Cathy is a crazy old bat who buzzed around in a souped-up baby buggy all day screaming, "Nobody wants to race me!" Only in LA.
See what I mean.
ECSM organizers don't play god when it comes to motorcycles. If it has two wheels, it (and you) are welcome aboard. This SL70's $3k price tag seemed higher than a giraffe's testicles, but it and the Trail 70 behind it are indicative of the kind of cool pit bikes and playthings you'll see in Torrance every September.
When vintage parts and classic customs span the tarmac as far as the eye can see, you need a hook to attract customers. This was my favorite show stopper: a psychotic Siamese twin riding shotgun on a handsome miniature stallion. It reminded me of a husband-and-wife combo I saw on a 104th Anniversary™ H-D Electrocardioglide® on the 91 east last week.
Heikki Mikkola didn't make an appearance at the swap this weekend, but his motorcycle was there.
Where do you sit? I don't know, so please don't ask. Sit wrong, however, and you might end up with your scrotum in a velocity stack.
When the sun went down, Capt. Morgan waved his sword. That's Bill talking cigars with Oscar and Fredo.
I'm green, so I had to ask Wes White what BSA stands for. He told me, "Broke Something Again." I love British humor…