The first time I saw a chopper as a young boy (1967) was on I-5 in Seattle. The forks had to be about 10' long. It was some hippie biker dude with his momma on the back. He had his feet up on the highway pegs and his arms crossed laying on his belly. I peered out the back seat window in amazement at what I was seeing. The dude looked over and gave me a peace sign, I gave one back. My dad (conservative white collar) noticed the exchange, rolled down his window, gave the guy the bird and told him to get a haircut. Well anyway that was just one of many instances that got me hooked on motorcycles. I think it was the movie, "On any Sunday" that really did me in and later took it's toll on my dad to finally give in and help me buy my first bike, a 1965 CB 90.
Peace, Blltrdr