In addition to finding the slide of my ‘64 Chevy pickup last week I also found a slide of my 1979 Yamaha XS750 S.  I bought it in the summer of 1991 in Providence, RI from the original owner (ironically, just like my truck) after basically being dared by my mother to do so..

I was 18 at the time and had a summer job working for a master mold maker. It just so happened that in the loft next door to the mold shop lived the owner of this bike who kept it parked in the common hallway.  I lusted after the thing for months before getting up the nerve to ask him if he wanted to sell it since he had just bought a Honda Hawk GT and never rode the Yamaha.  He said that he would, so then I just had to ask my mother (since I was living at home that summer).

She was very against the idea of me owning a motorcycle, even when I pointed out the fact that she and my dad rode them before I was born.  Either in a tactical negotiating mistake or some bold parenting move she said “You can buy a motorcycle when you can pay for it and the safety equipment all by yourself”.

The next day I picked up a 2nd job and by the end of the summer the bike was mine.

I rode that bike for 10 years and loved it, despite the XS750’s reputation as being a bit of a mixed bag in performance.  It was even my only mode of transportation for 3-4 years in Atlanta and hauled all kinds of things that should never be strapped to the back of a motorcycle.  But, like my old truck, one day it just gave out on me.  That same week I was presented with the opportunity to buy a Ducati 900SS, and rather than fix the Yamaha I spent all my money to buy the Ducati, and eventually sold it to a guy on Ebay that was going to fix it up.

Like most guys in later live I have a yearning that bike, as if by having it back (or even one that looks the same, I can recapture part of my long faded past.  That’s not to say I regret the Ducati, it’s been a great bike, but that Yamaha was a good friend for many years for lean times in my life.