In the beginning there were motorcycles - Part 1: The Algona Years

I’ve been around motorcycles my whole life. I can’t remember them not being present in my life in some shape or form.

In the early sixties Honda was making a name for themselves in the affordable motorcycle world. I don’t think he really knew how to ride a motorcycle when he bought his first bike—a used Honda 150. I’m pretty sure he dumped it quite a few times horsing around.

 We weren’t what you’d call “well off,” but luckily dad was pretty good at horsetrading. That 150 was eventually traded up into a bright red CB160. Actually, it wasn’t his usual trading because he bought this one new. It only took him a couple hours before he dumped it and dented the left muffler. It sure was a pretty bike though.

 If memory serves me, he didn’t consult with mom first. He got away with it, but it caused mom to buy a new washing machine without telling him.

Back then Honda was our go-to bike brand because they were cheap(ish), plentiful, and easy to work on. Dad learned early on that he needed some way to pay for the little things he needed, like cables, levers, gaskets, etc., so he started a little business. His goal was not to make money, but just to cover all of his own part expenses. He called it Williams & Son. For some reason he didn’t make it plural (I had two brothers and two sisters), but I think he thought it sounded more professional. Who knows. Dad wasn’t real well-educated, but he was definitely a gearhead with a mechanical mind. His teenage years were filled with dreaming over the pages of those pocket-sized mid-fifties car magazines, all of which I still have. Those were the days of shoehorning Cadillac engines into old Fords or whatever else you had handy. Anyway, his little business did well because people then were always looking for parts for their Honda’s. And dad was always breaking something.

Mom also enjoyed riding motorcycles. When she was having a rough day she liked to take whatever bike dad had at the time for a ride around our little hick town of Algona, Washington for a while to clear her head.

The longer he owned the CB160 the more liberties he took with it. Snow? Time to pull the kids around the yard!

 

After a time it became apparent that dad had more interest in dirt bikes than road bikes. There was a hillclimb at the edge of town, and back then you could hear anytime someone was attempting to climb it because in the pre-freeway days sound carried a lot further. When he heard someone attempting to climb it he would hop on his bike and race over to see who and what was going on. He ended up selling his CB160 and bought a Honda S90 (not the step-thru Trail 90.) That was a turning point for him. He ended up stripping and hot-rodding it, turning it into a nicely trail-worthy machine. Straight pipe, ported head, carb from a 250, car coil, and lots of other modifications. He even sent his camshaft down to California to Dempsey Wilson Cams where they put a custom grind on it. It really was very cool bike. It was in the family for many years. Here’s yours truly getting on it in our adjoining 1/4 acre field:

 

To me the S90 was a beast. It was loud and strong. The first time I rode it I could reach the footpegs fine, but not the ground. At one point dad and I were up in the woods someplace on a fairly steep dirt road. There were lots of guys on bikes around, taking turns on seeing who could climb that steep road the fastest. Dad asked me if I wanted to try it. Hell, I didn’t know better, so I said sure. When the hill was clear, he put me on it and held me and the bike up while he gave me last-minute instructions, “Keep your foot on the gearshift so a rock doesn’t hit it and knock it into neutral. Are you ready? Okay, when you start moving just hold it wide open.” Holy shit! I went pretty well for a ways, but little by little started fishtailing. I finally lost it and crashed, scaring the shit out of me. While I lay there crying, waiting for dad to catch up, I got quite an ovation from the other riders!

Once again, dad grew restless. This time he bought a brand new Bultaco 100 Lobito. It’s engine wasn’t much bigger than his S90, but boy would that thing go! As a kid in 5th or 6th grade, it was quite the handful for me, but I did get to ride it from time to time. That was the only 2-stroke he ever owned. I think it was a little to radical for him to use as a trail bike, even though that’s what he bought it for. He ended up only keeping it for a year or so.

As I mentioned already, we weren’t rolling in money. So where did dad get the money for all these things? He was a good mechanic, with a good eye for deals. He would buy something that needed work, do the repairs, and sell it for a nice profit. That technique meant we had a lot of cars over the years.

But that’s another story.