Identity

The little green Honda would eventually give up. It would literally be ridden till the engine was nothing but a puff of smoke and barely pull itself back to the house, nevertheless, it seems the die was cast. There would follow in the next few years a number of motorcycles to fill the gap left by the passing of the little green bike. 

There would be an F-series 175 Kawasaki, Honda MT 250, Honda CR Elsinore 125, Ossa 350 Super Pioneer, and an MR 250 Honda. The one pictured here is a 1974 CanAm TNT 125. These would all fall within the high school years of 1975 through 1978.  I would not own them all at once, though sometime I would have two or three at the same time. They were used bikes with the exception of the Honda MR 250 which came about through a trade. I had acquired a wrecked Honda 350 four-road bike which I had little interest in and it made enough equity in the trade to obtain the MR 250 as a new bike. 

They were all nice bikes and I will admit it does seem odd for one young man to have so many motorcycles during his High School year. For reasons I still don't quite understand, my Dad was into this motorcycle thing as well, not riding mind you, but trading for them, he loved to trade on things. The family had acquired additional resources through the passing of my Papa and my Dad seemed more than willing to spend some of it on buying and trading on these bikes. I never asked for these bikes, just having one would have been sufficient, but I never turned one down either. Dad had a friend that was into motorcycles, and most of these bikes came secondhand through him. He would ride one down to the house and tell Dad what a great bike it was, and the next thing I knew it was mine. This sounds like it would be pretty neat and I suppose it was, but it was also a bit unnecessary. I just figured if Dad enjoyed trading, I would enjoy riding! 

Sometimes in my studies, I wander over into the psychological side of things and do some reading from psychology websites. I guess I'm drawn there because I find myself curious sometimes why people act the way they do. It seems there is a distinction made in psychology between personal identity and social identity. Personal identity forms from the way we view ourselves as different from others, whereas social identity is formed from the things we have in common with others, you could say our likeness. Thinking on this now, it seems perhaps my personal identity began to form in such a way I was associating my uniqueness with these motorcycles. It was something I began to feel I was good at and wanted to project that image to others. I suppose you might say I was looking at that image to make me popular, even admired. 

To project this image I took on certain behaviors, covering my wall with dirt bike posters, placing decals of bike names on my notebooks, covering my jacket with motorcycle emblems, and wearing a very unique belt buckle called the sunset rider, which really was a neat buckle. I even had a rider doing a cross-up placed within my class ring. 

This image became more and more important to me, probably more than it should. A number of times, while making some pretty important decisions, I found myself considering how that image would be affected, I let it have a pretty significant weight in my decision-making process. A couple of examples could be sighted, after high school, I once turned down a job opportunity because it was going to interfere with my weekend riding. I suppose at that age that's not a real big deal, maturity hopefully would overcome such thinking. But on a more serious note, my profession of faith began to suffer. Riding opportunities began to present themselves on Sunday, and that was Church day, therefore, I was going to have to choose what I was going to do. Do I honor my commitment and remain faithful to my church, or do I yield to the temptation of putting it aside for the ride? I was a young Christian and had been studying my bible, however, my ability to understand certain aspects of theology and Christian doctrine was limited by the teaching that was available. In those days theological thought and methods of study were not readily at hand. So knowledge came much slower if at all. I can still remember the first Sunday I made the choice to take the ride instead of setting it aside as a day to be with the Church. Had I a better understanding of church history, the character and nature of God, and the honor and value of having an opportunity to Worship, I might have made a more informed decision. But the value of these things was in their infancy and I well understood the joy of riding. 

I understand some might think this to be a religious burden, something that religion places on a person. That is to misunderstand it all together, church was not at all a burden, it was a joy in my life even as a young teenager. It was just placed in competition with another joy in my life, when that happens one has to determine which is the more important. It would result in a life of inconsistency, the weight of conscience compelling me to honor my commitment to the Lord on Sunday, only to choose not to do so at the next big riding opportunity. I was the Sunday School superintendent at the local church, and when I was gone someone else had to fill that responsibility. This reflected upon my character, I was proving to be unreliable, and you simply could not depend on me to be there, unless, of course, it was a bike ride. 

