Mary and Geza
Collecting Motorcycles Is An Incurable Disease
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1981 Yamaha 550 Maxim
1982 BMW R100RT
The Silver BMW
2000 Triumph Sprint ST
1994 BMW K1100LT red
"Big Blue"
2001 Kawasaki Vulcan 500
2004 Suzuki Burgman 400
The Second Rig
1982 BMW R100RS
"Thunder"
"Lightning"
Our Motorcycles
My friend, Steve, was coming up for a visit from Pennsylvania.  He used to be our neighbor and has been coming up once a year for a few years now.  This time, I told him on the phone, we're going to ride with another friend, Harold, who has a scooter.  Steve told me later that he was muttering to himself: "Why do we have to do this?  I want to go faster than 35 miles an hour!"

He arrived at the house and the next day the two of us rode over to Harold's house in St. Johnsville, NY.  The two of them hit it off right away (I knew they would) and after they were talked out, we mounted our rides: Harold on his Suzuki Burgman 400, Steve on his classic 750 Honda and me on "Big Blue".  It's worth mentioning that I had not ridden with Harold up to this point.

Harold was in the lead and all I saw was the back-end of the scooter squat down and then he was gone.  Steve told me later that he was laughing out loud in his helmet trying to keep up with Harold.  I, too, was quite surprised and it turned out to be a very pleasant ride.  We came to a gravel rod, Harold just kept going.  He wanted to turn around in the middle of a two-lane road, so he did.  I was sweating bullets under my helmet trying to tippy-toe Big Blue around and had to back it up once.

I was so impressed with that scooter I bought one not too much later and have enjoyed it ever since.  Thanks, Harold!

We don't ride it as much as we should but I always enjoy it when I do. My favorite day on it was the day Don and Catherine and I were riding in the Adirondacks at a rather spirited pace. We came upon a bunch of Harley riders, who were riding slower than we. In an annoying style every time a passing opportunity arose, they would speed up, making passing impossible. After a few times of doing this, a long enough straight-away presented itself and we blew by them all in a fell swoop. I was doing over 70 by the time the last guy fell victim to the big powerplant in the Bergman and I was hooting and hollering in my helmet for joy, hoping they saw and knew what just passed them. Coincidentally, I checked my mileage on that trip and even with the fast pace I averaged 68 MPG.
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Welcome
About Us
Mary's Bio
Our Trips
Geza's Bio
Our Life
Pictures from Our Trips
Pictures from Hungary
Our Motorcycles
Minutiae
Misc. Photos