![]() ![]() About the same time I fell in love with bikes I fell in love with cameras. Check out the no fenders, bald tires approach to go-fast. Andy Romanoff in 1960, about eighteen years old. Mostly the bikes I rode were street rats. ![]() ![]() For a little while, I worked as a bike mechanic, and along the way, I built a few fast-motored drag bikes and raced them in the streets. As I neared forty, I still had bikes, an Ossa trials bike for the dirt, a Honda Gold Wing for the interstates, and a Yamaha SR 500 for carving the canyons. I graduated from that to a James 125 and then I had a long string of bikes, an Indian 80, some Harley‘s, a Triumph, a BSA 500 single and an Ariel Square Four. About a year after I saw them I got my first bike, a Whizzer, and I taught myself how to ride and how to fix it. They owned the road, and they transfixed my fourteen-year-old soul. They weaved through traffic, greasy denim kings on shiny metal horses. They charged headlong through the downtown Chicago streets, all black and chrome and straight pipes blasting. I have always loved motorcycles The first riders I remember were Chicago Outlaws.
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