The Journey

By HOOPER

The world has changed over the years. And most dont ever think about what it must have been like back in the days before cell phones and credit cards. Most can't even imagine what it was like to travel without them. That's what The Journey is all about! A motorcycle trip from Kentucky to Florida back before you had a cell phone to call for help if needed, or a pocket full of credit cards to help pay for it. A time when if it broke, you fixed it, or hoped for
a not her rider to come by and help you fix it! A time when getting into a motel was almost impossible for a motorcycle rider, a time when you were not welcomed in most restaurants, and a time when police did not need a reason to stop you.
The Journey is a story of a trip on a Harley Davidson motorcycle long before there were Harley shops in every town, and when even if you found one, chances of them helping you were not that good anyway. Today, Harley Davidson dealerships are a destination that every rider heads for, with their show rooms full of new Harley's and a shop with several mechanic's ready to repair any problem you might have out on the road. But back in the early 80's, it just wasn't that way. If you rode a Harley, and it broke, you fixed it yourself!
The Journey is also about how we handled different situations that would happen when you were out on the road traveling. How years ago people would still help each other, and would go out of their way to give you a hand sometimes. And how meeting new friends out on the road would lead to a
friendship that would l ast the rest of your life.
Just like traveling today, luck plays a big part on any road trip. And the Journey is the story of a trip that luck played a big part in. Even with all the planning and going over your bike before a trip, things happen sometimes that you don't plan on. And how you handle those times, is what makes a trip an adventure.

I starting writing The Journey as a way to remember how it use to be, and a way for my kids to know what their dad went thru years ago. Something to remember me by long after Im gone. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

I dedicate this story to the memory of all those friends who I met on the road who have passed a way over the years, and to those who are still with me. I've been n blessed all my life with more friends than I deserve.
And to my wife, Sissy, who has stood by me for over 30 years. Without her, no ne of this would have been possible.
Hooper

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491849170

HOOPER

I grew up between two places. Our home in Kentucky, and my grandparents farm in Tennessee. A normal childhood with all the ups and downs that go along with growing up in the 70’s. But the one thing that I remember most was the fact that I always wanted to travel. While most of my friends were always talking about what they wanted to do in life, I wanted to see the world. I didn’t want to see the all pictures or hear the stories of the coast, or the Grand Canyon, or the Florida Keys, I wanted to go see it for myself. And the motorcycle gave me that chance. I didn’t realize that when I started riding that it would take me to all the places that it has. And when I got on a Harley Davidson, it changed a lot more than just what I was riding on. When they say that buying a Harley Davidson motorcycle gets you a lot more than just a motorcycle, they were right! The Harley Davidson motorcycle has opened more doors, gave me a chance to meet more people, and see more places than I ever thought possible. There is no better way to see the country than on 2-wheels. Over the years I’ve traveled over most of this country. And most of it was on the back roads thru small towns. And I’ve found that this truly is a great country. And I hope that this story, the first of several to come, will show that there are still some good people out there that are willing to help a stranger when they need a helping hand. And in my travels, that happened to me more than once. I hope you enjoy reading “The Journey” as much as I did writing it. James Hooper

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© 2014 Hooper. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/21/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4916-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4918-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4917-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014900054

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Contents

About the Author

The Journey Begins

The Journey, Part 2,

About the Author

I grew up between two places. Our home in Kentucky, and my grandparents farm in Tennessee. A normal childhood with all the ups and downs that go along with growing up in the 70’s. But the one thing that I remember most was the fact that I always wanted to travel. While most of my friends were always talking about what they wanted to do in life, I wanted to see the world. I didn’t want to see the all pictures or hear the stories of the coast, or the Grand Canyon, or the Florida Keys, I wanted to go see it for myself. And the motorcycle gave me that chance. I didn’t realize that when I started riding that it would take me to all the places that it has. And when I got on a Harley Davidson, it changed a lot more than just what I was riding on. When they say that buying a Harley Davidson motorcycle gets you a lot more than just a motorcycle, they were right! The Harley Davidson motorcycle has opened more doors, gave me a chance to meet more people, and see more places than I ever thought possible. There is no better way to see the country than on 2-wheels. Over the years I’ve traveled over most of this country. And most of it was on the back roads thru small towns. And I’ve found that this truly is a great country. And I hope that this story, the first of several to come, will show that there are still some good people out there that are willing to help a stranger when they need a helping hand. And in my travels, that happened to me more than once. I hope you enjoy reading The Journey as much as I did writing it. James Hooper

