When my soon to be father-in-law, Jonathan, had initially planned out his trip to NYC in July, he initially came up with an itinerary of things he wanted to see and do while in town. His list ranged from going to the Statue of Liberty to visiting museums and taking in a Broadway play. However, it didn't take long for all of this to get thrown out the window as it quickly turned into a week of hanging out in the garage and checking out my bikes. The highlight of the "tour" seemed to be my 1958 BSA A10 Cafe Racer.
So, it was of little surprise that Jonathan set out to find a classic British cafe racer immediately upon returning home to New Zealand. Despite not having actually ridden a motorcycle in over thirty years and thus unable to test ride any bike, Jonathan ran out and bought the first one he could get his hands on: A 1973 Norton Commando in cafe trim. I'd like to note this was done under protest as I suggested Jonathan first purchase a cheap Honda to reacquaint himself with riding. But being the man of excellent taste that he is, the bike had to be British.
Like almost all British bikes, included in the sale of the Commando was a laundry list of repairs which needed to be completed in order to make the bike rideable. Oddly enough, Jonathan's newly formed snobbery towards Triumphs and BSA's seemed to vanish right about the time his bike went off to the shop. Note: this overwhelming delusion is a symptom of a sad and terrible illness that seems to inexplicably afflict most Norton owners.
...and so, with the stubborn determination that Kiwis are known for (as illustrated in the film "The World's Fastest Indian" AKA my main source of information about the people of New Zealand), like Burt Munro before him, Jonathan persevered.
My only conditions for having any part of Jonathan's renewed interest in bikes were that he 1) sign up for a rider's safety course and 2) purchase modern protective riding gear. I figured indirectly causing injury or worse to your new father-in-law is not a good look no matter how you approach it. As you can see from the track day photo, Jonathan kept his word. (He DID take some liberties with the boots, though. :::Shudder:::)
So, congratulations on getting back on the horse, Jonathan! Ride safe and keep the rubber side down...or I'm sure to die a slow horrible death at the hands of my wife and mother-in-law. (WHOM, MIGHT I ADD, I LOVE VERY MUCH.)
