Marybell

Article By Wally Wersching It was late October 2004 when I first heard about Marybell, though I didn’t know it at the time. I saw an ad in the local classifieds that stated “Old motorcycle for sale – 124 Sleeping Bear Lane, Busick, NC”. I remembered where Busick, NC was from my trips to Roaring Fork Falls. It’s located on rt. 80 just north of the Blueridge Parkway. It is a very small mountain community. I decided to take a ride up there next Saturday. If nothing else, I’ll enjoy the ride in the mountains. It was a pleasant day. The color was almost gone from the trees but was still a very nice ride. It was in the mid-50’s in the mountains with plenty of sun. It took me some time to locate 124 Sleeping Bear Lane. It was an old farmhouse at the end of a gravel road. I rode up the deeply rutted driveway, walked onto the weathered unpainted porch and knocked on the old wooden screen door. A man in his 80’s wearing a pair of dirty and torn bib overalls with only one strap over his shoulders opened the door. With a growl, he asked me “what the hell you want?” I showed him a copy of the ad and asked if I could see the “old motorcycle” he has for sale. He warmed up immediately and said: “You’re here to see Marybell.” I didn’t know what he was talking about but I followed him to a small weather beaten shed next to the barn. With a little effort, he opened the door. The hinges were very rusty and didn’t want to move. He walked into the shed and removed the cover from the motorcycle. Dust engulfed the inside of the shed. Each particle was highlighted in the bright sunlight coming through the opened door. After a few seconds, I could see the motorcycle. To my astonishment, it was a 1965 Harley-Davidson Electroglide. The tires were flat and the bike was dusty but it was all there. It was beautiful! (The 1965 Harley was the last year of the panhead engine and the first year of the electric start. It had the best of both and was very rare.) My eyes must have gotten as big as saucers. With a smile, the old man asked if I liked Marybell. I said yes definitely. He didn’t want to sell her but he had to sell the farm. There would be no place for Marybell. I walked around Marybell looking closely at her. Someone spent a lot of time restoring her. Everything was just like it came from the factory forty years ago. I introduced myself and learned his name was Jed Wilson. The motorcycle belonged to his grandson Josh. Jed invited me to sit on the porch for awhile as he told me about Josh and Marybell. Larry, Josh’s dad, bought Marybell new in 1965 and named it after a girlfriend he had in high school. He rode it for over twenty years until in 1986, a drunk driver ran him and Marybell off the road. The wreck killed Larry and all but destroyed Marybell. Josh was only fourteen at the time and Marybell was all he had left of his father. Josh decided to bring the pile of broken motorcycle parts back to life. It took him almost two years to get Marybell back on the road. He saved all his spending money and hunted everywhere to find parts to replace the ones broken in his dad’s crash. When Josh was sixteen, Marybell was roadworthy but was still missing many of her parts. Most of Josh’s friends had crotch rockets and choppers. They teased Josh about Marybell being too heavy and slow. Josh didn’t mind going slower. He really loved Marybell and the feeling he got when he was riding her. Josh rode Marybell regularly all the while looking for the parts that would make her perfect. Marybell seemed to appreciate the effort. She never broke down even though some of her parts were badly worn. Everyone in town could hear the slow mellow tones of Marybell as she climbed the hills. Josh had her just about perfect when he disappeared. He went hunting one fall day and was never seen again. They found his truck but never found him; even after weeks of intense searching. That was ten years ago. Marybell has been sitting in the shed ever since waiting for Josh to ride her again. That was Marybell’s story. Jed and I talked some more about his farm and where he was going to live. Then it came time to ask the all-important question: how much was he asking for Marybell? It was a very rare find in exceptional condition. The only drawback was that she had been in that shed under that cover for ten years. A lot can happen to the insides of any motor vehicle that sits for a long time. The repair cost can be very expensive. I asked Jed the question and he told me to make an offer. I always offer low so we can negotiate to what he really wants for it. I offered him $1,000 for Marybell. I almost fell off the chair when he said OK. The only stipulation was that I keep her original and ride her regularly. That was no problem. I love riding old Harleys and it would be a sacrilege to modify one in such perfect condition. He wouldn’t take any money down. He said that she was mine when I came for her. I was there with my El Camino the next day. I brought an air tank to inflate Marybell’s tires so they’ll roll up the ramp more easily onto the back of the El Camino. I gave Jed the money and wished him well. He was a very sad and lonely man. He really missed Josh. I thought that he was going to cry when I pulled away with Marybell in the back. When I got her home, I carefully unloaded her and rolled her into the garage. I wiped her down to see that the black and white paint was still perfect along with all her chrome - no pits or rust anywhere. The next thing was to drain all her fluids. Petroleum based fluids like gas, oil, brake fluid, etc. turn toxic after a few years. In their toxic state, they can eat through metal causing holes in the carburetor, gas tank and even the engine. The first thing I did was to drain the gas from the tank. Gas will stink and turn brown and gummy after a short time. This clogs up everything. To my surprise, the gas came out smelling fresh and was clear. I drained the carb and there was no deterioration. It looked as if she was parked a week ago – not ten years.

The next thing was to try and turn her over. Sometime engines get rusty and freeze up when stored. With a slight push down on the kick-starter, I knew that Marybell’s engine was as free as when it left the factory, forty years ago. The next was the engine oil. Again, Marybell surprised me. Her oil was clean, like it had just been changed. The same with the transmission fluid, front fork oil and even the brake fluid was clean when I bled the rear brake. I had never seen the fluids this well preserved in a vehicle that was stored for so long.

