This "MOTORCYCLE RESTORATION PROJECT" was completed in honour to the memory of my father 

REV. BERNARD C. HODSON

Born May 8,1922

Deceased January 19, 1999

He was known by many of his friends as,

"THE ROARING REVEREND"

This motorcycle originally owned by "Bernie" was one of his favourites. It is a 1969 CB750K HONDA

(Sandcast version)

IN REMEMBRANCE 

to Bernie

There it is in the photo, Bernie, and his brand new motorcycle parked in front of our old house on Cameron St. It is the fall of 1970. The picture was taken on one of those cool days in October. He is standing behind his sparkling steed, looking a little unsure but still very pleased with his new purchase. He was the second owner of this 1969 CB750K Honda.

On hearing of the cost of this new acquisition my brother said, Dad I thought we were supposed to be poor! Bernie was 50 years old by then. There was still plenty of time to reap the benefits of an otherwise frugal life.

In 1954 he became an ordained Anglican Minister, but he already had a previous long time interest in motorcycles. This was something he shared with his father as a young boy growing up in England before the Second World War.   

Here's a shot of me and dad taken in 1956. At the age of 4 it looks like I'm hanging on pretty tight. This was the first bike Bernie owned in Canada. The picture is a little faded but it is recognizable as a Triumph. In reference to books, its appearance is that of  a late 1940's model 650 Thunderbird. He didn't keep it very long, as it was not in very good condition. He once explained to me it was in need of repair.

No doubt in England they were a dime a dozen. In Canada and  in a small town in Saskatchewan they were an extremely rare site, especially parked in front of the local Church on a Sunday morning.

Bernie rode through the war as a Dispatch rider. I once overheard him say to a nervous passenger about the relative safety of riding bikes. "During the war dispatchers were considered to be sport for enemy snipers, so if I survived that riding on a motorcycle we weren't likely going to be killed in everyday traffic.

He rode for the British Army, being stationed for a time in North Africa, going back and forth between the supply lines and the front lines that were fighting Pommels tanks. Later in Italy was guarding  captured "enemy troops."

I bought this old Honda from my dad in 1976. By then the Kawasaki 900's were out and this bikes reputation not yet established as the "First of the Superbikes" was fading fast. It was well traveled with approximately. 50,000 miles on it. It was still reliable and I had many good  rides on it. More than a few times, I accompanied my dad as well. 

By then he was riding a  Honda 900. He bought a few Goldwings after they came out. Somewhere in between he had a Motto Guzzi 1000. 

Twice we went to Sturgis. Riding in the Black Hills of South Dakota is a Mecca to most riding enthusiasts in North America. To be around such a gathering is truly an awe inspiring site. to be able to say, I've been there is almost a thrill enough. 

So a few years after that in 1984 I put this old Honda into storage. What can I say in my defense. My interest had waned. At the time it was just another old bike. There were newer models out. They handled better. They were faster. It had not yet established its mystique.  

I never replaced it, thinking one day I would. Other priorities developed as I pursued my career, then marriage and two children to raise. As the years ticked by, that old bike sat in my fathers garage. Thinking back I have to ask myself was it really in storage or was it in "neglect." I can tell you in that time I tried to sell it once or twice but I guess no one else thought it was worth very much either.

In 1997 my fathers health began to fail him. I year or two before that I had brought the old Honda home to my own garage. I thought at the time it would be easier to sell if it was closer by.

My visits with Bernie were tempered by his ill health. Gradually he was losing his battle with cancer. That was the winter he went in for surgery. The following summer he decided to give up his "Precious Gold Wing." He found it was too heavy to maneuver and he feared pulling the wrong muscles on a big and heavy bike.

  Trading it in for a Honda Elite, a 250cc step through scooter was not quite the same. Bernie's junkets were confined to trips around town as this definitely was not a highway bike! 

Still he took some good natured ribbing about this being his "Baby Gold Wing" and if he just watered it maybe it would grow up! Still he wasn't one to complain, but I could tell he was beginning to miss his road trips as the scooter just wasn't powerful enough for that. Yet he would argue, he got incredible mileage on a tank of gas.

As the biking season ended each visit home to Bernie's became more valued and important. As winter approached and his illness worsened, he entered into the palliative care unit in his home town hospital. It was a place he knew well having visited there many times ministering to those who called him to their bedside.

For each of us who were members of his family there was significance in those last days with him. It was a time to resolve any differences and make our peace. My kids remember "their special rides" on grandpas bikes. For them it holds a nostalgic place.

On January 19, 1999 my father died, peacefully in his sleep. 

Not long afterwards, I found myself standing alone in my own garage, remembering Bernie, as I stared at his old bike and a step through scooter. In sorting through some of my memories of him it seemed a restoration was in order. It was not something we ever talked about. 

Certainly, I think he would have approved.