The Homeless 350
By: Tony Morgan
Well, the story of the little Honda 350 isn’t over. The trip to Ottawa to retrieve the bikes went flawlessly, and allowed my Dad and I to bond a bit on the road trip. Picking up the bikes was a piece of cake, and both were in better condition than anticipated. I couldn’t wait to get back to Guelph to show Roger, the fellow for whom I had been looking for one of these bikes. I arrived back in Guelph at about 6:00 p.m. on a Monday night, and promptly called Roger to come look at the bikes. He was very excited, and only took about fifteen minutes to make it to my house. He couldn’t believe the condition of either the main bike, or the parts bike, and got a little misty-eyed when recounting some stories from his youth involving CB350s. Not being plated, all he could do was ride the bike up and down my driveway (which is pretty long, mind you) for about half an hour. He was fascinated by the fuel gauge incorporated into the filler cap. He had never seen this particular option on any CB350 over a forty year period! After grinning, laughing, and crying a little bit, he went home a very, very happy man. Life was about to change for Roger, however.
I called him a few days later to let him know I had arranged for a safety, and to set up a time to deliver the bike to him. I left three messages that day, without a response, which is very rare for Roger or his wife. I got a call the following evening from Roger’s wife, informing me that he had had a minor stroke, and was still in the hospital. Upon visiting him, he was pretty crestfallen, as he had significant numbness in one hand and leg, and it was looking like he may have to give up his driver’s licence. He couldn’t get over the timing, having just found his bike a few weeks prior, but life is always full of surprises, both good and bad. He was thankful for being able to ride the bike as little as he did in my driveway, but sheepishly asked me if I would consider selling it for him. He couldn’t face restoring it, not knowing if he would ever be able to ride it again, but I was optimistic. I told him I would have no trouble selling it, but I didn’t need the cash right away, so I told him I would probably hang on to it for this season, to see if the situation changed, or I might even just keep it myself. Now he feels reponsible for my being “stuck” with this bike, and nothing I could say would convince him that it wasn’t a problem to just keep the bike for a while.
He’s out of the hospital now, of course, but his driver’s licence is temporarily suspended, until test results come back on the damage, if any, to his heart. I still think he may wind up taking the bike, even just to tinker on, but I’m certainly not going to push him. I also have a plan pleading with him to store the bike at his place, as I am out of storage room, and if the bike is actually just sitting in his garage, it may be an inspiration for him to keep it, but we’ll see.
I had planned on this being a kind of series of articles on the restoration of this old girl, with a very enthusiastic ex-owner as the protagonist, and it could still work out that way. Regardless of what happens, Roger was very excited to get a chance to ride one again, even if it was just in a driveway, and while he was on it, my wife noticed that the CB350 is pretty much her prime example of what a 70′s bike should look like. She found herself quite attracted to it (she has always had a thing for what she calls “flat bikes”, where the seat and the gas tank are very level) and asked if I thought it would be reliable enough for her to ride to work. So rather than the end of one story, this might just be the beginning of another…
