Mirror of /pweb.jps.net/~snowbum/whitebeard.htm

This is a mirror of http://pweb.jps.net/~snowbum/whitebeard.htm.
It is provided here by cdegroot.com to increase availability of the original site. This mirror is updated daily so should be up-to-date at all times.

This is a re-write of my published story about my R60/2. Originally published in "Motorcycle Owners News" (now "BMW-ON"), in September 1987. For the record, I am a Life Member of BMWMOA, #17058.

Whitebeard, a factory original white 1957 R60 with European style sprung solo saddle, was purchased by me in essentially new condition, with only a very low amount of miles accumulated. The original accumulator, sporting much gray hair attesting to many years of his own fun and games, had last owned, many decades previously, an ancient (to me) Crocker motorcycle, and he decided that the R60 and the Los Angeles traffic was too much for him. Contributing to that situation, and the very low selling price, was a badly damaged rear transmission cover, caused by failure to tighten the universal joint bolts (and they had the failure prone split lock type washers). I fixed the cover by heliarc welding and minor machining, and never had another problem with it.

Prior to relieving this gentleman of his R60, I had owned an early 30's Indian, and a 1951 BSA single, and had ridden many different bikes. At the time I acquired Whitebeard, I was trying to find some sort of part time job, so as to finance some college time. With Whitebeard equipped with some truly ugly, but functional boxes I had made up (VERY crude versions of the modern ones made by Jesse....all this in the 1950's!!), I was now able to obtain a 'shagging' job.

"Shagging" meant that I picked up blueprints (yep, those smelly old time things...) at a Hollywood office that made them, and went immediately to the Hollywood freeway, where I proceeded to put on a lot of miles, delivering them. To this day, the smell of blueprints in the making at that office have remained in my memory. The deliveries took several hours. It was not unusual to do 600 miles weekly, often more. Most of it was at nearly top speed for the R60, something around 75 mph or so, which was FAST for the freeways back then. Nearly five years of this, on an off, and only two traffic citations for speeding. It is still my belief that the white bike color and my clean appearance, accounted for such few citations, as my co-workers, riding outlaw looking Harleys, received many traffic tickets, at the same speeds, or even slower. Adding to the mileage was the weekend ride and maybe beer bust (had not evolved into full-blown early style rallies yet, and Honda had not yet started its 'you meet the nicest people on a Honda').

I had few problems with the R60. I was a VERY regular customer for my dealer's tire stock. The Earles front fork (my R60 was thusly equipped), and the separately sprung and very large, plush solo saddle, that was on this particular R60, made for a plush ride, and the bike was very quiet. While true that the R60 was a terrible handling machine compared to today's Japanese crotch-rockets, it handled quite well enough, and had many sterling attributes, the first of which was comfort. The second of which was utopia as far as reliability was concerned...at least in those years, compared to other bikes. The battery was of little importance, as it was not needed for starting, as it had a magneto and a kick starter. Tuneups took little time. No clutch or spline problems, easy tire servicing. The main seals lasted, so did valve jobs. Seeing as how the R60 was transportation and livelihood, I totally rebuilt it every 100,000 miles. This meant a total engine teardown, as well as disassembling and working on wheels, transmission, rear drive, etc. Of course, some serious maintenance was done along the way to this 100K. The removal of the crankshaft for slinger cleaning (no oil filter) was the primary item here. It was usually surprising to find out what was NOT worn out, at the 100K. The bike was cleaned, waxed, and lubed weekly, the oil changed at least monthly, and wheel bearings and other such items were serviced regularly. So many tires were used in such a short period of time that I had modified the wheel hubs for easier servicing. Tires did NOT last like today's tires do.

At this point in this saga, it is necessary to change names and details a wee bit, to protect the innocent....and the actually very guilty.

Whitebeard was sold after the /5 became available. The sale was to a close friend named 'Jerry', who was a long time admirer of the bike. Whitebeard had 274,087 miles. Jerry was a True California Character. His burning desire was to own the White Beast, ride it to the tip of Baja California, no doubt consuming vast quantities of tequila and Acapulco Gold during this jaunt. This trip was fully planned for, over many beers one evening. Having heard many stories about riding at night south of the border, and being a fool, Jerry planned to do at least some of his riding at night. Thus a new battery was fitted, the electrics gone over, and Jerry asked me to modify the bike for large 'driving lights'. The next few days found me making up bracketry to mount a pair of Harley headlights...when Jerry showed up with two Lucas FlameThrowers, in 12 volts, and...I think...100 watts each. It was now time for more beers and discussion. The conversation drifted between 6 versus 12 volts, sidecars to hold batteries, conversion to 12 volts, etc. After enough beer (of course!!), I stupidly agreed to mount any and all lights and electrical equipment that Jerry thought he would need.

