by Jim Cathcart
Since I was a preteen in Little Rock, Arkansas I have been in love with motorcycles. I know, there are dangers and everyone I've met has at least one story about someone who was injured on one. But somewhere in me there is an almost genetic predisposition in favor of motorcycles. I even like seeing the word in print! M-o-t-o-r-c-y-c-l-e. Nice.
Jack Edwards lived just down our street and had a Triumph. It was midnight blue and had loud pipes that all our neighbors hated. But it was music to me. He'd let me watch as he worked on his bike in the driveway and I can still recall the wonderful smell of the engine, leather and petroleum products. I couldn't wait to grow old enough to have one.
When you reached age 13 the state of Arkansas would issue a learners permit for bikes. That Christmas my wonderful parents blessed me with a Harley Davidson "Topper" motorscooter. It had a 165cc engine and an automatic transmission. Top speed was about 50 mph if you were going downhill with a tailwind. But I loved it! It was my ticket to the world.
After acquiring my full license I started the routine of going for daily rides after school and on weekends. I'd ride until I got lost and then find my way home. Risky perhaps, but in the 1960s the risk was low. I discovered virtually every street, road and alley in central Arkansas. Then I got a newspaper route and rode my scooter to deliver the papers. That little vehicle changed my life. Or more accurately, it changed the size of my world.
I wasn't particularly "cool" for riding it. After all, it was almost silent and had no power. But it took me where I wanted to go, even if I didn't yet know where that was. My parents were relieved of the need to shuttle me to and from sports events, movies, school and more. They liked the convenience and Mom, bless her heart, never made me feel that she worried about me while I was out for a ride.
I kept the Topper until High School when it was decidedly un-cool to have a scooter. So, one weekend when something on it broke I relegated it to a corner of the garage and never got it running again. Sorry about that.
Years went by and I always pined for another bike but didn't get one until one day in 1968 the temptation was just too great. I went to Doug Reynold's Suzuki shop, a brand new hole-in-the-wall-sized dealership to kick tires and possibly buy a used small bike.
But when I walked in the door there it was.
No, not another Topper, but "The Rolls Royce of Motorcycles", a BMW R69US! That was the king of the road for folks who didn't like to work on their motorcycles. The Harleys, Indians and Triumphs were way too high-maintenance back then. Doug asked me if I'd like to take it for a ride. Gulp! My heart was in my throat. Me? Ride one of the finest bikes in the world? Me?? Really??
Well, that was a "puppy dog" sale. (When the pet store owner suggests you take the puppy home for the night to see if you want to keep it, you have officially become a puppy owner. Your family names it and it cannot go back to the store.) The same was true for MY new bike. I still remember the price, big at the time, $2010.00. I had to finance it for $60 a month. :-) But that same day I was the proud owner of one of the finest bikes on the road at that time.
Now my world was getting really big. I rode it to Oklahoma, all over Arkansas and occasionally into Tennessee, Texas and Louisiana. If my job had permitted I'd have ridden it all over North America. I kept the bike until late 1970 when I got married and promised my lovely bride that I'd not buy another until first we got a house of our own.
Fast forward almost a generation. We had bought numerous houses and moved to California. My business was my own and life was sweet but, you guessed it, incomplete. One day in 1990 when Paula heard me whimper with jealousy as a motorcycle rode by, she said, "why don't you just go get a motorcycle and get it out of your system?" God bless that woman. It took me almost a day to do so.
I bought a used BMW rode it everywhere within 1,000 miles of home and traded it for another BMW, which I rode to Cody, Wyoming and back. Then I traded for a Honda, then a Kawasaki, a Triumph (yes a Trophy 1200), another Kawasaki, then two Triumphs and today I ride a Yamaha FJR 1300.
Several wonderful experiences have grown out of all those motorcycles. While Jim Jr. was in college in Santa Barbara we lived in San Diego and I'd frequently ride the 220 miles north to pick up Jimmy and take him on a 1,000 mile motorcycle adventure. When Paula and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary she got a new diamond ring and I got 14 days of motorcycling through the Swiss, German, Austrian and Italian Alps with her on the back seat! We loved it so much we repeated it and added France to the itinerary to celebrate our 30th. We've toured New England on a Harley Road King during the changing of the leaves. We toured Colorado, much of California and more. It has been a great way to share some pretty exciting adventures.
I've served on the pit crew of Championship motorcycle drag racer Ricky Gadsen and taken advanced handling skills instruction on Infineon (Sears Point) Raceway and Laguna Seca Raceway. Full speed under the supervision of World SuperBike Champion Reg Pridmore. Yeee Haaa! I've also attended Daytona Bike Week twice but haven't yet made it to Sturgis, SD for their annual event.
In 1968 after a long motorcycle ride I got out my guitar and wrote a song about motorcycling titled "Riding Free". (Lyrics posted below) I didn't publish the song until 2004 but it is recorded and linked here for your enjoyment.
The link takes you to a video interview of me by Selling Power Magazine's publisher, Gerhard Gschwandtner. The song is linked into that clip.
I've been booked for speeches and seminars by Harley Davidson, Suzuki, Kawasaki, BMW and Honda. My hobby has enhanced my business, my marriage and my life. And yes I wear a helmet even in states where the law doesn't require it. I figure I've ridden about 150,000 miles and my worst mishap was a 1995 spill on a country road where I cracked a bone in my wrist and picked up an "ass-fault" tattoo. A few weeks later I was healed and back in the saddle. I'm more careful now but happy to be "riding free" for as long as my mind and body will cooperate.
Here are the lyrics to Riding Free. I hope you've enjoyed this message, and, thank you in advance for resisting the temptation to send me stories of the dangers of motorcycling. Now go for a ride and have a great day!
Riding Free
By Jim Cathcart
Copyright 1968, 2004
I’m riding free, got the highway at my feet,
No place to be and no schedules to meet,
There’s not a thing in the world to tie me down.
The buses pass me by, their destinations on their face,
No names on me Man I’m not going just one place,
I go where I want to be, to any town.
Nothing but my mood to guide me,
I follow the road I like best,
One week I may go to Mexico,
The next I’m headed northwest.
Two wheels below me and open road ahead,
Don’t need much money ‘cause I’m carrying my bed,
I’ll work one day for my bread, then travel on.
Don’t put me down Man I’m doing what I like,
Yes I’m happy when I’m out here on my bike,
I’m seeing the world my own way, come on along.
Nothing but my mood to guide me,
I follow the road I like best,
One week I may go to Ohio,
The next I’m headed southwest.
Ninety miles to Little Rock, my roots and memories,
I’ll pause but new and winding roads are calling me,
My goal’s the ride not the place, I’m riding free.
My goal’s the ride not the place, I’m riding free.
www.cathcart.com
Note: Doug Reynolds Suzuki of Little Rock
is now a very large and successful dealership.
9800 Interstate 30
Little Rock, AR 72209
PH: (501) 562-6229
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