The Triumph Motorcycle Story

A True Story

Three strikes and you are out

Written 3/2010* 1,414 Words*

#168 By Howard Yasgar

I was just 15 years old when I ended up owning a Triumph 650cc Bonneville motorcycle.

The story started like this.

One day my good friend Richard Andrade called me up, he said, “Come on over to my house, I’m buying a motorcycle”.

Richard was a year older than me, and he already had his driver's license.

When I got to his house, Richard and his two brothers were standing around a beautiful black

Motorcycle.

Richard said it was a 1950 Triumph Bonneville, and his neighbor wanted $500.00 for it.

I could see the motorcycle had squeeze style levers on the handlebars, just like my English bicycle had.

Richard said he had just ridden the motorcycle, and he found that it was very easy to ride.

Richard, who at the time was my best friend, asked me if I wanted to try it out.

I had never been on a motorcycle before, so I said no.

Richard said, what are you afraid of it’s just like riding your English bicycle.”

At first, I was very hesitant, but eventually I got on.

He said one lever was for the brake and one lever was for the clutch, and you turned the hand grip for gas.

Next thing I knew I was sitting on a motorcycle, trying to remember everything I was told.

At the time, we were all standing in the parking lot of a local Italian Bocce Ball court, the parking lot was about 300 feet long with a wooden storage shed at the very end.

With Richards help, I put the motorcycle in first gear and gave it gas, and then I forgot what all the levers were for.

I hit the wooden shed at about 30 miles per hour, crashing right through the wall.

It was an amazing accident, unbelievably I didn’t have a scratch on me, but the motorcycle was bent up like a pretzel.

It had a bent fender, bent front wheel, damaged headlight, dented gas tank and on and on.

So that’s how I ended up owning a Triumph Bonneville motorcycle for $500.00.

It took me several months of work but eventually I fixed everything up on the motorcycle.

Then I got my driver’s license, and off I went on my like new motorcycle.

The Triumph was not a particularly fast motorcycle, but that didn’t stop me from racing anyone that pulled up next to me at a streetlight.

At the time, a popular place for kids to hang out in the evening was Jimmy’s Restaurant, it was located next to the Savin Rock Amusement Park in West Haven Connecticut

So, Jimmies was where I started going in the evenings.

One evening there was an unexpected thunderstorm, and I waited underneath a bridge for over an hour for the rain to stop.

When it became obvious the rain wasn’t going to let up, I decided to ride home anyway in the rain.

As I rode along, there was more heavy rain and lots of lightning.

Suddenly I saw there was a two-tone brown 1954 Chevrolet right in front of me.

When the traffic slowed down and I got close enough, I could see the car was full of young girls, and several were in the back seat, they were watching me ride in the rain and they were all giggling.

When the traffic speed picked up, I tried to stay about 30 or 40 feet behind them.

Then, suddenly, and for some unknown reason, the driver of that 1954 Chevrolet slammed on her brakes.

I squeezed my own brake, but the motorcycle didn’t slow down one bit.

I was wearing motorcycle boots, so I tried slowing down the bike by pushing my left boot down hard on the road, but the boot was soaking wet, so nothing happened, then I tried it with my right foot.

The motorcycle and I were now completely off balance, and as I tried straightening it up, all I could see was the rear of that 1954 Chevrolet getting closer.

Out of the corner of my eye, to my right I saw the plate glass windows of an auto agency, and then there was a narrow alleyway.

When you are about to crash, they say your entire life flashes in front of you.

Well, I envisioned myself in a hospital bed hanging there with my arms and legs in casts.

All of this was happening in my mind in a matter of a couple of seconds, as my motorcycle was now completely out of control and spinning around on the wet pavement.

Then, everything was silent, in my mind I was waiting for the sound of glass breaking.

I really don’t know what happened, but the next thing I knew, it had stopped raining, and I was standing over my motorcycle and I was about 10 feet inside the narrow alleyway.

My motorcycle was on its side but still running, and the handlebars were all ground up on both sides from rubbing on the concrete.

Once I stopped shaking, I looked everywhere for signs of blood, but I didn’t see any.

I was really shaking but I righted the motorcycle and rode out of the alleyway and onto the street again.

At the next stoplight, there was the same two tone 1954 Chevrolet, it was right in front of me again.

As soon as the girls saw me coming, I saw them lock the car’s doors, they must have thought I was going to kill them.

It took me several months to get over that near disaster however I eventually did.

Then, once I was mentally ready to take the motorcycle out again, I decided to do some general maintenance by cleaning up the motorcycle and lubricating it.

The Triumph motorcycle has a knob that you can use to loosen or tighten the steering.

Well, I loosened the knob to lubricate it, but I somehow forgot to tighten it.

I then took the motorcycle for a quick ride around my neighborhood.

My neighborhood streets were empty, but I could see the milkman in his Divco truck, he was coming down the street heading towards me.

I was travelling about 25 miles an hour and I went to make a fast left-hand turn to get out of the milkman’s way.

But because I forgot to tighten the steering knob, my front tire and handlebars spun all the way to the left and my motorcycle flipped over.

Again, I don’t exactly know what happened, but as I lay there in the street all tangled up in the motorcycle, the milkman pulled his truck up right next to me.

He looked down at me and he said, “Are you alright”.

I said, “I don’t know, but I think so, nothing feels broken.

The Milkman said, “I never saw anything like that, do you know that you flipped completely over, I thought you were dead”.

I got up and walked the motorcycle to my home.

I think three close call accidents were the magic number.

The next day, the Triumph was parked in front of my house with a sign, For Sale, 1950 Triumph Bonneville $500.00.