This CL post really struck a cord with me. I found it while searching for old, cheap, broken motorcycles (because that’s what I do while drinking my coffee).
Here’s the text in case it gets deleted:
The hill where this guy and his dad went down is probably in the middle of the city now. There are places that my dad, brothers and I used to ride that are now in the middle of neighborhoods. Pretty sad to see how quickly this valley was gobbled up. I love talking to older people who grew up here. Gives me a sense of place in a city that has experienced such rapid change over the last thirty years.
While Phoenix is now a huge metropolis, it wasn’t too long ago that it was a dusty little desert town. Phoenix had a very close knit motorcycle community back in the day. There were two older guys who used to live around the corner from me that would sit on their porch all day drinking beer. One day they waved me down as I was passing by on my CL450. I thought they needed help, but they just wanted to talk bikes with me. They said our neighborhood had a whole bunch of guys who used to race bikes back in the 60s and 70s, and that one of them rode a Honda (pretty funny to think about one guy having a Honda on account of how ubiquitous they are now). I would shoot the shit with these two old drunks every time I passed their house. The one guy had had a stroke and couldn’t ride anymore, but he had an older Harley that he was piecing back together. I stopped seeing them about a year ago, and then someone bought their house and flipped it.
So, if any of you know anyone who rescued a guy and his kid in the now paved over deserts of North Phoenix, help this guy find his dad’s bike. Before and after of my bike for your time: