I’ve never really thought of myself as a Yamaha guy. Still don’t. In my line of business it’s best to be a registered Independent. But in looking back, for whatever reason, I’ve owned more Yamahas than any other brand.
There was the used HT-1 90, circa 1968, purchased cheap after it failed to clear a ravine in spectacular fashion and ended up with a pretzeled fork rim, tweaked tubes and a crumpled gas tank. We dragged it home from the motivated (not to mention limping) seller, and my father guided my brother and I through the rebuild. We learned a lot about dirt riding from that purple-tanked beauty. A stripped-down AT-1 125 with full knobs and an expansion chamber added to the education (and the elbow scabs). Much later, I had a TY250 trials bike that conspired to make me look oafish at every opportunity.
On the street, my first big bike was a 1977 XS750 Triple, quite the step up from a clapped-out Honda CB350. It was also the first brand-new bike I ever purchased, out the door for the then-staggering sum of $2000 from Yamaha of Fort Worth. I ruled the parking lot at Tarrant County Junior College.
Then I fell in love—twice. After 30,000 miles on the 750, I was literally gobsmacked by a brand-new 1979 RD400F Daytona Special on the showroom floor, shining like a beacon in Yamaha’s international racing colors of white with red stripes. I traded down immediately.
The RD carried me another 30K miles, and then it happened again. All the magazines raved about the Euro-styled Seca 650, which to my eyes looked a mini Laverda Jota. Had to have it, but I also wanted to keep the Daytona. The timely arrival of a girlfriend’s guaranteed student loan check solved the down-payment dilemma. Still got the bike; the lady (repaid) is long gone—sadly the 400F, too.
Other Yamahas came. A Venture V-Four touring bike with California sidecar taught me all kinds of new Stupid Human Tricks. My dog Ned has never forgiven me for selling the rig—but it took up the space of a small car in the garage. I still own the Warrior power-cruiser I purchased after it was disqualified from our 2004 “Sturgis Shootout.” We allowed manufacturers to upgrade from their P&A catalogs for the comparison, but Yamaha took things a little too far, turning the bike over to in-house customizer Jeff Palhegyi for a makeover. Great bike, though, able to keep (lesser-ridden) sportbikes in sight in the twisties and also chuff along with the best V-Twins while avoiding the me-too styling sameness that afflicts too many cruisers.
Anyway, these Yama-memories and more came into focus the other day when I found an unfiled DVD from Yamaha’s 50th-anniversary year, 2005. Some pretty neat footage from back in the day, plus we’ve put together a couple of photo galleries. Enjoy.
