot cup of New England Mud (jo) we would quickly install the batteries in our scoots and ride the wild tarmac.

Now mind you in New England during the winters the roads are frequently seeded with sand and salt to keep the 4 wheelers from sliding off the continental shelf and down into the abysmal plain of the Atlantic Ocean. It usually takes until sometime in May when the streets sweepers (Summer Zambonies) arrive from winterizing in Barbados to get this slick stuff off the streets for some good 2 wheel riding. Until then keep the speeds down or the outriggers on.

Jeff would be riding his 77 KZ650 and I would be riding my ape hangered Yammie XS650B King Kong Cruiser. Jeff was a lucky boy. So all went well and we met up near my house since I was more in the country where the best riding is to be had. Soon we were rolling over the country roads watching out for sand puddles and any treacherous looking open maws called pot holes. I have encountered some with expedition parties repelling down the sides to below mantle depths. A friend of mine totaled his Carmen Ghia when his nose dove into one on a back road where a stream had eroded a culvert. Then the next year he totaled another one on a St. Bernard who survived the encounter. The Ghia did not. Today he drives a Suburban. Experience can make you a safer person even if it takes 2 times.

Sorry I got a little side tracked there. Jeff and I were getting a little chilly and decided to stop at this burger joint where the bikers meet in the summer evenings. The place was still closed for the season but the sun would warm us up so we could ride again. When we got there another group of four riders who had the same idea were there and we quickly struck up a conversation. For the life of me I can’t remember what three of them were riding but number four sticks out in my mind like a full mOoOn on a Bass Lake. It was a Crayola Blue Widow Maker (Kawasaki 750, 2 stroke, 3 cylinder rocket sled). I think he was running Bassani Expansion Chambers on it cause I can still hear it wail. Jeff AND I were in awe of this beautiful looking and sounding bezerker machine.

After warming up we all took off all at once and almost immediately this group started showing off with quick passes, seat stands and wheelies. Jeff was no showboat and my 650 was a no showoff bike, in fact if I looked at my bike sideways it would reward me with a head shaking underoo’s fouling tankslapper. So we just sort of rode along like we were riding shotgun for the Circus of Soiled Underwear. After a little while they decided to blast it and dusted us like we were standing still. We lost sight of them and in a little while we took a right onto a nice straight road with some scenic views. When we were coming up to a crossroads we saw them sitting at the stop sign and warming up a little. We pulled up and came the usual “Where ya been? We been waiting for ya!”. Then 3 of them took off across the intersection leaving Crayola Blue with us. Not to be outdone Blue started singing his bike! It sounded like you had grabbed the Tasmanian Devil by the tail and you were swinging him around your head. A car was coming so he had to wait but while he was waiting he was smoking the joint up with the exhaust and I swear I could see the smile through the full face shield. About that time the wailing took on another tone as the clutch cable decided to play the ultimate trick of becoming 2 halves.

The Blue Meanie went ballistic sitting on redline and Mr. Joe Cool launched across the intersection with his legs dangling down and front end reaching for the telephone wires. I don’t think anyone could have seen his smile at that moment cause I bet his eyes covered his mouth as he narrowly missed the car and he tried to get her down and stopped on the other side of the intersection. Even if his mouth was covered I thought I could detect an insane scream other than the Bassani that today haunts my more colorful dreams where I fall off things like mountains or Huge Ferris Wheels! Jeff and I sat there transfixed as this played out going from “cool!….to OMG!..... to I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING!”.

He did get her almost stopped and sort of just laid her down in the sand far on the other side of the intersection. Jeff and I proceeded across to give him a hand. He was a blithering idiot when we got off our bikes to help get the Widow up righted. He couldn’t stop talking with “Did you see that!!!! Thought I’d bought it!!! SHIT! And SHIT! AGAIN!”. We let him spill it all out hoping that would calm him down and before long his buddies were back having sadly missed the BVD soiling festivities. They were pretty bummed about that!

They were busting his chops and advising him how to ride his scoot to the barn without a clutch cable as Jeff and I rode back to our own barns. Jeff and I often remembered the sight of the flying “W” and the back of the smoking Widow Maker crossing the intersection at what looked to be a hop and we talked about it more than a few times. We finally figured out what it must have been like for Blue Jedi and it must have been akin to the Millennium Falcon of Hans Solo as he went to lightspeed. I still get to that intersection a few times a year and think of Jeff and those days. AND I still want a Crayola Blue Bassani’ed Widow Maker but I promise I would check my clutch cable often….maybe even daily!!

Years later I was touring up in New Hampshire and I was parked at a senic overlook up in the mountains when a bunch of Harleys pulled up. One of them noticed our Jap bikes parked nearby and decided he’d show is what real bikes sounded like and sat pointed at the overlook revving the bejesus out of that poor bike and telling his buddies he was going to jump. I could not help wondering what would happen if HIS clutch cable snapped.

Jeff was taken early in life by a massive heart attack. I got his KZ650 almost 20 years later after his brother laid it down and parked it for an eternity. I wrote the story up of restoring it and it’s here titled “My Best Friend”. I miss Jeff as he was my riding/fishing/hanging out buddy for years. Hope you all have had or has a friend like him. Hope you all liked the story too!