A Lifetime of Experience - Dare to Dream

[UberGoober]

My neighbor growing up, Wayne Storwick, was a quiet, gentle guy who loved machines. Growing up as a car nut myself, it was hard to miss the fact that the Storwicks had almost every kind of cool machine you could imagine - motorcycles, trucks, cars, boats, tractors, hay bailers even a couple of bulldozers and a ramp truck. If it rolled, floated, or crawled, Wayne probably owned it at one time or another.

For a guy with an enduring love of machines, however, Wayne had one fault – he never really took especially good care of anything and as a result almost every machine he owned died within a few years of purchase. That was no problem for Wayne, however, with almost 60 acres of forest behind his house, he simply got some new machine and dragged the old one out to its final resting place in the woods. Once there, nature and time took care of the rest.

From a kid’s perspective, this was great. Since Wayne’s kids were just about my own age I was able to spend most of my youth out in that same forest and everything that Wayne put to rest out there soon found a new life as a plaything for every kid in the entire neighborhood. We played pirates from the deck of the boats, had our first behind the wheel experience in the abandoned 1958 Chevrolet or the big pink ramp truck and re-enacted every scene from the Fighting Sea-Bees from the seat of the bulldozer. It was always a lot of fun to play in the woods, and unless we got too carried away – like the time another neighbor, Mike, busted out the back window of the ’58 – Wayne never seemed to mind what we did.

Like everyone who loves machines, sooner or later Wayne brought home a motorcycle. It was beautiful black mid 60s Honda 300 Dream with low slung chrome exhaust pipes, hard plastic saddle bags and a plastic windshield. It was the first real bike I was ever around and the effect was mesmerizing on every kid in the neighborhood. It drew us in from the forest like moths to a flame and we spent hours admiring it from a safe distance as it sat on the car port.

Wayne was obviously very proud of the Honda. He doted on that bike, bought various doo-dads from the back of the JC Whitney Catalog to enhance his riding experience and polished it religiously. Unlike so many machines that had preceded it, Wayne’s interest in the bike did not wane over time and his future as a motorcyclist seemed assured – at least until he had his big crash.

Since I was only about 10, I’m sure I never got the full story on just what exactly happened. As I recall Wayne’s crash was caused by a slick road in the latter part of autumn. It may have been wet leaves, pine needles or something else, but whatever the cause Wayne’s spill was not enough to do any great damage to the bike. It did scare him enough, however, that when he brought the bike home, he parked it under the eaves around the back of the house and never threw a leg over it again.

Photo - a Honda 300 Dream very similar to what Wayne Storwick had.

[acalliste]

I poured a gallon of premix in my CT70 when I was too young to know better. My grandpa had to clean it out, but no problems with it afterward.

[Süsser Tod]

Last Sunday I started my old Kan-o-tuna 750 (1991), it had been parked for the last 4 years or so, can't remember exactly when it was the last time I rode it.

I tried to do the same thing that was done to the C300, even poured carb cleaner (spray) directly into the fuel lines, until I was sure the carb bowls were full of it... Nope, it refused to start.

Had to pull the carbs out and clean the hell out of them... Also had to drain the tank, and don't think that the stuff that came out of it could be called gasoline, it smelled more like paint thinner.

After I cleaned the carbs, put them back in and then tried to start it. Even without tightening the carbs to the intake, the bike fired right up at the first push of the button...

And now that I think of it, I bypassed the clutch switch but never got to put it back to how it was, LOL.