This is gonna become sorta a "story" of my first bike and one I would love to still have. In high school there was a kid a year older than myself who had a Triumph Bonneville. This was in the late 60's when The Bonnie was a serious bad ass bike. I would just go out there and sit on it and dream. If I could just get one of these, my life would be complete. The next summer I went to Alaska and lied about my age ( I was 16) and got a job with BLM fighting forest fires in the interior of AK. I returned to Seattle with a pocket full of money and promptly purchased a gorgeous 1966 Triumph Trophy 650. The only problem was, I didn't have a drivers license. (drivers education had just become a requirement for license.) The first day I had the bike I rode it down to Seward Park (Seattle) to show off and got pulled over for going off the pavement and got ticketed for not having a drivers license. Cop had sympathy for me realizing that I was a new owner of such a beautiful machine (he rode too) and allowed me to drive it home after I assured him I would stay off it until I got a license. "Yea, right".
A few hours later darkness had set in over a warm late summer evening. My glistening Triumph sat there beckoning me. Off I went back down to the park to show off some more. "No way that same cop would still be out and about." A different cop pulls me over for acting stupid and gives me another ticket for not having a license. (Ticket #2 same day I bought the bike.) My parents don't even know I own a bike yet. This time the cop isn't so impressed by my story and calls a wrecker to haul it away. While I'm sitting in the squad car sulking guess who pulls up?
Thats right, the same cop who ticketed me earlier.
He was not so nice this time. He chews me out real good as I slide lower in the back seat.
A week later, I couldn't resist it and took the bike out for a spin and the same cop passed me going the other way. I took a quick turn off the main drag and shot into a friends yard and jumped off and ran into the back yard with my fingers crossed. A minute later I hear a voice calling my name to get out there. Ticket #3 by the same cop. He made me push my bike home about a mile away. In the next three months I got two more tickets for not having a license by different cops (thank god). It was time to sell my beloved Triumph before I received a life sentence for being a habitual criminal. I finally go before a judge who has a stack of 5 tickets in front of him. He says no driving until I reach age of 18. (That aint gonna happen, but at least I don't have a motorcycle anymore.) Wish I still had that bike
