I grew up in the hills of West Virginia riding dirt bikes my uncle (bob lough) always had Harleys. I would go to my grandparents every Sunday for the family dinner. While I was there my uncle would be turning wrenches on the bike he had at that time. I would help him by getting in the way. We spent many hours working over those Harleys. One of my childhood memories was if I could start it then I could ride it. Being only 13 years old my uncle thought that day would not come anytime soon I didn’t weigh but about 98 #. Many times I tried to kick start it and many times I would get hurt. Everyone would get there kicks watching me from afar.
One Sunday that summer I got to my grandparents’ house and like always I would go over to the garage and mess with his prized Harley. This day was different and I jumped on the kicker and came down on it and it fired up … I was shocked. My uncle came running out not knowing what was going on with his pride bike and saw me sitting on it twisting the throttle with a smile so wide. He said to run her up the road and to be careful with his baby. Boy oh, boy I got my first ride on his baby and I was proud.Looking back he had started the Harley and had just shut her down and was going inside to get a drink and mom and Dad pulled in just at the perfect time. I got my ride… as the years past along with my uncle his 1995 heritage sat on a jack in the garage just waiting to hit the road I’m 49 yrs old now and I own the last Harley he rode.
My uncle Bob looks down on his Harley and me riding around with a smile on his face thinking how he has passed the tradition of the peace and enjoyment of the wind in your face and the rumble of that big twin going through the curves of WV…
Seven years that bike had sat lonely in that garage by itself just waiting to get back out on the road for another great memory. I want to thank Harley Davidson and my uncle Bob for giving me that first ride.