Here's the 'ol girl when I first brought her home. My youngster, A.J. (age 4) was actually the first to hop on the bike when I got it home. I think we have a future young rider.
This next one was the day I first got her to fire. You can pretty much see the grin splitting my face. Not so much because I was excited (ok, yeah, that did have something to do with it) but more so because I was able to breathe some life into an old piece of history.
A bit of history is something we should all hold dear-- especially when that bit is a classic motorcycle.