My first Mortorcycle

Nick.
Congrats on the new bike! I remember my first bike, a 4 year old 1967 Bultaco 250 Pursang. I just turned 18 and it was the hottest bike going at the time. We went down to a place called Golden West in Huntington Beach. Big dirt pit about one square mile with lots of ups and downs; jumps; and short hills. My buddy Joe took me out. He had a Yamaha DT 250. Yamaha wasn't much back then, in fact they were a joke.
At the time Bultaco was the real race bike and just having one you were supposed to know what you were doing. I didn't have a clue. In fact the only motorcycle I had ever ridden was my buddy's Honda 90 in his driveway. Oh yah, I forgot. Another time I rode was when I went to a cabin in the mountains with my parents for a long weekend. My buddy Patrick came along with us. There wasn't much to do so instead of sitting around the cabin we found a place in town where they rented Honda 90's by the hour. We rented one for a couple of hours and took turns riding each other around on the back. Always being competitive kids we decided that we would race, starting at the cabin. One of would hold the watch and keep time while the other one would ride a round trip on the twisty turns into town and back. The deal was the guy riding was to ride to the stop sign about 3 miles away and turn around and come back, seeing who could do it in the shortest time. It was the only way to race with only one bike. We were learning to race damn near before we learned to ride. He beat me on time but I have always suspected that he didn't go all the way to the stop sign. It was the honor system since you couldn't see the other guy riding after he went around the first corner. I figure he cheated since I know I didn't go all the way to the stop sign and he beat me. Racing around the twisty roads in the mountains I could have been racing for the world championship. It was great!
Back to the Bultaco story, We arrived at Golden West. It was bigger than life with lots of other guys that seemed to know what they were doing. Everyone was single file riding the long track like a big motocross course. I putted around acting like I knew what was happening when every once in a while someone would blow by me on a 100 cc or something equally demeaning.
Remembering back, the funny part was, after riding for a half hour or so I pulled into the area where everyone’s trucks were parked. Some guys were just sitting around between rides checking out the other guys and others were working on their bikes. Not me. I was sitting on the seat keeping my bike running, revving it up every second or two with the clutch in and in gear. Loud, obnoxious, and smokey.
You see a month or two before, when I was shopping for just the right bike, my pal pointed out a Bultaco and told me that "Bultacos are real racing bikes and made to race all day long. You don't shut em off. Just keep racing it." There I was remembering that vast wisdom other 17 year old had, revving my bike with the clutch in at the parking area where the other guys are hanging out.

In those days the clutch was the weakest part of Bultacos and after a minute or two the clutch started to heat up to the point that I couldn't hold it back. Off to the races I went, in gear and a clutch that wouldn't release. One of the guys hanging out saw my problem and told me how we were going to fix it.
"Just screw in this clutch screw until it starts working again like this".
Well there was no problem getting the bike to stand still now while I kept her running but the clutch slipped so bad that it felt like the rear tire was spinning every time I gave it the gas.
This leads in to my first trip to the motorcycle shop for parts and advice. We will cover that in part 2. It only gets better Nick.
I can't think of another time in my life that I felt more alive and excited to have my very own motorcycle. You only get one first bike. Savor every minute of it.
Uncle John
PS: Thanks for the trip down memory lane.