1962 Go-Kart Mini-Bike Coast to Coast - 3-Page Vintage Motorcycle Article

Description

1962 Go-Kart Mini-Bike Coast to Coast - 3-Page Vintage Motorcycle Article
Original, vintage magazine article
Page Size: Approx. 8" x 11" (21 cm x 28 cm) each page
Condition: Good
This is the story of a mini-bike named Mimi who had the
courage and faith in herself to begin a long, arduous trip from
New York City to Los Angeles. This is her story of the 3,808
mile adventure in her own words . . .
((T first saw my traveling companion at
1 the freight office Idlewild Airport
on June 9th, just before our departure.
Bill is skinny and quite a funny looking
character.
As for myself, I was born in Azusa,
California, in the back of the Go-Kart
factory with the assistance of Duffy Liv-
ingstone, my Father. Duffy built me from
a basic “Scrambler” frame. The only dif-
ference being modifications for the high-
ways and roads. I have sturdy fenders, a
chrome headlight and tail-light; also a nice
rack on my back for Bill’s suitcase and
my army surplus tent. My “Kit Bag”
which hangs on my right side, is for our
tools, extra sprockets, chain oil, and road
maps. I have a bright yellow California
license plate, and the usual Go-Kart Candy
Apple Red paint job.
At birth my weight was only 85 lbs.,
dripping wet. We found later, to our aston-
ishment, that my weight jumped to 155
lbs., loaded for the road and topped off
with my 2l/2 gallon capacity.
My name originally was Mini-Bike. Bill
changed it before we started from Idle-
wild. however, and gave me the name I
now go by; Mimi. I'm named after a
sweet, charming, French girl he knew in
Paris.
My heart, and something naturally vital
to my welfare, is a Power Products Super
58. two-cycle. 5.8 cubic inch engine. As
we crossed the Continental Divide (7,300
ft.) we impetuously named my engine
Valiant. After arrival in Los Angeles, we
retired Valiant to the “Home for Tired
Coast to Coast Mini-Bike Engines.” Val-
iant proved itself over and beyond the
call of duty.
Bill started out driving slowly and
gently, as he had no previous experience
with mini-bikes. Thank Heaven for this,
because we got lost twice before even
getting out of Idlewild. We drove inside,
but they informed us politely, that mini-
bikes were not allowed . . . house-broken
or not!
We watched our first sunrise together
while driving across New Jersey. In
Pennsylvania we visited Gettysburg and
Somerset; also Bradford, where they manu-
facture Zippo lighters. Bill toured the fac-
tory, but they wouldn’t let me in.
While crossing Ohio we almost got run
over by a thoughtless man in a station
wagon. I was by that time, however, be-
coming hardened as all cycles do sooner
or later, to the selfish drivers with four
wheels.
Due to Bill's exuberance, the starter
cord broke as we arrived tired and dirty
in Toledo. We called a friend named
Carlos in Detroit (pronounced DEEtroit),
who came down to help us. I fit easily
into the trunk of his Pontiac even though
fully loaded with our road gear. The
blackness inside the trunk frightened me,
and I didn't like the 55 mile trip to De-
troit one bit. (We deducted this 55 miles
from the mileage total, as my feet were
not on the ground).
We rested in Detroit for 8 days. I was
not feeling well, so Bill took me to a
hospital named “Kart Sales.” While I was
recuperating I overheard a man named
Wally say: "We found June bugs, flies,
mosquitos, rocks, assorted twigs, grass, and
a half pint of water in her gas tank.”