Remember Robert Perkins and his hopped-up 1990 Honda NS144F? Well, due to popular demand, he’s back with the creation story of his Frankenbike.
Picture a rosebush ablaze with pink and teal blooms. If you dared to do so, you just captured half the absurdity of how this double-engine fifty sprung to life. Back when I first beheld this diminutive motorcycle in 2013, it appeared to have been dragged through a rose sticker garden headlight first. I should have seen the thorns then…
Of course, it all started out innocently enough with a 2,000-mile round trip from Alabama to West Virginia. Having recently sold one of eight motorcycles, I swore to the immortal gods that never again would I own more bikes than our week has days. Just maybe, peer pressure from the non-motorcycling public had taken its toll. When co-workers would question the sanity of polygamous motorcycle ownership, I learned to simply drop my eyes, unwilling to explain. Yes, I have been one acquainted with the bike.
Peer pressure or not, I was doing well maintaining my pledge until the stars aligned against me. Riding out that unusually cool August morning from my home in Alabama, I could not see the invisible game pieces of fate being ushered into motion. Regardless of the omens, my trip up to Blowing Rock, North Carolina was the paradigm of a beautiful late summer tour. By some temporary reversal in global warming, the weather had shifted from a heat wave to an unusual cool spell. Not all was perfect, though. The gods were watching, and as a mortal capable of mistakes, I perceived early in the trip that my routing was a bit off. Too romantic to employ a GPS, I had been relying on my trusty maps of the papyrus variety and …read more