Today I made a chilly 70 mile ride back to my home town. A life long member of the community had past away and I was headed back to go to the funeral.
I had a good ride over and all but I had kind of a sadness over me the whole trip.
This old man was 82 when he passed. For the last twenty or twentyfive years he had a very long snow white "mountain man" beard. Top that off with a pair of overalls and you kind of get a picture of what he looked like.
He knew me all of my life and at times we were very close. I remember what first made him seem so different from everyone else in town...he and his wife had moved to California for a few years. When he moved back, well...he didnt just settle in to the local lifestyle like all of his brothers and others in town. One day I saw him blasting down the road on a fairly new looking Yamaha 305 scrambler. Seems a friend from out west brought it down and ended up leaving it with him to 'take care of.' The way he ripped around and the way people talked about his rippin (that was something my dad and others that age wouldnt do) made him 'too cool' to an eleven year old.
Now flash forward about ten years. I was home from school and he comes driving up to my house. He wanted me to go test ride a little motorcycle he was thinking of buying. I jumped in and the little bike turned out to be a Yamaha RD 350. I rode it around some and laid out what I thought for him. He paid up and we loaded it. As he dropped me off I warned him that the RD was one fast bike. To this day I remember his grin as he headed home.
A couple of years later he laid it down and got pretty "road rashed." Enough to make him stop riding the way he told it.
A couple of years after that it came up that he still had the bike. He'd had it fixed and parked it in his basement. I was between rides and had met a beautiful girl...who liked to ride around on a little Yamaha street bike. I asked if he'd sell it, just making conversation as I had heard he'd turned down several offers for it. When I told him why I wanted he grinned and got me the title. I rode it around for a while chasing around after and ended up giving it to my future wife as a present.
Yes my uncle Conley was one of the originals. A wild one before it was fashonable. He showed me a side of life that I'm just pretty sure only uncles are suppose to. I am so proud he took the time.
On the ride home I offered my prayers for my uncle and hoped someday I'd have a grin like that plasterd all over my face.
catch ya on the road
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