I had been talking big about getting a bike for Amanda to learn on for a while. After a few beer fueled conversations with some buddies and some text messages I found the perfect candidate.
A 1971 Honda CB350... In a box.
It took a lot of ice tea, sweat, a little blood and hell of a lot more elbow grease to get it looking like a bike again. There are few things better than wrenching on "old bikes" while listening to The Cult in the summer time.
The stable
And the finished product
I gave her the keys and she kicked it over and rode off. That was the last I saw of her.
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