Tom Blum's Motorcycles

I Started riding two wheeled motorized vehicles in about 1954 in Grosse Pointe Woods, Michigan, a suburb of Detroit. A neighbor had an old Cushman Motorscooter that he would let us drive up and down the block.

What A thrill. We pestered that man to death.

A few years later, Michigan passed an "under 5 horse power" law that allowed licensing of 15 year olds for small cycles. I was first in line. My first bike was a BSA Bantam. I'm trying to get pictures of the specific bike from a friend, but here's a shot of the basic bike. Mine had a bobbed rear fender and was blue.

It would go about 50 mph (that's downhill with a tailwind) I remember reading in the old Cycle magazine that someone got one to go 100 mph in race trim. That's hard to believe.

I did completely disassemble this bike, with minimal tools, put it together and it ran. I also had my first accident in the first few days of operating it. I was looking at my reflection in a store window when the light turned red.

*******BANG!!!********

I rode right into the car in front of me. No serious injury to me or the bike. I was a soprano for a few days and the steering on the bike got quicker.

When I turned 16 it was time for bigger and better things. My next motorcycle was a 1950 Indian Scout. It was a 440 cc vertical twin.

The Indian got sold when I went to college.

After graduating I went into the Army. While stationed in New Jersey at Fort Dix, I bought a 1964 Honda Super Hawk. This bike was a 305 cc overhead cam machine. While it was a lot smaller than the Indian, it was more powerful and quite a bit faster. I broke the '"ton" on that machine, though it took quite a while to get to 100.

That's my friend, Lynn Smith, of Smithtown, N.Y. Sitting on my bike.

 

After the Army, I returned to Detroit. During that summer, I saw a guy on a motorcycle get killed in a stupid accident that he caused. That soured me on riding because I was kind of a stupid guy at the time myself.

 

Then I got married. I was bikeless for the thirteen year duration of my marriage. After my divorce, in search of roots or something, I looked to motorcycling again.

After searching for a smaller motorcycle, I found a deal on a three year old 1983 Honda Shadow 500.

The bike looked like new and only had 800 miles on it. Some rich guy bought it for his girlfriend and then they broke up. I picked up the bike in Coral Gables, Florida and drove it home. The last 100 miles was through a roaring thunder storm. It was a real bitch. I remember stopping at a Kentucky Fried Chicken place and putting my hands in the mashed potatos and gravy to warm them.(This isn't my bike. My bike had no windshield.)

I reintroduced myself to cycling with that bike. I never took any long trips, just short pleasure trips in the area.

After a while, I got four cylinder fever. I felt I would kill myself on a "big" bike, so I began to search for a project bike that was under 600 cc. I found a 1981 Suzuki GS550E.

(My snapshot is tied for world's worst)

It was a rat bike, with the baldest tires I have ever seen that still held air. It ran okay. No smoke or rattles or knocks. I bought tires, redid the brakes, reupholstered the seat, added straight bars and a cafe fairing and a 4 into 1 exhaust. I called it my "poor mans hurricane". I also added an after market Dyna electronic ignition after being stranded one time too many.. I never did paint it. I had almost $900 in that bike by the time it was done.

Then, one day, an ad in the local shopper caught my eye. A 1983 Honda V65 Magna, asking price $1100. I had ridden my neighbors a few times and remembered the mind warping acceleration. I was more confident of my ability to handle the horsepower now and soon the bike was mine.

I rode this bike to Kentucky and back one weekend. The trip back was a one day, 750 mile trek. Not really too bad on that big bike. All that horsepower makes 80 mph cruising comfortable and vibration free.

Now, I began an excess of motorcycle acquisitions. I sold the Shadow 500 for cash and a Suzuki 350. I decided the V65 Magna wasn't quite what I wanted, So I bought a Goldwing and I traded the Suzuki 550 for a KZ1000 with full dress.

The plan was to transfer the "full dress" from the Kawasaki to the Goldwing and sell the rest of the bikes.

The Goldwing turned out to have a bad stator. I was motorcycle poor. By the time I sold the Magna and the Kawasaki and the Suzuki 350, the Goldwing had deteriorated quite a bit. I learned an important fact about motorcycles. RIDE THEM OR THEY DIE. The goldwing is still moldering in the back porch. By the time I replaced the stator, the carbs were clogged. I rebuilt the carbs and the gas tank was rusted. Each time I repair something, a new area has deterioated.

Suffering from PMS (parked motorcycle syndrome) I developed the two motorcycle theory (tm). A small bike for town and the Goldwing for trips. I found a Honda CX500 Custom for $100. I bought a road race seat for the bike. It wouldn't fit the custom, so I had to buy a parts bike with the earlier style tank and rear fender. Then I added a Vetter Quicksilver fairing. $600 later, it was a pretty good looking bike.That's me with the bike.

But it was only a two cylinder bike and kind of buzzy at highway speeds. A year or so and four cylinder fever hit again.

Another ad in the local trader newspaper. I bought a 1981 Suzuki GS850G.

This was a nice bike with a Vetter Quicksilver Fairing. It ran kind of rough. I finally pulled the carbs and found one high speed jet loose in the reservoir bowl. It ran much better after that. But it was still a straight four cylinder. They all seem to have a buzz at highway speeds. This bike was okay at 70 mph, but kind of buzzy after that.

While looking for a V65 Sabre, I found a Honda V45 Sabre, which I traded the Suzuki for, even up. That's my daughter, Andrea riding pillion.

I've been riding it for about two years now. Modifications include adding a luggage rack and a bar mounted fairing ( from a Yamaha). It's okay, but I'm still looking for a V65 Sabre. If your Grandma has one stashed in her garage, let me know.

Contact me at mailto:teblum@gate.net

November, 1999:

Grandma called. Her name turned out to be Paul. To make a long story short, I found a V65 Sabre in California and bought it.

Now, If Someones grandma was an interstate trucker who could pick it up for me and deliver it to Florida, I'd be real thankfull.