RadioHowie
I Miss Beemerdons!
So, who the hell is Bob Carter?
He's you...he's me...he's just about every guy in here who loves owning and riding motorcycles. When you add 20, 30, or 40 years to whatever age you are.
I met Bob on a whim. Woke up late after staying up late, anguishing over an FJR purchase. (Look HERE to see what I'm talking about). Based on a reply to my original post, I grabbed my mouse and clicked on over to Cycletrader.com.
That's where I met Bob. After trying his home phone # a dozen times without success, Bob finally answered. "Bob Carter...how can I help you?" What a nice greeting. Told him I wanted to take a look at his Feejer. "Come on over...it's a beautiful day for a ride." Suggested a meeting point a few minutes from his house, but 1 1/2 hours away from mine. Suggested I call him when I got there.
So I had a nice ride through Florida cattle country, heading to Sebring, home of the world famous 12 hour race, stopped at the Shell station at 98 and 27 and started calling Bob. Busy, busy, busy, busy. DAMN! Went inside to grab some bottled water. Just about to check out when I see a Silver FJR sitting next to my Rex. Could it be? Sure was.
"Hi Steve, I'm Bob. Glad to meet ya!" with a firm, manly handshake that belied his 70+ years. Gnarled from years of hard work and play, and probably arthritis, Bob shook my hand like an old friend. "Let's head to the house. Wife's on the phone to her sister and you'd probably never get through, so figured I come look for ya."
Followed Bob to his little cottage in the woods where his early '90s K75 Bimmer with 175,000 miles on it was parked, just a few feet away from his '70s vintage R100T with probably a million miles on it. His garage is festooned with dozens and dozens of "Iron Butt" stickers going back decades. Everything is laid out in military precision. Even the jugs of Rotella 10w-50 synthethic stand at attention, waiting to do their owner's bidding.
So I opine "guess Mama said one of these bikes had to go, huh?" "Nope" Bob shot right back "waiting for an '06."
Seemed BMW had lost a customer who bought a new bike every couple of years or so when he had problems with a new R1150RT, and they made the mistake of not covering under their vaunted 36/36 warranty. "Bastards won't ever get any of my money again" Bob practically spit the words out. "That's how I wound up with the Yamaha...twice the bike the RT was at 3/4ths the price. Here, take the key, take her for a drive."
Off I go on Bob's spotless '04, scared to death I'll make some stupid rookie mistake and sully his precious darling. Riding through the Central Florida countryside, my mind wanders from what a great ride Bob's 1300 is to Bob himself. 5 foot 3, if he's lucky...maybe a buck-25 soaking wet...showing every bit of his age from his thinning hair to the age spots on his hands and arms, testament to the hundreds of thousands of sun-soaked miles he's done on two wheels. Do I pass muster? Am I worthy of Bob's FJR?
Half hour later, I'm back at Bob's. We exchange pleasantries, he gets me my 2nd glass of water. "You won't be sorry" Bob adds, "25 thousand positively trouble-free miles. I'll miss her, but not for long" he grins, referring back to the '06 he's already riding in his mind.
Guess I won't be waiting for an '06 along with Bob. I'll be riding his '04 instead, complete with the "Lucky Penny" he's epoxied to the gas cap key flap. I think I'll leave it there.
To remind me of Bob.
He's you...he's me...he's just about every guy in here who loves owning and riding motorcycles. When you add 20, 30, or 40 years to whatever age you are.
I met Bob on a whim. Woke up late after staying up late, anguishing over an FJR purchase. (Look HERE to see what I'm talking about). Based on a reply to my original post, I grabbed my mouse and clicked on over to Cycletrader.com.
That's where I met Bob. After trying his home phone # a dozen times without success, Bob finally answered. "Bob Carter...how can I help you?" What a nice greeting. Told him I wanted to take a look at his Feejer. "Come on over...it's a beautiful day for a ride." Suggested a meeting point a few minutes from his house, but 1 1/2 hours away from mine. Suggested I call him when I got there.
So I had a nice ride through Florida cattle country, heading to Sebring, home of the world famous 12 hour race, stopped at the Shell station at 98 and 27 and started calling Bob. Busy, busy, busy, busy. DAMN! Went inside to grab some bottled water. Just about to check out when I see a Silver FJR sitting next to my Rex. Could it be? Sure was.
"Hi Steve, I'm Bob. Glad to meet ya!" with a firm, manly handshake that belied his 70+ years. Gnarled from years of hard work and play, and probably arthritis, Bob shook my hand like an old friend. "Let's head to the house. Wife's on the phone to her sister and you'd probably never get through, so figured I come look for ya."
Followed Bob to his little cottage in the woods where his early '90s K75 Bimmer with 175,000 miles on it was parked, just a few feet away from his '70s vintage R100T with probably a million miles on it. His garage is festooned with dozens and dozens of "Iron Butt" stickers going back decades. Everything is laid out in military precision. Even the jugs of Rotella 10w-50 synthethic stand at attention, waiting to do their owner's bidding.
So I opine "guess Mama said one of these bikes had to go, huh?" "Nope" Bob shot right back "waiting for an '06."
Seemed BMW had lost a customer who bought a new bike every couple of years or so when he had problems with a new R1150RT, and they made the mistake of not covering under their vaunted 36/36 warranty. "Bastards won't ever get any of my money again" Bob practically spit the words out. "That's how I wound up with the Yamaha...twice the bike the RT was at 3/4ths the price. Here, take the key, take her for a drive."
Off I go on Bob's spotless '04, scared to death I'll make some stupid rookie mistake and sully his precious darling. Riding through the Central Florida countryside, my mind wanders from what a great ride Bob's 1300 is to Bob himself. 5 foot 3, if he's lucky...maybe a buck-25 soaking wet...showing every bit of his age from his thinning hair to the age spots on his hands and arms, testament to the hundreds of thousands of sun-soaked miles he's done on two wheels. Do I pass muster? Am I worthy of Bob's FJR?
Half hour later, I'm back at Bob's. We exchange pleasantries, he gets me my 2nd glass of water. "You won't be sorry" Bob adds, "25 thousand positively trouble-free miles. I'll miss her, but not for long" he grins, referring back to the '06 he's already riding in his mind.
Guess I won't be waiting for an '06 along with Bob. I'll be riding his '04 instead, complete with the "Lucky Penny" he's epoxied to the gas cap key flap. I think I'll leave it there.
To remind me of Bob.
