Fathers Day Special: A Story Of Three Generations United By Motorcycles

Fathers are a strange breed. They're our gateway to the world. We seek them out when we wanna know what's good, what's not; we seek their confidence when life has us enveloped in uncertainty. We seek out their friendship, try to earn their respect, do what they do, live by "codes", and do our best to live up to the name of our first superhero - 'Dad'. 

But they're also super weird. For instance, my dad brought motorcycles into my life. He taught me how to ride, but then didn't let me ride his bike! Asked me to wait till I got my own. So, of course, I nicked the keys to his ride and life on wheels happened. And today, because of bikes, I have the pleasure of bringing to you a very special story. It's about a father, his son, and his son, in whose lives 'Jawa' and 'Yezdi' were more than motorcycles: they're memories with real emotions.

The Father:

Thirty years! That's how long Gladstone Wilson worked at Ideal Jawa India, the OG promoters of Jawa and Yezdi in India. He was incharge of machine maintenance at the factory, and rode his Yezdi 60cc Jet to work everyday until operations ceased in 1996. In three decades, a lot of life happens, and you go from being a boy to man, and from a man to a father. Gladstone had two boys and he'd often bring them along to the factory, knowingly or unknowingly planting the seed of motorcycling in their lives too. When those boys weren't goofing around motorcycles their dad helped build, they were puttering around town on their mum's Yezdi Colt 60cc. Life on wheels was inevitable for these young lads. 

The tenacity of a man who gives decades of his youth to one job always surprises me. That focus, the relentless belief in the process is in such short supply these days. And I guess, it's this virtue of holding on, enduring even when the chips are down is what his oldest son Gavin inherited, which came to good use when he was leaving boyhood and becoming a man. 

The Son:

On his 21st birthday in 1995, Gavin's parents gifted him a Yezdi Roadking, which he rides to this day. Over the years, he has amassed immeasurable memories on those bikes, but not all of them were smooth sailing. A year into owning his motorcycle, Jawa and Yezdi shut shop, and all the problems that come with a defunct brand came knocking at the door. Problems for parts and maintenance creeped in. Heck, it was also the time when the country was transitioning from two-strokes, to cleaner and more sensible four-strokes which inevitably shrunk the Jawa-Yezdi community drastically. But  Gavin didn't cave in and pushed through to keep their bikes running. 

During our chat, he recalled a time when people were scrapping their Jawas and Yezdis, he and his brother Ainsley chose to salvage as many models and variants as possible. Today they house a Jawa model A, 250cc, Yezdi 350 twins, an Oilking, a Yezdi model B, the Classic, the Deluxe and the Monarch. He even bought back his dad's Jet and mum's Colt and restored them. In fact, by 2016 he'd collected every single model that had rolled out of the old Ideal Jawa factory, including its variants.

In the little time that Gavin and I spoke, it didn't seem like he collected all these bikes for novelty's sake. His intentions were deeper: He did it to retain a part of a lost culture, Mysore's biking culture. He did it to preserve the joy those Jawa and Yezdi bikes brought in their lives. And that's the thing about things that make us happy. They come with their share of pain and pressure, they offer an opportunity to endure, to be strong when everyone around you is asking you to stop, and just quit. You do it because memories help form identities, and it's important to hold on to who you are; something I believe will be his contribution to his son Jaden's journey from boyhood to becoming a man. 

Dawn of a new son:

Dear Jaden, 

You are now as old as your dad was when he got the keys to a motorcycle which shaped his future in ways he could not have conceived back then. You're an artist, studying to become an architect. And life may take you places generations before you could only dream of. But with these inherited life lessons, you shall design a whole new journey, the experiences of which you will hopefully pass on someday. They will be tools to forge a life that succeeds you. 

From what I know, your first bike wasn't a Jawa or a Yezdi, although you grew up with many around. I've been told your heart craves for one. That said, this is your journey, a course that you will chart on two wheels and maybe this is how it begins. The lessons of your father and his father shall be your guiding light, but the tracks you tread are your own, and you'll have to trust the process. Best of luck! 

“Son, I’m happy to pass on my legacy to you. I wish to ride with you more in the future and look forward to you buying, riding and enjoying better and bigger motorcycles than me.” 
- Gavin

To all you dads out there. Thank you and happy Father's Day!

From,
Ishan Lee & Team Zigwheels