My dad. He had a GS500E, then a Kwakka GT750, and bought me my GP125 when I wanted to ride at 15, and when I wanted to step up found a KZ400 in a mates shed, and one of his mates was the motorcycle mechanics tutor at the Polytech and he got his students to completely restore the bike for me.
Motorcycling dads rock.
And I to my motorcycle parked like the soul of the junkyard. Restored, a bicycle fleshed with power, and tore off. Up Highway 106 continually drunk on the wind in my mouth. Wringing the handlebar for speed, wild to be wreckage forever.
- James Dickey, Cherrylog Road.
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