Some beers later I found out that this would include a vacuum tube HAM radio station, together with its power robbing dynamotor power supply. Jerry agreed to pay handsomely for all this work. It was no problem to temporarily stop shagging, and work on the R60 for Jerry. Being a minor machinist at heart, and having access to all sorts of machine shop equipment (Hughes Aircraft Co.), I adapted a Leece Neville alternator of the type used on Highway Patrol cars. This was 12 volts. I had to convert the bikes lights. The bikes generating system would not be powerful enough, even if converted to 12 volts, hence the Leece Neville unit. With the stock alternator gone, I had plenty of room in the area for my own modifications to some other components in that area.
The battery box was heavily modified, and a small car battery fitted. With access at Hughes, I made parts of stainless steel where I could, and made a new wiring loom as appropriate, and then had the Hughes wire looming machine make it all look pretty. This was truly an overkill installation. The alternator drive and mount was relatively simple, but looked ugly, as all outside belt driven conversions on airheads do. The machine was wired using very heavy duty copper-silver aircraft wire (thanks to Uncle Sam and Hughes). The suspension was modified as well. I had so much fun doing this, as well as working part time for the local BMW bike dealer, that I only went back to shagging for a short while, before I quit, and opened my own part time engineering business.

This R60 was topped off by a Heinrich 9 gallon tank and Heinrich hand made aluminum fairing. Very pretty items. I remember Jerry paying half the National Debt for those two pieces. Of course, Jerry had NO problem with money at that time...he was into the California Friend to Everyone business....that is, he imported vast quantities of Mexican and South American marijuana.

One Monday morning, Jerry was ready, he thought, and over at my house, Whitebeard was certainly ready. Jerry arrives, loads up Whitebeard....it must have all weighed 500 or 600 pounds. Jerry leaves, planning on meandering down through Baja California. Baja and Jerry had the same sort of reputation. Jerry, and the R60, would then take the ferry to Mazatlan.

UNfortunately, the first section of the trip was cut short after about 50 feet, when Jerry dumps the R60, just past the end of my driveway, sliding into my "always grumping about Bob and his noisy motorcycling friends" neighbor....well, not the neighbor himself, it was the neighbor's 3 week old Cadillac. The Cadillac now sported some nice new scratches with a dent in the driver's door and a broken side mirror. Attesting to this new status, was my neighbor, who at the time was showing it off, from the driver's seat, to his brother. Back goes the R60 into my garage-shop for a repair to a minor broken part....neighbor following...brother following...loud words....cussing...neighbor's wife gets into the act...night shift policeman who lives on other side and is trying to sleep...opens his window to check on the action...and...amid all the screaming, cussing, and general fun, Jerry's girlfriend shows up.

SHE wants to know only ONE thing...Where's the dual seat...and why no room for HER. Turns out she did not even know that Jerry was planning on leaving on this trip. Meanwhile, I have escaped into my kitchen, where I follow the action sneakily, and where my 6-pack of California Valium has and is, being rapidly depleted, in minutes, to a 4-pack.

With neighbor and fellow groupies eventually satisfied that I am going back to College, full time, that Jerry is leaving the U.S., and that Jerry's insurance will pay, things calm down, and Jerry decides to leave Wednesday morning. I remember Wednesday morning very well, because I was showing off, for my girlfriend, on Tuesday, on one of my bikes, and I slid, on my thumb (mostly), for maybe 40 feet, after trying a very dirt-riding-like maneuver, through an unseen (if you saw my girlfriend, and how dressed, you'd realize why) stack of slippery leaves, in front of the neighbor's house (of course!). This was on the same old BSA 500 thumper (B33) that I pulled the SAME sort of stunt, with the SAME results, in front of HER house, a long time later!

