Not all motorcycles are Harley-Davidsons...and that's perfectly OK.

As the title, implies... this is not going to be about Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Instead, let's just say it's about motorcycles in general... and the love and passion that they inspire.

A good friend of mine acquired a motorcycle a while back from a family member. It's an old bike, not necessarily cool or trendy by today's standards and it wasn't even in good condition. It wasn't running, the tires were dry rotted and flat, the gas tank was rusty and had pinholes in it, one of the head gaskets was blown and just to add an extra level of aggravation to the mix- the carbs were off and not synchronized. I could go on, but why bother? Suffice to say that the bike, by most people's standards, would be considered ready for the scrap heap. But... not for my buddy, nope, he decided that he needed to save it.

Look, I'm pretty handy with a set of wrenches. I know enough basics to get me by, and I am definitely not afraid to take on the task of breathing life back into an old, dilapidated and neglected machine... especially a vintage motorcycle, but my advice to him was "just get a different bike, man." He ignored my advice and decided to start turning wrenches to see what would happen... and I'm so glad he did.

Now, you might have assumed that my friend is a master mechanic, maybe a custom bike builder or some kind of vintage motorcycle expert... and you'd be wrong. He's just a regular guy that goes to work every day and tries to do the best that he can do for the people that he works for. The funny thing is, he's not even a biker! He's never even really ridden a motorcycle before all of this and he sure as hell never rode this one. So, why in the hell would a guy like him, take on a task that even the most experienced of mechanics would shy away from for a bike that he has no idea about? Let's look further, shall we?

The bike in question is an 1983 Honda GL1100i, yep... an ole skool Goldwing Interstate... and his father-in-law gave it to him. The bike is from Canada and it sat in a garage, untouched for the better part of 15 years. When my buddy and his wife moved their family back to the good ole U.S. of A. from the land of maple syrup, he brought this crusty old 'Wing with him, not really even knowing what he might do with it at the time. But, after being bitten by the motorcycling bug (and maybe after receiving some, slight, pressure from yours truly), he decided to make a move on it. He looked at a few different options to bring the bike back to life, but ultimately decided to open up a service manual and start turning wrenches himself.

He's still working on it, but as ole Doc Frank N. Stein said... "that bitch is alive!"  My buddy, who could also be known as Doctor Goldwingenstein, has touched, almost, every part of this motorcycle. Gas tank- repaired, cleaned and sealed; head gaskets- replaced (twice on one... don't ask); timing belts (yeah, apparently some motorcycles need belts for timing, weird)- replaced; one head replaced and all valves lapped; carbs (all four of 'em- sheesh!) rebuilt and synchronized; ignition system- upgraded; brakes- currently being rebuilt; and- just for shits and giggles- every one of those old incandescent light bulbs from the era when John Hughes' movies were in theaters and when MTV actually played music videos (gasp!), you know, those bulbs that looked as if they were actually powered by candlelight, well, those have been replaced with modern LED units. Add to that, he's cleaned, painted, polished and tweaked some of the cosmetic stuff to give it a slightly more modern, but significantly cooler, look.

Some of you reading this may ask, why bother? At the end of the day, he still has a 1983 Goldwing that is so old that it doesn't even show up in the Blue Book or the Nada guides. You might even say, it's not worth the time and effort that he's put into it. But... and this is my favorite part of the true motorcycling culture... it's worth it to him. It has value to my buddy and his wife- in both a sentimental way and in a personal pride and achievement way. He got it running again, not some shop or some mechanic, but he did it. 

You see, that's the beauty of motorcycles and the motorcycling community as a whole. We see the beauty in things that others may not see. We understand that every bike has a story and that story just gets more interesting as it gets older. In a throw-away society, we choose to salvage these old machines, restore them, customize them and make them our own. Most people that would never even attempt to work on their own car, will turn a wrench on their bike without a second thought. It's because, in part, motorcycles are personal machines. They aren't one-size-fits-all, they are specifically fit to us. Not everybody has, or wants, the same kind of bike, the same make, model or even style. And... the really cool part, is that true motorcyclists don't care what their buddies ride, just as long as they share that common bond- the passion of riding.