I built this motorcycle with a tight group of friends when I was 17. I built it so I didn’t have to run around the neighborhood being a drug dealer. I built it because it was time for me to fly.
It’s a 1927 Indian Scout and there’s all kinds of special things about it, like the throttle is on the left and the frame was given to me by a man who was born in 1927. That holds a lot of heart for me. The last person to rebuild the motor was George Yarocki, a special man in the motorcycle world, and he just passed away. I’ve been riding it for 27 years; I’ve got 12, 15 bikes, but this one sleeps in my bedroom.
It’s the bike I ride on the Wall of Death, and I’d say I’ve done a million laps on it. For me, the Wall of Death breathes life: When I come off that wall and I’m able to see the look on people’s faces and hear kids asking for my autograph, I realize that, yeah, this is my job, but I also have a chance to tell them that if you practice hard at anything, you’ll be successful at it, and that being at a motorcycle show with your dad is what it’s all about.
It’s a miracle that I’m alive to be able to give a little testimony. I used to burn down the highway with the state troopers chasing after me. It’s been seven years coming up out of the mire, three going on four being out of the state pen, and pushing almost seven years without a drink. That’s been a really positive thing in my life, being clean and sober and having a clear mind. It’s been one heckuva ride.
~ Rhett Giordano, motorcycle racer and stuntman, Columbia, SC