Floyd

by Floyd
(Indianapolis, USA)

Hello,
I woke one Monday morning to find the 3/8" log chain which secured my '69 T120R to the maple tree in the back yard had been sliced through with bolt cutters. The chain and tree were still there... the bike wasn't. A local constable advised me to "kiss it goodbye", gave me a case number for the insurance claim, and left. Any Bonneville owner knows you can't "go wit' dat". I wandered around the neighborhood for a coupla hours sniffing around until a neighbor told me that a rather colorful character had moved out only two weeks before. He had a habit of working in his shop/garage odd hours, and was observed pushing a safe in there one night, only to truck it out the next night after forcing it open. "Hmmm...", I said. "Sounds suspicious! Any idea where this dude went?" Well, it seems he left at the request of the sheriff for not paying rent, and moved in with a bunch of fellow "club members" three miles away. "Where, exactly?" "I'll show you the house, but you can't stop with me in the car!" After we drove stealthily past the front door with my neighbor pointing his finger out the passenger window, I got him safely home and returned to the house in question. I parked nearby and walked around the block and down the concrete alley behind. As I approached the property, I noticed that, between the alley and large garage, there was a four-foot strip of cinders; and in those cinders, there were very clear imprints of my non-stock and very recognizable tires... one each. With heart pounding, I made my way to the nearest pay phone and called the authorities. Forty-five minutes later, a local yokel showed up picking his teeth. "Did you see your bike?" "No, but I'm sure it's in there!" "We can't go in on that... is that the garage?" "Yeah, but the door wasn't cracked open before. It must be hot in there." "Follow me", he said as he squeezed through the opening. "Good afternoon... this gentleman seems to think his motorcycle is in here." It's difficult to describe, but the look on that guy's face as he dropped the wrench and backed away from what had once been my machine was priceless! There were stolen bikes and bits in every corner. In fourteen hours' time the fuel tank, oil tank, fenders and side cover had been changed, fresh, ugly paint applied, frame numbers obliterated, and engine numbers ground off. I didn't start recognizing all the little 'personal touches' I had left on the bike until I was less than five feet away! They hauled the bloody bastard off to jail and released my beloved to me on the spot. So when you see my bike # MVIN 321XX IND, It's original with matching numbers... just not the numbers from Meriden.
Floyd ('69 T120R)