Way back in the fifties, I had watched amazing demonstration runs by one E. J. Potter, the self styled "Michigan Madman" who, for a fee, performed three 1/4 mile drag runs on his methanol burning small block Chevy V-8 powered motorcycle. Yes, that's right, a highly tuned and modified V-8 powered device which produced thick clouds of smoke that completely obscured the runway, generally hiding everything except the top of his helmet, as man and machine hurtled down the strip leaving a squiggly burnt rubber trial down the entire 440 yards! Three runs, three squiggles.

Potter, who had started his career on a Vincent sprinter, was a friendly enough fellow, and readily mixed with the crowd, answering all questions put to him, so I had met him several times before at various drag strips. He obviously enjoyed watching us run our Lightning and we were chatting back and forth when I asked him if the V-8 bike ever frightened him. His reply was almost magical in its clarity and honesty. To wit--"the only thing that scares me is ever having to go back to work!" A big open grin split his face at my expression of amusement, as I turned and walked away, totally speechless.

Another Vincent related retort occurred in my shop several years back when Rick Vochell was visiting on his touring Rapide, as fine an example as can be seen anywhere. Rick had quietly stepped aside to allow me to attend to the needs of another rider who was seeking merchandize for his flashy Kawasaki Z-1, now parked alongside the more somber Vincent out front. This new chap, a big lout of a fellow, suddenly looked out at both bikes, and then turning to face Rick said, "Why don't you get rid of that antique and get a modern bike, like mine?" Just like that, he had spit it out, and without a noticeable passage of time he got his reply. Rick spun round one full circle on his heel and let fly, "I'd rather walk, carrying a Vincent spoke than ride one of those God damn things."

It was fabulous. The fellow's jaw dropped near 'bout to his naval, and speechless, he stomped out, climbed aboard his Z-1 now somehow tarnished, and rode off. I was fully aware that a magic moment had occurred and told Rick so, where upon he grinned in his tight lipped manner and dismissed the entire episode.