Well; Dad hasn't rode bikes in a few years, though that is his Greeves. We kept it. He does still ride his Q U A D quite a bit. Every day actually. Checks his hog traps.
Dad raced Indians (dirt track) back in the '40s. He would put the racebike in the sidecar of the Harley, and ride to the races. He didn't own a car or truck.
He has a hillclimb trophy from 1947. That one was won on his Harley, and there was only one trophy that day; he is pretty proud of that one. As he tells the story; that hillclimb was the elusive "perfect run" that only comes around (if at all) once or twice in your life. He remembers it like it was this morning.
His last trophy came in '67 (on that very Greeves) for an Enduro in Chipola. Or maybe it was an observed trials in the Spillway. . . .
I ate lunch with dad yesterday, as I do every Wednesday. A few weeks ago he had to brush the sawdust off his pants before going into the restraunt. He had been running his chainsaw.