Some of my early memories had to do with machines, motor vehicles, and places on the South Dakota farm where I grew up. I think most kids who were raised in the country, have some adventures they remember, especially if they were as wild as my brothers and I were.
The memory I am writing about today concerns an old motorcycle that was stored in a dark equipment shed on our farm. When it first came to our attention, it seemed huge, but I was only 7 or 8 years old at the time. It was covered with dust, leaning against the wall, and the dirt floor of the old shed was covered with mouse droppings. To a couple of young adventurers, it looked like the perfect place to play. We dusted it off with an old rag, and we were ready to ride. We climbed on, made all the right sounds, and we were wild motorcycle riders. We would return to ride that motorcycle many times over the next few years.
The motorcycle was a monster. It was a dark red 1941 Indian model 441, with a 4 cylinder engine, and full skirted fenders. My dad had road it all over our part of the country for several years before he was married, but it had been parked in the shed for around 10 years by the time we started playing on it. A few years later, my dad's cousin came and talked him out of it with ideas of getting it running and on the road again. It eventually ended up with a collector in Denver.
As for me, it's one of the early memories I will always cherish. My dad, my brothers, and myself, were all avid motorcycle riders at different times, for many years of our lives. Maybe all because of that same old motorcycle.
For more of my adventures, check out my book at this link; Grab Some Gears
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| 1941 Indian series 441 like the one my dad had. (internet photo) |
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