Receiving the 50-year recognition in Maggie Valley took me by surprise
In 1973 at age 20 I just completed my second chopper. It was a Triumph. My only friend had a Harley and worked at a chrome shop. Most of the other guys who worked there rode Harleys. I spent more on chrome than my bike was worth. A bike show came up and my buddy said I should put my bike in with his and the other guys. I was flattered, I never attended a bike show before. When I arrived, I pushed my bike next to my buddy’s and soon someone stepped up and told me to move my bike away from the Harleys. Needless to say the rejection was felt.
Not long after, on a Saturday morning, I rode the little rejected chopper over to my mother’s house. Mom taught piano and organ, and she just finished with a lesson. The student was a man my mother’s age and a mechanic by trade. His name was Ernie. My mom said, “Ernie has a motorcycle, tell Mike about your motorcycle.” Ernie proceeded to tell me about a stock 1941 big twin flathead. He also told me about a Police Harley he had bought at auction. He repainted, and fixed it all up to sell. Back then when you sold a vehicle you ran an ad in the newspaper. That’s what he did. In his words a long-haired scraggly piece of crap came to look at it, went for a test ride and never came back!
He wanted to sell the Flathead, but there was no way he was going to advertise it in the paper. Now in his eyes I’m sure I looked like a long-haired scraggly piece of crap, just like the guy who stole his bike, except I was his teachers son, and yes, I could come have a look. It was 100% all there and I don’t remember seeing anything but chopped Harleys at the time. I wanted it bad but didn’t have enough money. Ernie told me to come back when I had the money and he would save it for me.
I picked up the bike with my truck, because it hadn’t run in a while, and I didn’t know how to ride it anyway. I drove to several of the Harley guys houses I knew to try and get some help or knowledge, anything to get it going. They all fancied themselves as 1%ers , but in reality they were more like 1/2%ers, and all they wanted to do was get the bike away from me.
Finally, someone told me to call an older guy named Bill Meade. Bill had a huge collection of really cool old bikes. He was so nice, and generous with his time. He taught me how to prep the bike, how to start it, and how to ride it. He even gave me parts while teasing me about my “”new” Harley. Then lastly he said, “You should join the AMCA.” Over the last 50 years, I can truthfully sayt I’ve met my best friends thru AMCA events. When my wife and I married in 2017, people from 13 states attended our wedding and it turned into a three-day road run with 70 bikes.
After the Maggie Valley road run, I sat around with five or six guys talking about the run, and one said we don’t need to go on road runs we can do our own rides. To which I reminded him if it wasn’t for the AMCA I would not know any of them.
So in a way the 1/2%ers who stole Ernies’ bike, and the ones who tried to take advantage of me, led me to the AMCA. Now It’s my turn to emulate Bills’ kindness. I try to share the passion and the knowledge I’ve accumulated over the past fifty years with the young guys I meet.
–Mike
AMCA Member #1149
