Back in 1964 when I was one year into a six-year hitch with the United States Coast Guard, I had an epiphany of sorts. A friend from my own home state of New Jersey had a motorcycle for sale. Well that's what he called it anyway, and he asked me if I wanted to buy it. Being somewhat besotted at the time I thought sure, why not? Now this is before I saw the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel and learned that it was an express, and not a local.

Cheap port wine was good enough for me and the nectar of the Muscat grape I saved for those special occasions. Like when I really felt a desperate need to embarrass myself more than I normally could. I was really great at doing that and it's one redeeming grace I still have to this day.

But looking at pictures of said motorcycle and deciding that his asking price was fair enough I went ahead and became the proud owner of a Honda 205cc Dream. My friend said that he would throw in a genuine Harley Davidson motorcycle jacket and a new helmet for the sum of $300.00 US coin of the realm. The clincher was that he would take installment payments of only $50.00 per month.

Now this "Dream" had a few odd things going for it. First there was no title law and all you needed was a hand written bill of sale and an old registration card to make it a done deal. There was a question about how old the damn thing was and how many miles might be on it. One thing I did know what that the engine had been completely rebuilt a few hundred miles ago as the dual megaphone mufflers he had installed quickly melted both pistons on a trip from Trenton to god-only-knows-where. At that time the speedometer cable was also replaced. So now we have a rejetted, rebuilt, megaphone exhausted, ugly as sin, blue and red with white sidewall tires, Honda! A nice set of ape hangers would have about done it I'd say. But sadly enough I never found a set or they would have been on it also. But I did remove the front fender to give it that sport look that everyone wasn't crazy about yet back in the sixties, but Peter Fonda would change all that soon enough. Yes, The chopper craze was about to enter Massachusetts.

Now I rode with some interesting types back then and one of them owned an old but nice, BMW 500 and he soon enough traded that in on a used Harley Sportster. Now the BMW I could keep up with on a good day for the "Dream" and a bad day for the BMW, the Sportster was something altogether different.

But this was the bike I learned to ride on and I wore that damn helmet all the time. No helmet laws and no motorcycle license required for that matter. I bought the Dream in the spring and rode the hell out of it; I put a lot of miles on it and had many an interesting trip to nowhere as well. I even did without a car and rode year 'round, which certainly cut into my romantic escapades more than a little. That's where the Muscat grape enters the picture. Can't screw around so I might as well be drunk.

But there was always something nagging at me and that something was a bigger, more powerful machine. So the following spring I rode it up into New Hampshire and found a Honda dealer who would take it in trade. What I bought was my second Honda, a 305cc Scrambler. I think the price new back then was $495.00 and that included delivery to the Lifeboat Station in Gloucester, Massachusetts. That was at least an hour's drive and the dealer never even blinked. All he asked was that I shut off the GD noisy Dream as the megaphones made it sound a lot like four enraged Briggs and Stratton lawnmowers that have gone berserk on good Bourbon and bad branch water!

But when I say that it wasn't an investment I'd probably better clarify that statement. It was an investment; only at the time I was usually too damn drunk as snot to know it. It was the start of a relationship with two wheeled transportation that I've had now for 36 years and counting.

There were a lot of other bikes over the years, with only a brief time-out to get married in 1968. But Mariann, my wife of 32 years knew me only too well and understood that I couldn't live without a bike. She still feels the same way to this day, and although being a nurse, her back is shot to hell, though she can't ride anymore, she still has a love for bikes. Luckily, she also has a love for me, and were it not for her I wouldn't have been able to buy the latest addition to my stable of crotch cars. Last Spring I paid cash-money for my latest toy, one that she knows she will never ride, my new Road Star; I owe it to that damned old Honda Dream and one very special woman. She also reformed me and for some strange reason I haven't taken a drink since the day we got married. Now that was as I mentioned, 32 years, two months and god knows how many days ago.

Well I'd have to say that the old Honda, ugly as it was, it was one hell of a good investment, one that you just can't put a monetary price on because it was the beginning of a long and wonderful trip, all on two wheels.

Oh sure, other bikes followed and more than a few were just as strange. One old US ARMY Harley WLA 45, which I traded the Scrambler outright for. An Indian Chief of questionable vintage, both of those with tank shift and foot clutch. Then another Honda 450 and a Suzuki Thumper and then a few Yamaha's. (The Road Star being only the latest) So I've been sober and riding for the better part of 32 years on the first and 36 years on the last. Not bad at all in the investment department really.

Sadly the Harley jacket no longer fits me, my cargo area has shifted somewhat and I'm not twenty years old and bullet proof any longer. But the jacket is as good as new; someone else is still wearing that thing. But the helmet went to a kid down here in Florida who was riding a mini bike. All that's missing is the Dream. But I still keep that damn picture around just to remind me of when and how all this got started. To be honest I doubt if I could have started off with any better bike under the circumstances.

The dream is still alive, long live the Dream!

Do you have a first ride that holds a special place in your heart? Would you like to share your rememberances with everyone who reads the StarCruiser? It was suggested that, "First Rides," be a recurring column, and we'd love to see it happen! So c'mon and send in your musings on the bike or bikes that got you started in the wonderful world of motorcycling. -Ed.