The thumb was still bleeding, when Jerry came by on Tuesday. The R60 was actually done by then. It isn't easy doing mechanical work without a thumb. Jerry said he couldn't stand the sight of blood, and, last night, why did he ever do something stupid like proposing to his girl (wine), and she was coming over, and he wanted to leave, NOW!!...and make Tecaté by dark...ETC. Jerry takes off on the R60 after paying me off.

Minutes later, Jerry's affianced drops by. "Gee, honey, yeah, I did see Jerry, he's out riding the bike, and, no, I don't know exactly when he will be back...I'll tell him you dropped by...and, hey, congratulations....".

A wee bit later the BSA was in my folks garage with the rest of my bikes. I still had a bandaged and painful thumb. I took my Black Shadow, with a sleeping bag and tarp, and caught up with Jerry, after a tiring days ride of....about 3 miles...as I saw the R60 outside a local tavern he frequents. I am smart enough to drink ginger ale. Awhile later, we are off for the border. This took 2 or 3 days, as we stopped to 'party' along the way, upon meeting some friends.

It is now Saturday morning, after a thorough checkout of the manufacturing methods and quality of the product at the Cerveza Tecaté facility, and we meet up with Donny (Vesco), at the old abandoned airstrip, near the even older, abandoned, leprosarium, outside Tecaté. Donny is having fun on the tire-marked 'course'. I decide to play a bit, with the Vincent. I am running Avon GreenSpot tires, a race tire (yes, I used them for much of my street riding, as I got them free from a sponsor). I have my own fun. One of fun things I did was to go over one of the obstacles, rather than properly around them. This creates much belly laughing by the lookies. After awhile, Jerry heads south, and I head North.

The trip back was on a favorite road, just then occupied only by myself....and a CHP officer who is eagerly anticipating catching up with me...some such thing I guess...., as I rode by his Chrysler 300D at a quite brisk pace. He loses me, or I lose him, as I take off across the desert....at warp 12.

Back in Los Angeles, after a considerably shorter time than it took to get to Tecaté, I decide that an advanced degree, settling down, getting married, and increasing my stable of motorcycles and sports cars, are all great ideas. I did not do all that at the same time...putting marriage off for quite awhile. I was well into this planned program when I noticed that many of my older (age 21-1/2) friends were getting drafted. I mistakenly decided to, at the prompting of friend Bucky, and his Marine Colonel father, take my life into my own hands, and join the Marines. I gave up motorcycles...for 3 months actually. I even had a French Poopette ( a type of scooter) on Base...and drove it after hours into an unmentionable field facility in the wee hours...quite a mess to clean us both, hell of a smell too.

After my initial servicing of the Service, I found the pleasures of the perks that go with climbing the Corporate ladder. Yep, I was in the Service, AND in Civvy life at the same time! The motorcycle stable thinned out somewhat, but was left was always interesting. I did marry. I raced sports cars and bikes, including my Vincent(s) and Norton Manx(s). I drove to work in a Porsche RS550-1500. Yes, I really was in the Service, and in Civilian employment, at the same time. Don't ask. I was really into R75/5 bikes too. More and more. I raced and set a record at Bonneville, on the day before my birthday in 1971, on the Norton/Vincent hybrid that I built. My Boss, and his Partner, the owners of Linear Corporation (I was the Chief Engineer) were my Pit Crew Members. I was doing 'lotsa fun things'.

Just after the 70's began, I started to burn out on the above Corporate Engineering life, and L.A. Lifestyle. I quit my well-perked job as Chief Engineer with Linear Corporation, and did some odd consulting, had been divorced awhile, and burned out some more. I gave up L.A. and moved to beautiful Lake Tahoe, where my lifestyle became far more laid-back. I hunted, fished, hiked, etc. I even learned how to ski on snow. I mostly stored my bikes in the Winter. I did acquaint myself with serious mountain roads carving. Eventually the Service and I parted company. It was a fair deal...I had a Pension to look forward to, and they got rid of me. I started several businesses, and even started doing custom BMW airhead work...again.