After all the fluids were changed, I checked the battery. It was dead. Normally I would have bought a new battery. Motorcycle batteries don’t last over four or five years - much less over ten. But Marybell was definitely different. I charged the battery and it took a charge. The next thing was to fire her up. I set the choke and hit the starter button. The engine whirred a few times then she fired! It was a beautiful sound. The Harley panhead is the best sounding engine they ever made. It is very quiet mechanically with a mellow soft exhaust tone. It was as if I had died and gone to Harley rider heaven. Marybell was amazing! After over ten years she ran perfectly. I took it for a short ride to check everything out. She was ready for the road. She seemed eager to go too. It was like she was just waiting for Josh to hop on, hit the starter button and go.

I Idecided to take a ride up to Busick to show old Jed the bike the next nice Saturday. I was sure that he would like to see her back on the road. It wasn’t until Thanksgiving weekend when I got a chance to go. When I got to Jed’s farm, it was all boarded up. He was gone. I stopped at the general store on rt80 and they said that he had moved to a home somewhere on the “flat lands” near Charlotte. The proprietor and some of his customers followed me out to Marybell. They asked if it was Marybell. I said that I had bought it from Jed and had just got her back on the road. They were glad to see her again. They all had good things to say about Josh and Marybell. It was such a nice day that I thought I’d take the long way home and ride some of the back roads up in the mountains. Marybell seemed to really like the mountains again. As we rounded a turn she didn’t respond and went straight for the ditch. It took all I could do to keep from laying her down. Something stopped her from turning. All the way home, I rode really slow just in case her steering got hung up again. Luckily it didn’t. Once I got home, I took the front fork off to check the steering head bearings. I hadn’t checked them before. After pulling it apart, I saw that there was nothing wrong with the bearings, race or any of the steering mechanism. It must have been maybe something in the road – a rut or something that I hadn’t seen. I didn’t go back during the winter. The mountains can get very cold and icy which is no place to be riding a motorcycle. I just rode around the Shelby area until spring. Spring didn’t come too soon, I really love riding in the mountains and during the winter, I miss it. It was a mid-April Saturday. The sun was out and in Shelby, spring had sprung – with all the dogwoods and azaleas in bloom. I knew that it was still winter in the mountains but warm enough for a bundled-up ride. I took Marybell up rt 80 out of Marion. She loved the twisties and we climbed all the way to the Blueridge Parkway. I decided that as long as I was close, I find out why she almost wrecked in the fall. I rode down the same road and took it real slow where she didn’t turn before. There were no ruts in the road but Marybell still would not turn. I pulled off the road and noticed a footpath going into the woods. It was a little over-grown but still passable. I took my camera and started hiking up the trail. It went out into a beautiful valley. It was a clear cloudless sky and the sun was intense. The leaves had not made their spring appearance yet but the view was still awe-inspiring. I paused for a few moments taking pictures when something caught my eye. It was something bright orange, way down in the valley. It was up in the trees flapping in the breeze. I couldn’t tell what it was but I took a picture of it. I could blow it up on the computer when I got home. I walked back to Marybell, hit the starter, put her in gear and headed home. The steering was fine again. It was only on that particular road at that particular spot. It was very strange! When I got home, I pulled up the picture on the computer and enlarged it. The bright-orange object was a hunter’s vest. There was also a shadow that looked like a person in a tree stand. It wasn’t hunting season so I thought that it must be something else. The next weekend, I rode Marybell up to the mountains again and I stopped at the ranger station. I showed the ranger the printout of the enlargement. He was concerned and asked where it was. I told him the whole situation with Marybell and explained how to get to the place where I took the picture. He took my name and number and said he’d look into it. A couple weeks passed and the ranger called. He told me that when they finally got down to where the bright orange vest was, they discovered some skeletal remains in a tree stand. It was identified by dental records to be Josh Wilson, Marybell’s long time owner who had been missing for over ten years. WOW! Did Marybell really know where he was? Was that the reason for the steering problems – to make me stop and look? This reminds me of Steven King’s “Christine” but without the evil twist. I went out to the garage and told Marybell that Josh was found. I felt funny talking to her that way but I also thought that she understood. While I was on the phone with the ranger, I asked where Jed was living. I wanted to stop by with Marybell and talk with him for awhile. He said that he was living just south of Winston-Salem at an assisted living home. I decided to go visit him the next nice Saturday. When I got there, I asked for Jed at the desk. The nurse seemed uneasy when I asked for him. I asked her if there was a problem with him. She said that he was really depressed and the doctors didn’t think he’d last very long. Then she showed me to his room. Once in his room, I noticed that he had really changed since the last time we visited. He looked much older and his color was almost gray. He had heard about finding Josh’s remains from the ranger. I told him the whole story about Marybell’s steering problems and how I saw the bright orange vest. I also told him that Marybell was outside in the parking lot. He wanted to see her so I wheeled him outside. A big smile got on his face when he saw her. He leaned over to touch her seat in almost a caressing motion. He talked to her in a low voice that I couldn’t hear then told her goodbye. I wheeled him back to his room. He was talking all the time about Josh and Marybell and their escapades – like they happened yesterday instead of over ten years ago. I stayed for about an hour and he talked my ear off about Josh and Marybell. They must have really been something in their day. I said goodbye and rode Marybell home. A couple weeks later, the nurse from the rest home called me. She told me that Jed had passed away in his sleep the night before. She also said that he had seemed more at peace since my visit. I went out to the garage to tell Marybell about Jed.