The Journey Begins

I don’t remember how it all got started! Just a few buddies sitting around a fire in an old garage out on the South side of town downing a few beers and talking about our bikes and all the places we wanted to go some day. The same thing we had done for the last several months. There were five of us who were there almost every evening. There were others who would come by from time to time, but we were the solid ones. The old garage was small, only one bike would be inside each night and the others were parked outside in the yard. Whoever’s bike needed the most attention would get the spot inside each night. And that was our normal thing to do each night. Most of the time it was just an oil leak or some kind of adjustment that needed to be done. Every now and then we’d change the oil or plugs on one. Maybe a carburetor adjustment, or maybe even get into an electrical problem. But it was always something. That’s just the way it was back in 1981! Harley Davidson motorcycles were not built that good back then. They leaked oil, parts came loose, and the wiring system was a big problem back then. And even being brand new didn’t make them good! AMF was still in control of Harley Davidson at the time, and putting out a record number of bikes, but they just wasn’t put together that good. But even with that, it didn’t stop me from buying a new one a few months earlier. Anyway, for those of us who chose to ride Harley’s back then, it was just a normal that we had to work on them on a regular basis! Taking one to the dealer to get worked on wasn’t heard of. And even if you could take it to the shop for repairs, no one had the money for that! In today’s world, if you buy a new or used Harley, or anything else for that mater, warranty is always a part of the buying process. But back then, it wasn’t even talked about, I’m not sure if it was even an option. Like the bikes, dealerships were different back in the day also. There wasn’t a dealer in every town like today. And you didn’t have all the accessories and chrome parts or cloths that seem to be everywhere now days. And it sure wasn’t the place to just hang out like most are today!

Just about the only thing a dealer was good for back then other than buying the bike was if you needed a part that you couldn’t make in your own garage.

I remember when I came to Paducah after a stint with Uncle Sam in the Army in September of 1980, and walking into the dealer, Watson’s Harley Davidson. There was no big show room full of bikes and cloths and parts every where you looked. Best I can recall there 4 or 5 bikes on the floor, and a couple of them were used bikes at that. A small rack of t-shirts along the side wall, all black, with the store name on the back and 2 designs on the front. One was the bar and shield, the other just said Harley Davidson! On the other side wall was a table with oil and filters, a small case held a few knife’s and wallets with the chain, and that was it! Like I said earlier, it just wasn’t the place to hang out like they are today!

Anyway, back to the story. I think it was right after New Years, I remember it was cold out side. I had rode over to the garage like I had been doing for the last couple of months. I had met the guys right after I had bought the bike, A 1981 Super Glide, and had started hanging out with them simply because there were not to many other riders in town. We had met at one of the bars in town and quickly hit it off, they rode, so did I, so we had made friends easily. Anyway, I had rode over and parked my bike outside with the others. Inside was one of the guy’s who only came by if he needed some thing done to his bike, and since he always brought beer with him, and that’s all it took to get us to work on a bike, we were always willing to help out. The girls, at least for those of us who had a girl, stayed in the house, just to cold for them in the garage. We had an old pot belly stove in one corner that seemed fine to us but they just never did get use to it. The night had started like every night had, we had drank a few beers and had the bike running good. The guy had left with his bike and we were just sitting around the fire trying to finish off what beer was left, and solving the problems of the world when it started. Some one pulled out a copy of an old Easy Rider’s magazine. And that’s how it began!

I’d heard of this magazine but never seen one. From what I’d heard, it showed bikes, bike parties from all over the country, and naked women! This I had to see. That magazine got passed around all night. In this one was pictures of Sturgis Bike Week in South Dakota, and the one down in Daytona Beach Florida. That magazine, and all the pictures, were the start of what would become The Journey!

Some one said it first, and I’m not sure who, what I am sure of was that all of us agreed! We need to make this happen, go to either Sturgis or Daytona! And from that moment on it was all we could talk about for the rest of the night. It was late when I left the garage that night, may have been early morning. But when I left we all had this crazy ideal that we could make this trip. The thought of riding our bikes all the way to Daytona or Sturgis was both scary and exciting. At the time, none of us had been very far from Paducah on our bikes. Every now and then we’d ride up around the lakes and back. A few trips down to Fulton to a place called Ray’s Lounge to listen to Wolfman And the Pack play. But most of our riding was just around town from one bar to the next was about it. Never really thought of going cross country until now. The gear we all had back then was simple. A leather jacket, normally bought used from one of the many pawn shops around town, and some had jersey gloves bought at the dime store. Rain gear was unheard of. The bikes didn’t have windshields. A few of us had leather throw over saddlebags, and that was about it.

I think every one us spent that night and most of the next day thinking about were to go, Daytona or Sturgis. Sturgis was 1200 miles away, Daytona was 800 miles. Sturgis was in August, and Daytona in March. After a long discussion, it was decided that Sturgis was both to far away, and no one wanted to wait till August. Daytona was in March, less than 3 months away, and offered the ocean, and none of us had seen the beaches. So that would be the place. We were going to go to Daytona Beach Bike week 1981! Now all we had to do was to figure out how to get the bikes ready, and ourselves, and get the money. My job was to figure out the route we would take!

You have to remember that this is 1981! And like I said earlier, and will again from time to time, bikes were different back then, especially Harley’s, and so was the whole country. Hollywood B-Movies were still on everyone’s mind, and they had done a good job at making everyone believe that all motorcycle riders were outlaws, always drinking, on drugs, or just out looking for trouble. There were restaurants that we were not welcomed at, motels would not give you a room if you rode a bike. Come to think of it, almost every place we went, we were watched close and we just knew it was best to get what we needed and move on, quickly! That’s just the way it was, and for those of us who rode, we knew it and lived with it.

As for the bikes, the few there were at the time, things were a little different too! Harley was owned by AMF. Some would say that AMF saved Harley Davidson from going under, and in a way, they did. The trouble was that they were putting out bikes fast to fill the showrooms, and they weren’t put together to good. A brand new bike was in the $3000 range