A distinction I think needs to be made here, there are reasons people can not be at church on Sundays. There are positions in life that require and are necessary for people to be at their post to serve. In our society, the system can't just stop and shut down for Sunday worship. Even sports are occupied by Christians which prevents them from serving in a local church assembly consistently. This was not one of those situations, this was simply a young man placing a desire to go ride his motorcycle in preference to being faithful in attendance and committed to fulfilling his responsibilities in the service. This would be the pattern of behavior I would follow for years. 

However, things at school began to change for the positive during these years, especially a friendship that would develop and last throughout my life. A new student was to arrive at the beginning of the school year, one whom I had already been told was going to be coming to school there. This guy, according to rumors, was better than anyone around on a motorcycle. It was said he rode a DKW, and that shook me, I knew if that was true, we were not talking about a regular guy here.  I was told this guy was going to put me to shame. I began to feel a bit threatened, my image might be in danger!  

Well, we met and at first I didn't know what to think of him, he seemed ok and did indeed ride a DKW. The threat slightly subsided, and of course, the day would come when we would actually ride together. This was another big moment, it was during the time I had just acquired my driver's license. I had not yet ventured out from home by myself. For the first time, I loaded up my bike in the back of Dad's 1969 Ford Bronco and headed out on this grand adventure.   

My world would again get a little bigger, I had started with red clay gullies, then I found some boys that had a gravel pit, and now I had met someone who had an entire Pine Company! This boy lived next to a Pine Company which was filled with miles of bike trails. I had never seen anything like this before. 

I knew this could be a test, so the bike I chose to take was the fastest thing I had. These little bikes were amazing, new to market, and Honda would change the game with these things in the years to follow. I didn't know what I would be up against, so I wanted the best weapon I had in my arsenal and that was a 1974 Honda 125cc CR Elsinore. We met, I unloaded, we took off, and the first open section of trail we came to I opened it up and made it maybe a 1000 ft and the engine blew and the little bike locked up. We drug it back to the truck and became the best of friends. We would eventually log many hours of riding time together and share many adventures. Later in life when in some of my most difficult times, he was a friend that stood with me and never let me down. His whole family helped me through those times, they may never know what that meant to me. Even to this day, that exceptional loyalty remains. 
 

 

Over time just being identified with a motorcycle wasn't enough. I began to see competition as a means to prove not that I was good but better than most. I had a couple of opportunities to race that came my way a few years earlier, however, the circumstances were such as neither came to pass. I was really wanting to push this image to the next level. I wanted a trophy, I had it in my mind a trophy would prove my ability, and I would have some clout. 

I talked Dad into letting me have a race on our property. I built the trial and laid it out, specifically catering the design to be in my favor. The bike I chose for this ride was the Ossa 350 Super Pioneer, it was a superb machine. This was a race I felt I had to win. Dad bought some trophies, set a date, and I invited everyone I knew. The advantages I had designed on the track were enough to allow me to come out on top that day. There I am, and there is the infamous trophy, I think it may still be up in the attic. Here is a life lesson, what seems so important one day, the next can have such little meaning. The grand place it was supposed to fill would be empty again. I now understand I was looking to my ability to ride a bike to define who I was. The better I could be the better person I would be, and the more respect I would have. I was a young man trying to inflate his own ego, placing value upon things in life that would never produce the things I desired. What was once a simple joy of riding a bike was becoming a tool to gain affirmation and popularity. God's kindness in his providence however worked a great good in all of this. The friendships that developed and the people I met through my associations with motorcycles were and are of the greatest value. The bikes were great, the weakness was in my character and the place I began to give them in my life. It would take me more than a decade to learn this lesson well, but then that's another story.

David