In early 1985 I decided that my R75/5 was getting long in the tooth, and it was time for a brand new BMW. After all, I needed a newer fashion statement.   I wish I'd kept the /5!
     I made the Sacramento dealer (Capitol Cycles) a bit nervous as I tried out his new K100RS demonstrator, along the river road. I did not like it. The store owner had TWO identical, unsold, late 1983 R100RT bikes on the floor.   I found out, while outside shmoozing with someone whilst eating lunch nearby, that the owner was going to jail soon, something about a trunk load of pot, and that I might be able to make QUITE a deal. So it was that I went back to the dealership, not just to look at the 1983 R100RT's...but to chat a bit more seriously. While chatting, I noticed a strange weird type looking at my R75/5. There was NO sign on it offering it for sale. He came in, asked about it, and we made a deal on the spot; but he would pick the bike up at my place at Tahoe in a week or two. He even paid me, most of the $, in cash...right there at the dealership...I wrote him a 'receipt' on a NAPKIN.   I am NOT KIDDING!
    I now needed a bike, as the purchaser of the /5 was coming to Tahoe soon to get it. I made a deal for BOTH of the new RT's, and purchased them at well (WAY well) under dealer cost. Never quite understood all that, but I THINK they were under a flooring situation, and since he was going out of business, he was screwing either BMW or the flooring company, or both. I rode one RT, and messed a lot with the other. Oak and I had long conversations.  I helped Oak get gray hair with my phone conversations (no E-mail back then). Oak and I became pretty good friends.

Meanwhile, I stayed in touch with Jerry over some years. Jerry did not do ANY of the same things I did. Jerry was having a lot of fun staying up with his own image. He was riding all over Central and South America, making deals of some sort or other. Occasionally I would hear from him when he needed some sort of advice on maintenance or repairs. The R60 is still running just fine. Well, it was. I have not heard from Jerry in awhile now.

Jerry telephoned me once from who knows where, and told me that he is in a bit of trouble, and is leaving with the bike on a ship. The rest of the next wee bit of this story is not totally clear in my mind, not having all the exact details, but I suspect that Jerry somehow got onto some sort of U.S. military base, someplace, WAY down south. As near as I understand it, Jerry was earning money at his usual importing business, and had added the procurement of American whiskies. Apparently, during one sea trip, Whitebeard fell overboard, and was rescued by the military, was taken apart and totally rebuilt, and was put back on the road in good condition. My understanding is that somehow the American Taxpayers paid for all this. I suspect that Jerry was greasing many palms with herbal, if not liquid, products. According to Jerry, he had no problems at all getting parts AIRLIFTED by OUR military, from Germany. I also understand that Jerry was running Whitebeard on synthetic CDP turbine oils and aviation fuels.

September, 1986: Jerry is in New Zealand, if I remember correctly, with Whitebeard, and is shortly leaving to visit friends in OZ. OZ seems to fit Jerry. In early 1987 Jerry rides back up through South America, to visit me, at Lake Tahoe. He mentions as how maybe I could 'put him up for awhile', and WE could have lots of fun repainting Whitebeard, which now is aging almost gracefully with something over 400K, maybe it was over 500K miles on it. I explain that his projected 'late 1987' arrival is likely to mean the COLD time of Winter here, surely he has had enough of cold, and my wife and I like being warm together, not being on both sides of a motorcycle in preparation for painting in a cold garage, and out lifestyles are NOT conducive to long term houseguests....but...but...why not have the machine painted at this place I know of in L.A., which will do a mother of pearl porcelainize job...and out of my mouth, oooops...comes the additional words "and we'll go to Escanaba for the MOA National together" .

Jerry thought THAT was a great idea, and so it was planned, and Jerry was back in the U.S. earlier than he had originally planned. Yes the bike was painted in Los Angeles. Yes we had him as a houseguest for a few days, before we left, riding side by side, going east, on Highway 80, towards, we hoped, Escanaba.

I lost track of Jerry after 1989. In the original website version of this story, I had said: "In 1991, a bit after I returned from a wee stint back in Government Employment, I heard from his sister. Jerry had gotten lung cancer. Since he never smoked tobacco, you can draw your own conclusions. He only lived a short while after the diagnosis. He left me a few things. One of which was the R60. But, I never actually saw it. I gave Jerry's sister the name of a few folks I knew, and she sold it to one of them. I still have the other wee items he left me, motorcycling memorabilia, and some flyers and other items from my racing days." Someone in October 2006 actually read this story, and asked me if I had heard from Jerry...and I facetiously responded that I had "not heard from him in some years". Jerry's sister lives in Boston, and I had not talked to her in a very long time. On a whim, I called her. She informed me that Jerry had NOT gotten lung cancer and died. The truth was, and is, that he is in a Federal jail someplace, for the second time, this time for a LONG stretch, for selling drugs.