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One night, earlier this month, while flipping through late night TV for something to have on in the background while I finished up drafting a story, I came across a delayed taping of the Mecum Motorcycle Auction in Las Vegas. At first, I felt kind of foolish because I had no clue Mecum auctioned off motorcycles, let alone televised it. How could I not know this existed? I began watching pristine bike after pristine bike cross the block. Not two minutes later, my jaw was on the floor — not because the final bids were so astronomically high, but because these mint-condition vintage bikes were going for an absolute pittance.
Of course, later in the auction, there were big-ticket bikes commanding close to or over $100,000 bids — old Harley-Davidsons, Vincent Black Shadows, prewar Indian race bikes and basically anything Steve McQueen so much as breathed on. But the true gold mine was the insane plethora of immaculate ’70s dirt bikes and scramblers that no one seemed to care about. A ‘73 Husqvarna went for $2,250, a ‘74 Suzuki for $600, a ‘70 Yamaha for $500. Every bike that rolled across the screen seemed like an ideal candidate for my “next bike.” And that’s when I looked up and saw it. A spindly, little red Honda — a 1977 Honda CR125 Elsinore, to be exact. I recognized the bike immediately.
As far as collectibles are concerned, the CR125 isn’t a particularly valuable bike; it’s not rare. In fact, quite the opposite. It was one of the most ubiquitous bikes of the era because it was so damn good and everyone had to have one. In 1974, Cycle World’s review said of the bike, “Honda has literally set a new level of motocross excellence in motocross machinery that will have the rest of the industry straining to match it, much less surpass it.”
The CR125 isn’t a particularly valuable bike; it’s not rare. In fact, quite the opposite.
Before I was born, my parents lived in Sayreville, New Jersey, in a townhouse in an unfinished suburban neighborhood. That meant more than a few wide-open acres of dirt, grass and hills. Perfect terrain for my brother Ron to learn to ride the ‘77 CR125 Elsinore he’d rebuilt himself — his first bike, ever.