Southwest by Two-Stroke

By Brian Franzen, Michael Newlun and Jeffrey Ross

Our 1973 motorcycle ride took us from Beatrice, Nebraska, to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico, Albuquerque, Phoenix, San Diego, LA, Vacaville, Lake Tahoe, Denver, and then back to Nebraska. We were teenagers, and we had relatives, friends, acquaintances, and girlfriends to see all along the journey. Some nights we camped out, others we stayed in a friend’s travel trailer, and some nights we enjoyed regular beds and access to a swimming pool.

Each of us rode a 350cc two-stroke motorcycles on the 3500-mile trip. We had no cell phones, roadside assistance insurance coverage, custom ear plugs, or sound systems.

The early 70’s was different than the 60’s, but not that much different. The attraction of the open road and the Pacific Ocean was very powerful. None of us were worried about breaking down or the costs of the trip. We had to go see western America. And we did.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
• Release date: Nov 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781624204746

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Southwest by-Two Stroke

Riding Yamaha 350s to California

Brian Franzen, Mike Newlun and Jeffrey Ross

Afterword by

Doyle Ross

Published by Rogue Phoenix Press, LLP for Smashwords

Copyright © 2019

ISBN: 978-1-62420-474-6

Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, LLP. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People, locations, and business establishments, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Team Black Rock and their friend Judy in Vacaville California June 1973

Dedication

To Those Who Have Ridden with Us

Preface

"Congratulations. You are now the owner of a new Yamaha R5C. The R5C is a high-performance motorcycle manufactured by the leading manufacturer of motorcycles in Japan.

The R5C, the newest and top of the Yamaha line, is designed for competition and high-speed road use. It features a rugged, powerful two-stroke twin cylinder engine and Autolube, the revolutionary lubricating system developed by the Yamaha Technical Research Laboratory and proven in all Yamaha models.

This manual explains some of the steps necessary for the operation and care of your new motorcycle. Please read it carefully to become thoroughly familiar with all the features and advantages built into your R5C" (1972 R5C Owner’s Manual, courtesy Yamaha Motor Co., LTD, pub 278 28199-11).

Two Lane Highway

By Pure Prairie League (1975)

Soon it will be time to go

I don't want to leave, I guess you know

Maybe something new will come up

And I can come home for just a few more days

Get off this two lane highway

Is going my way, moving fast

Two lane highway

Is taking me home, home at last

You don't want me sleeping in

You turn around, I'm back again

I guess this time I'm really gone

But it don't seem right, I've been up all night

On this two lane highway

Is going my way, moving fast

Two lane highway

Is taking me home, home at last

Two lane highway

Is going my way, moving fast

Two lane highway

Is taking me home, home at last

Two lane highway

Going my way, moving fast

Two lane highway

Taking me home, home at last

Is taking me home, home at last

Oh, is taking me home, home at last

(Perhaps the best song EVER!)

I

Prelude

Prelude—Jeff

Three of us took a long motorcycle trip during early summer in 1973. Brian Franzen and I both had 1972 orange and black Yamaha 350 R5Cs. They were standard except for a luggage rack or small bar behind the seat. Brian had fabricated some highway pegs for cruising comfort. Mike Newlun was set to roll on a purple and white chopped 1970 R5 350. The bike had ten-inch fork extensions, Z handlebars, and a cool sissy bar.

A 1972 R5C in standard form.

Mike and his chopped 1970 R5A in Woodland Hills, California.

In the summer of 1973, I had just finished my freshman year at York College, and I was living at home. Brian had attended Nebraska Technical College in Milford the past six months, and he was working that summer for a bee keeper, Roger Bailey, out of McCool Junction, Nebraska. Mike was located down in Beatrice, living with our friend Dennis Osborne on 4th Street (Mike lives on 4th Street to this day.)

We left on our trip on June 15, 1973 and returned to Nebraska July 4th weekend. Or at least Brian and I did. Mike came back on July 2nd, but that’s another story to be told later. Several bizarre incidents happened that spring which could have caused us to cancel or at least delay the trip. As I indicated earlier, I was attending college, worked a little bit for Roger Bailey the bee keeper, and I also worked as a carry-out at the Grand Central Super Value Grocery Store.

Sometime in late March or early April, at night, I was riding my Yamaha 350 home from the grocery story about 9:15 pm. I rounded the curve on Highway 81 as it wandered north through downtown York, dipped down to go through the underpass, and then slammed on the brakes and dumped my cycle to avoid hitting a car that was stopped in the roadway. To this day, I do not know why the AMC Gremlin was stopped at the bottom of the underpass.

The result is that I broke several small bones in my left foot. I wore a cast for about six weeks and hobbled on crutches around school till the semester concluded. Some of the female students felt sorry for me and carried my books occasionally. The professors probably thought I was out of my mind for riding a motorcycle. Mike has a memory of one of my crutches going out the window of his 1967 orange fastback Mustang as he was making a left turn. He says I laughed like crazy.

It never occurred to me to postpone or cancel the trip.

The damage to my motorcycle was minimal: a broken turn signal cover, a bent clutch lever, and a slightly-bent metal foot peg stub. (The foot peg contacted the pavement after breaking my foot!). That bike damage was all easily repaired by my good friends Jerry and Charlie at iconic Hurlbut’s Cycle north of York. But I had to shift with my heel, rather than with the top of my foot like normal, for a while, once I got back on my machine. The foot was tender for most of the trip. Perhaps I was a little slower, a little more cautious. Maybe not. Seems like I pushed to get the cast removed a little early, so I could go on the bee work trip in late May before our motorcycle ride….

Jeff’s R5 parked in the driveway of his York, Nebraska home.

Prelude—Mike

That summer of ‘73 was transitional for me. I had quit college. My school, Kearney State, was a teacher’s college at the time. But I didn’t want to be an educator. I didn't have a clear vision of my goals. I had enrolled in a Criminal Justice class with juniors and seniors and was asking myself, What am I doing here? That was the end of my college career.

Regarding our cross-country trip, I’m sure my family was worried about me. My grandfather told me they purchased an insurance policy on me to bury me in case I was killed during the trip.

I bought the Yamaha a few weeks before we left. I bought the bike from Ron Sawtell. He lived only a few blocks from Jeff in York, Nebraska. The night I got it, sometime in April 1973, there had been rain throughout the area. I borrowed some white coveralls from Jeff’s dad. Then, I rode the motorcycle back to Beatrice in a light drizzle. The trip was eventful.

Doyle Ross in his ham shack wearing those famous white coveralls in 1958.

When entering the intersection in Dorchester on Highway 6, a driver or rider had to come to stop and turn right. There was a gap in the pavement from one surface to another. Since it was raining and there was a big puddle of water, I couldn't see the bottom of the gap. As I went to make the turn, I discovered the water was deeper than anticipated. Suddenly, the Yamaha slipped out from under me. I managed to place myself under the bike to protect it. I was lying in the puddle, thoroughly soaked, but the bike remained unscathed. I was okay but very cold and wet, so I gathered the bike up and limped into town to see a friend and to dry off and warm up. He wasn't home, so I borrowed his truck to go on to Beatrice. Turned out he was already in Beatrice. I told him what happened, and we returned his truck, and I rode my R5 home, all early the next morning.

Soon after, on a suggestion from Jeff, with only the tools under the seat, I pulled the cylinder heads, cylinders, and pistons, and took them down to the Yamaha dealer, Hurlbut’s Cycle. I asked Charlie Hurlbut to bore them .010 over and to install new pistons and rings. When I inquired how long the process would take, Charlie said, Just a minute. When he returned to