There was a time before in my life before
 all of this happened that I did not have a 
care in the world. I could have a conversation 
with someone with out  uttering the word 
motorcycle every second word. .....those were
the days.  
 Hi my name is Vic and I'm a Jawa 
junky, a motor maniac your original gearhead
and I need help.  
 It all started one quiet day
in December. It was two days after Christmas 
and me and my little brother were sitting down
to our traditional meal,pizza. I heard a knock 
on the door, I knew that I shouldn't answer it 
my gutts knotted up but I answered it anyway.   
"Hello my name is Peter" he did not look like the 
kind of person discribed in those horror novel 
that you should  fear so I answered back. "Hi, 
what can I do for you" I nievly asked "I noticed 
that you are selling your VW would you be interested
in a trade" he said without even showing a trace 
of his evil intent.
 "Wadda you got" I said in my worst New York accent
 "Would you go for a straight swap for my motorcycle"
Now having five cars in the driveway tends to motivate someone,
but this isn't an excuse for what I did next.
 "What kind of bike" I replied
 "It's a 78 Jawa" he said with a straight face.
 "Does it run"
 "Sure" I should have known that he meant most of the time.
 "OK bring it by"
 I was thrown of by the shiny black paint and the sparkling chrome.
I should have known that it was pure evil trying to steal my soul,
O.K. it wasn't evil but it did put a tingle in my soul and I knew 
that I wanted to ride it that day. But it was winter in Canada and
they don't make snow tires for bikes. So I waited.
This is how I found my first bike and my first Jawa,now there
are three of them and I find myself waiting to uncover another
of these beauties.