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With Thanksgiving weekend behind us and the holiday season in full swing, most of us can be thankful for those in our lives who have touched us over the years.
In my case, one such person is my brother.
In particular, we have shared both the joys of the car culture, and the hardships of a vehicle breaking down. Although, I don’t want to focus on the latter too much.
Two Wheels
My first experience driving was actually with a motorcycle since I was too young to be able to drive a car. It was a second hand 1967 Yamaha with a 2-stroke 100cc engine. It was red with a chrome gas tank. It had two carburetors. I had to charge the battery all the time because the alternator or generator or whatever charged the battery was toast and I could not afford to have the part replaced. No matter, I loved my motorcycle. I put it through so many things and it kept on ticking.
My younger brother had a 1969 50cc Sears motorcycle that was made in Austria. We purchased it from an elderly gentleman who had decided that he was too old to be riding motorcycles. He had ordered it from a catalog. It was also red, but unlike mine, it was a 4-stroke and he didn?t have to put oil in his gas.
It ran great.
Even Trade
One day, an older kid from school wanted to ride my bike. In exchange, he would let me drive his car, which happened to be a Dodge Charger. I didn?t understand why, but I didn?t question it. I was intrigued. The Charger was pretty ...