One part of my motorcycle deal was a non-running, clapped-out, candy blue and white CL350K1, rolling on the petrified remains of knobby tires. The other came in 9 boxes stuffed with over 100 labelled plastic bags. This basket case was a K0 that had been disassembled down to the wrist pins and packed with care. Most important in the deal were two books, the Honda Shop Manual and Glenn's Honda Two-Cylinder Repair and Tune-up Guide.

With the perfume of solvents in the air, visions of cruising the California mountain roads, coastal highways, byways and everything in between or beyond were dreamed in super-saturated, full-color detail. Fueled by this euporia, I immersed myself in the boxes of parts. I became one with the scrub brush as I massaged Simple Green, WD-40, Foamy Engine Brite, Berryman's Carburator Cleaner, Marvel's Mystery Oil, Eagle One Aluminum Polish and a tub-o'elbow grease on the bits. I was willingly guided by the contributors to the vjmc.org email list and followed my trusty machinists caliper down the path, until I had finally reassembled the parts into a 1968 Honda CL350K0. My first motorcycle is still ridden frequently on the streets of San Francisco, Bay Area backroads and even carried me on a trouble-free ride to the Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Show and Swapmeet in Squaw Valley, CA, August 1998.

During the trip to and from Squaw Valley, a major design flaw in the Scrambler design was confirmed for me. Probably not a big surprise to my Motorcycle Safety instructors and classmates who pointed out my forward leaning riding posture on the course bikes during my MSF class, or my riding partners who watch me crouch over with feet on the pillion rests everywhere I ride. Yea, in time I was pretty good at swinging my legs forward to shift and brake and learned a host of bad riding habits.

Inspired by racebikes participating in Vintage Days at Sears Point and many web resources, I began converting the clapped out CL350 roller into a café racer with dropped handlebars rearset foot controls and solo seat. On the first ride I knew I had done something right and am hooked.

The coolest thing about café racebikes is they are never done. It's always a work in progress, as parts break down, better parts become available, you run out of money, you find a better way or part to incorporate, you are always developing your bike. Luck is your ally as you figure out how it will all fit together with the pavement passing under you and hopefully the sun behind you. If you ever get the chance to chop your bike up, I urge you to do it. I'll race ya' to the next café.