Great Day
GREAT DAY
Bikes And Ballplayers At Gun Lake
GREAT DAY! It WAS a great day-in the Michigan woods. Invited to ride the sandy, pine, oak and maple hills surrounding Gun Lake, near Grand Rapids, were all the staffers of Kawasaki Midwest of that city, a pair of 1968 World Series winners from the Detroit Tigers baseball team, and CYCLE WORLD.
Dave Mehney, proprietor of Kawasaki Midwest, issued the invitation (1) to ride Kawasaki motorcycles in the luxurious scenic beauty of western Michigan, and (2) to meet the winning pitcher of three World Series games, Mickey Lolich, and his standout center fielder teammate, Mickey Stanley, both of whom are enthusiastic motorcycle rider/owners.
The morning started with a gathering of motorcycles and riders at Mehney’s Gun Lake cottage. Lourteen participants greeted one another all-around, then proceeded to buzz off into the cool technicolor clarity, the red, green and gold of a late autumn Michigan day.
The paved roads quickly became non-paved secondaries, which became two-rut tracks, which became deer trails, which became squirrel trails, which sometimes evaporated in broad carpets of golden leaves or fragrant brown pine needles. The game seemed to be to run as quickly as possible along these trails, without coming a cropper in slippery mud puddles, or encountering complete loss of control in suddenly deep, soft, damp sand. The tingle of rushing air, scented with the leaf burning, green pine smells of autumn, lent zest to the delicious wild careening flight of the bikes through the boondocks.
The group emerged from the woods, winded and wind-whipped, for a morning break at a rural restaurant. The Kawasaki crew and CYCLE WORLD discussed bikes, spills, near spills, and the antics of one rider who was thoroughly doused when, stranded in a deep puddle, another rider blasted through at 50 mph. Still another rider claimed to have invented a particular excursory feat he termed “The Michigan Sand Thing,” and he had a bruise to prove it.
While tnis was in progress, the two genial Mickeys, Lolich and Stanley, were kept busy by a group of autograph seekers of all ages, and by a proud grandmother who trotted out her plump grandson of about 12, who was able to recite, play by play, the chronology of the 1968 World Series, and the fielding, pitching and batting records of the two motorcyclist/ballplayers.
Coffee cups emptied, cigarettes stubbed out —by non-athletes the chase resumed, to be broken once again at noon for hot dogs and beans. After the siesta that followed, one group of wild ones resumed the mad ramble through the underbrush, while the ballplayers and some Kawasaki Midwest types took their wives on a two-up “scenic” tour of the Gun Lake area.
Dusk and the smell of barbecuing steaks ended the riding. After dinner
came the time to relax, to ease the aches of a day in (sometimes out of) the saddle, and to talk about Michigan woods riding, and motorcycles in general.
Somebody asked lefthander Lolich if the people in the Detroit Tigers front office frown on the motorcycling activities of the clutch game winner.
“They raised a little bit of hell when they found out I ride motorcycles, but they said they guess it’s okay as long as I take it easy, and stay off the streets,” Lolich said. “And, I’ve been riding motorcycles since 1962, when I was 21.”
The pitcher eased back in his chair to re-adjust the steak under his belt, then told about his bikes, riding, and his home state, Oregon. “My first bike was a Honda 50; my second was a Honda 150. Then 1 got hold of an old rigid Triumph TR-5. I’ve always been a dirt rider, but I’ve never been a competition rider. Oh, I never truly raced, but I used to run my Honda 160 in hare and hound. I’d take the mufflers off the 160, pay my $2 entry fee, and have a day’s fun. I used to do a lot of riding on abandoned logging roadsand you’ve never seen anything as slippery as the wet clay in Oregon.”
Lolich now owns a Honda 90, two Kawasaki 120s and a Kawasaki 175. And Kawasaki Midwest has lent him a 650 special, complete with road fairing and other trim. The latter bike is just for show, but the 120s and the 175 are for go. Lolich, who, on the pitcher’s mound, has felt the pressure of world championship, regards motorcycling as “an individual sport.” He explained, “No one can help you ride a motorcycle. You have to do it for yourself. A motorcycle puts you in competition with yourself. A difficult hill, a hard spot in the trail, they’re challenges. And, if you climb the hill or get past that tough spot, it’s a great feeling.”
Mickey Stanley, who’d been listening to his teammate expound, put in a word.“Lor me,”he said, “a bike is a way to relax. I’m a new rider; I’m no speed fan. I just like to putt away in the woods and forget the pressure. My bike lets me go plaees I wouldn’t ordinarily go.” Stanley, a native of Grand Rapids, recently became the owner of a bike, a 175 identical to Lolich’s machine. Earlier in the day he showed that even a new rider on a new bike can become an accomplished rider—if he’s a natural athlete of major league caliber. Lor anyone else, not a world champion in the balance and reflex departments, it takes a little longer.
The wives began to talk about taking the kids home. Some of the men were eager to load bikes on trailers and into piekup beds for the trip home. The inventor of “The Michigan Sand Thing” was looking forward to a long soak in a hot bath.
Then somebody said, “Gee, this has been fun. You know, if everybody knew how great a day in the woods with motorcycles can be, a lot more people would be motorcyclists. It was great!”
To this, CYCLE WORLD could only add a sincere, “Amen!” fol
