Met the owner of this gorgeous machine at the convenience mart this morning when I stopped in for a milk shake after my own bike ride---my bicycle ride.
It's a Yamaha with some custom-added Harley parts. Owner calls it his Yamaharley.
Owner's seventy-five years old.
I asked him if he'd been riding all his life or was this something he'd recently taken up.
Used to ride a lot, he said. When he was young. He hadn't been on a bike in forty years before he bought this one last fall. Riding a bike is not like riding a bike, not for him, he's still getting used to it, and still nervous about it.
"I've put about forty miles on it," he said, laughing at himself. "It's a bomb. It flies. I'm not so good on the take-offs or on the turns." He put up his hands in front of him and bent at the knees as if he was on the bike and then he shook all over and opened his mouth and widened his eyes mimicking his own terrified look as the Yamaharley threatened to drive itself right out from under him.
On my way home I heard a beep-beep behind me and there he was coming up the road, his black Kaiser helmet shining on his head, He gave a wave without taking his palm off the throttle and then roared on ahead. Looked pretty cool to me.