This is the story of my 1960 Harley Panhead, motorcycle ride
in 1971 and again in 1973 starting in Los Angeles, going up to
Lake Tahoe, over to San Francisco... then on to Yosemite,
Las Vegas and back to Los Angeles .
This ride I did twice with two different friends.

Los Angeles to Lake Tahoe, San Francisco, Yosemite & Las Vegas

My 1960 Harley Panhead I had custom built

First Trip:

I left the valley with my friend who was riding a Harley Sportster and
very quickly we noticed that to ride along side of one another was a bit
of a challenge since my bike was 'built' and would 'cruise' in forth gear,
yet to stay along side of him I'd have to be traveling in third gear.

Never-the-less we made due and went on our way.  The old rememberances
of that trip were, staying in San Francisco in a park (when the Zodiac Killer was
terrorizing San Francisco Bay area) and being petrified by the silence, darkness
and eariness arriving in San Francisco around three a.m..  We chained our
bikes to a tree and pulled our boots off to sleep in a sleeping bag on the
ground for the night.  Around four a.m. being startled by sounds we approached
a passing police car who quickly sped away from us without any assistance given.
I guess from the looks of us and the state of the times, they were also in fear.

Other memories were walking down a dark alley and spotting a blue light over
a sign delineating it as a bar.  We both thought a beer would sound good so we
went inside.  Within five minutes after looking around we noticed that the
patrons were all MEN!  Both of us looked at each other and scrambled out
the door in a flash!  Those were the days of my youth.

One night we went out to a 'all-you-can-eat' chicken restaurant (buffet) and
wearing a jacket with a hole in the pocket, I realized that I could continually
stuff chicken all the way around my jacket so we had food for a few days!

Approximate age, 20 years old at the time.

Buddy's motorcycle, Harley Sportster

Second Trip:

Knowing I was taking a long-distance motorcycle ride I had taken my
bike apart, repaired a few things and had some pieces chrome plated.
One of the problems which wasn't addressed at that time were the fact
that there was no 'hand brake' and the gear shift would not 'down shift'
since the shifter was 'boogied up' and would 'slip' on the shaft...
but we left anyway, figuring I would attend to that on the road.  The only
means of slowing the bike down was a right-side foot brake which in those
days was called a 'suicide brake' since you would have to hold the bike
up at a stop sign with only one foot on the ground (left foot) and attend
to the brake with your right foot.  Never-the-less, off we rode into the sunset.

Upon leaving Los Angeles (the San Fernando Valley) from Van Nuys
we both jumped on the 405 freeway to the 101 freeway North.
Within five minutes my friend was pointing down (I thought towards the
offramp at White Oak Avenue which was a straight-down offramp)
so I proceeded to maneuver the fully-loaded motorcycle to the offramp.
Upon feeling for the foot brake I couldn't find it!  When I looked down
I noticed it 'sparking' on the hard asphlat below!  It seems that when I
put the pedal back on the motorcycle after working on it, I didn't tighten
it enough and now I had NO BRAKES!  Traveling at sixty-five miles per
hour I only saw a line of cars and a red light at the bottom of the offramp.
My first words were 'help me' which was useless as nobody could do
anything to help... the second were curse words.  I could only do one thing,
so I pushed my two feet on the ground like The Flintstones as hard as I
could in order to slow this bike down.  All the while I was aiming for the
two feet to the right side of the long line of vehicles while I careened down
to the corner, around the corner on a red light and up into a gas station
which was directly at the bottom of the offramp.  Shaking, I said to
my buddy, "I'll meet you up there, I have to work on this bike."
He agreed and left, while I attended to matters and left two days later.

While riding somewhere North of Santa Maria I noticed my gas tank was
starting to shake and reached down only to notice that the bolt holding it
to the frame had come loose and had to ride for miles holding the gas
tank on.  But I'm not out-of-the-woods yet!  Within thirty miles the bike
suddenly shut off (obviously due to a short which I could not fix in the
middle of nowhere which was where this calamity happened so I slowly
veered off the roadway, into the brush and sticks.

No one was around for about forty five minutes, then suddenly a truck pulled
up and asked me if I needed help.  I told him that I did and he said, "well, I just
bought the Harley Davidson shop in Santa Maria and if you would like we can
put your bike in the back of my flatbed truck and in the morning fix it."
What luck I thought, "YES, that sounds great!" 

That night I slept in his garage next to the motorcycle, awoke with him to
take me to his new garage and allowed me to use his tools to fix my bike,
no charge.  A wonderful gift of humanity, luck, guardian angels or whatever
you would like to call it but I surely lucked out twice so far on this trip and
it had only just begun.

Upon meeting my friend in San Francisco, we stayed in the least expensive
lodging we could find there which was (if I remember right) $4.00 per night.
I was a kid of twenty-one years old and likely had about $500 to my name
so everything was on budget.  During the days we would visit the park in
San Francisco and entertain ourselves yet, one night while walking towards
our hotel room we were approached by a 'bum' who asked us for some
change.  To which we responded, "sorry, no money" and he left us alone.
The funny thing was that we seemed to be walking the same direction up
the street and upon arriving at our hotel I realized that the bum was staying
in the same hotel we were!  Yep!  One room with one single bed, no bathroom
(bathroom was down the hall for everyone to use.)  So, we were sleeping
in the same hotel as the bum and I had to laugh out loud.

For a final breakdown, was eventually had in San Francisco when my
motorcycle started 'smoking' while idling on one of their hilly streets.
You can imagine how difficult it was to hold the bike up with your left
foot while your right foot was on the brake, on a 65 degree hill!  Well,
it wasn't easy but again, I had a motorcycle breakdown and headed for
the 'only' Harley Davidson shop in San Francisco where they performed
approximately $500 worth of repairs and expected to be paid.  With
that news, I met with the owner in his office and explained to him that
we only brought $500 on this trip and I can't afford to pay it.  Without
recalling exactly how that was resolved, I did get my bike back and
we did proceed to Lake Tahoe albeit worn, poor and tired.

The rest of the trip was exciting and fun but of course not quite as
exciting as the beginning, thankfully.  I was happy after a few months
to return home to a comfortable bed and shower and leave the
experience behind as an amazing journey with very thrilling
memories and the thought that I am surely blessed.

Thanks for listening, Allen