Getting the bug

Before I start - I may have posted these pics before but a great post by Fuzzy gave me a little inspiration.

I'm fairly certain (like 100% certain) that my old man is the cause of my addiction to motorcycles as like Fuzzy, I started young.

First Kwaka?

The little bike above was obviously my first and the little plastic fantastic served both myself and my sisters well.  It was even on occasion ridden two-up down the sloping section we had growing up in Nelson (pic is probably in Masterton where I was born and we lived prior to the move South).  The little bike was entirely plastic except for the shafts the pedals fitted to.  It was (wait for it) Kawasaki green and I believe it had orange or red handle bars and perhaps seat (must see if I can find a colour pic one day).

As I got older I sometimes ended up like Fuzzy - sitting on the tank of one of Dad's bikes wearing a funny old white helmet with leather flaps that formed the fastening.  I was even on occasion dropped off at kindy on one of the bikes.

Yes, the cat survived this photo...

One of the more memorable trips was a ride on the tank of a trail bike up into the snow one winter.  There were at least two other bikes with us and I can remember a snow fight and wearing a chunk of ice/snow from my Uncle...

Later on I moved to the rear of the bike and can still remember being scared first time out.  Then Dad got out of bikes for a while (and into boats) and it wasn't until we moved to Napier that he got back into them and I ended up with bike number one.

The $120 TS185

And so began the addiction...