Back in the day, I had an old H-D 45 cubic incher with the suicide foot clutch on the left for about a year. You know, the ones where you had to carry newspapers on the sissy bar & stop every 50 miles to tighten up nuts & bolts. Among the cognoscenti, however, there is only one motorcycle in the world. One biker friend even named his son after them. Richard Thompson wrote this song about them that's one of my favorites. It is, of course, The 1952 Vincent Black Lightning.
I did make a slight modification to the bike. I installed an electric pump & air horns. Nothing stops the unseeing driver from fading into your lane quite like the vision of a semi in his head.
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