8/7/2009 old bikes, hound dogs & radar love

365 Group (f)

I ride older, some would say worn out, bikes. They are mostly products of the late sixties to the early 80's. The stuff that I grew up with. Also, I was trained as a mechanic for the big four Japanese bikes. So I can work on them if I need to. Where I live there isn't anyone around at the shop level that seems to be able to do even the most minor thing to a bike that is any older than five or six years. "Cant get parts for those old bikes". Anyway, That's partly the why I do the older bikes.
My current favorite ride is a 1977 Kawasaki kz750 twin that I have "hacksawed" into a"real motorcycle". Due to it's age I have the opportunity to work on it quite often. I enjoy it, riding it or replacing the wiring that has worn through after only thirty two years. One thing about getting to work on it. It gives me an excuse for a ride. "Shake down". Gotta see if it's fixed.
With all that in mind let me tell you about Radar. Radar is an old hound dog. Mixed bred to the point he was just a hound. Tired looking and old when I first met him.
I was doing a "shakedown" ride after some late night work on my carburetors. I had decided to run over to my brothers place and pester him (drink his beer and let him feed me) for a while all under the guise of road testing my repairs. About half way over to my brothers place there is a brake check pull off that is real handy when one has had too many cups of coffee and is riding a twin from the seventies. I usually stop there either going or coming. As I pull in I notice an old dog laying beside the pavement. My first thought was it was road kill. I park and get off and notice that he's alive. Cool! There are a few houses in the distant area so I figure he's just taking a break.
While I was walking around a bit and attending to the coffee overload I notice the old dog sniffing around the bike. Finally he gets all sniffed out and lays down beside it. Looking him over close, I see he's a stray. You could tell that someone had taken good care of him until just recently. He was friendly enough and I figure probably,due to his age, someone hauled him out here in the middle of nowhere and dumped him. I looked through my bag and found a bottle of water and my travel cup. I filled the cup and set it back a ways from the road.
As I pulled out I felt a little sad for the old dog.
My visit with my brother went well and I killed most of the day with him and his family. On my way back to the house I kept thinking about the old dog at the pull off and wondered if he had been run over yet.
I had a great ride through the hills and my late night work on the carbs was holding up nicely. I was planning on a lazy ride, going all the way around Highway 16 back home. That was my plan. I remembered it as I dropped off the mountain on Highway 21. Oh well, this way I'll know if the old dog is still alive.
Pulling up to the pull off I see a mini van and a family but no old hound. Relieved in a way that he wasn't splattered all over the road I start to pull back out when I hear a real loud NO!! Looking over at the mini van I see both the parents shaking their heads in that way that only parents can. That way that lets you know that you've about got on the last and only good nerve they had left. I kind made a nosy circle back by the van to see what all the shouting was about. The two kids, a boy and a girl, maybe five or 6 years old, had found the old hound and had put him in the van and were wanting to take him home. The parents were having none of it. As I slowly rolled by the old dog jumped out of the van and came over to me. I stopped and before I knew it had his front paws in my lap as if to say HELP!!!!!!
Normally, I'm not a push over in cases like this, but for some reason this situation got to me. I talked with the parents and found out that they were going right by the turnoff I take back to the town I live in. I made a deal with them to haul the dog to where I turn off and I would take it off their hands. This seemed like it would keep the kids happy and I'd know the dog wasn't run over. (for some reason the thought of him being run over had been on my mind all day)
I pulled out ahead of them and let the hammer down so I could get there and be parked and have a plan all thought out by the time they got there. They were going to have to help me lose my mind once we got there.
Pulling over at the intersection I set the kickstand and waited. Half way hoping that the parents had changed their minds and were going to let the kids keep him.
They hadn't and pulled in beside me. Now my intent was to try and haul him the 10 miles to my place and load him into the truck and haul him over to a friend of mines place. She has a large farm and no matter how silly, loves me to death.
The dad said now what? I explained that I need him to lift the hound up and set him in my lap. Seeing a "your nuts" expression cross his face he lifted the dog up and on to my lap. While all this was going on I could hear their radio in the van playing Radar Love by Golden Earring. An old classic. Just like the dog.
The hound squirmed around and finally got situated. His butt on the tank and his head and front paws over my left shoulder. Kind of funny. He acted like he had done this before. Real relaxed, a natural born rider.
We took off. With "radar love" running through my head and the hound hugging me, I thought this has got to be one of the dumbest things I've done on a bike in a while. I wasn't even drunk. Nothing to blame it on. Still it was pretty cool. So cool in fact, I made a couple of passes through my small home town.
I pulled into my parking space at the house and the old dog jumped off and waited for me. I got off and started towards the house for the truck keys, he fell in beside me.
Grabbing the keys I called Sandy and told her I was bringing her a surprise and would be there in about half an hour.
My little Republican guard had done the mandatory "whoopin and hollerin" when I came in with a strange "new" dog. By the way it sounded you'd have thought their world had come to a violent end. All of a sudden it was quiet. Too quiet to be good. I ran out side and stood on the porch in shock. My little Republicans were all laying beside the old hound in the sunshine. All had a silly contented look on their faces.
I called Sandy back and told her I would be a little later than I first said. I had to come up with a name for a dog. She told me I was nuts and hung up. I'm going to have to take her to dinner and explain all this.
Thinking about it, that song was still running through my head, I decided I could name him Earring or Radar. Everyone seemed to agree that he was a Radar sort of feller. So we, my little Republicans and I offically named him Radar E.
I don't know who dumped Radar on the highway. People like that are one of the lowest forms of life I can think of. But I guess I owe them a thanks. I got a real buddy now. One that's always ready to go for a ride.
I'm hoping to spruce up and DE flea and get a few pictures of my new bud that I can add to this later.
Catch ya on the road