Member of the Month

MEMBER OF THE MONTH

TODD WALLACE

I have always been a gear-head but I haven’t always been a motorcycle guy.  My dad was pretty good with a wrench and I picked up the hobby from him.  We usually had a project car, and although amateurish, much of the restoration work was pretty good.  I vividly remember hanging around the garage handing him tools and picking up new swear words in Spanish.  We had spent years working together in the garage and by the time I left for college the old man had taught me all that he could.  I got a small tool set for graduation and he sent me on my way.

Sadly, at my house motorcycles were most definitely not discussed.  My brother and I knew there was no point in asking.  Somehow it was ok to own a beefed up 1970 GTO Judge and a 1969 Cougar convertible.  But a motorcycle – well that was just crazy talk. 

I can’t say I didn’t dabble in forbidden activities though.  My first motorcycle experience was on a friend’s Honda 50 when I was about 12.  My buddy was a good friend but a lousy instructor and didn’t give a whole lot of direction before he turned over the reins to me.  I ended up careening through the neighbor’s yard and crashing through the shrubs.  I was pretty rattled but not hurt.  Not my best work.

When I was in high school another buddy and I skipped out of class and rode his dirt bike for several hours.  This went much better until I tried to use the front brake in the gravel and performed a face dive that would make even Pete Rose blush.  My school clothes were tattered and I think that aroused some suspicion.  

I learned to ride properly years later when I returned from the Navy.  My ex-wife’s father had a 1966 Sears 250 that he had bought new.  He kept it at a small, old private airport hidden in out in the sticks in Georgetown, Texas.  This was a place where a bunch of retirees would gather, chat, do some wrenching and occasionally fly their old machines.  This was a great time for me.  I spent a lot of weekends there working on vintage airplanes and riding the Sears up and down the grass runways.  I would occasionally leave the airport and ride all the back roads of Central Texas.  I was hooked.  My father-in-law knew I loved the little Sears and would take care of it and he sold it to me in 2000.

Over the years I have had the opportunity to refine my skills owning and restoring many vehicles.  There were a lot of fits and starts along the way and I poured money into more than one project that fizzled out.  Just part of the learning curve I suppose.  What I think I’ve learned most, though, is that I truly dig owning a unique machine and the effort of the restoration makes the ownership exponentially more enjoyable.

In this past year my stable of motorcycles has exploded.  I have gone from a single lonely Sears to four Sears bikes, a Moto Guzzi and a Chinese CJ750.  I’m not sure where the crazy motorcycle journey will end but I’m going to enjoy the ride.

Todd Wallace