My favorite Triumph story:
The local juvenile delinquent lived next to a church, directly across the street from my home as a little boy. He just loved to work on it on Sunday mornings (during services) and rev it and rev it thru the straight pipes (really chicken, huh?) just to aggravate the church folks.
Well, The Lord does work in mysterious ways, wondrous to behold. . .
The jerk in question rode it around the block to check something. He'd often cut through the front yard of the church as a short cut back into his yard. This day he did, but misjudged his steering and drove it straight into the ditch in front of the church, four foot deep in water from a long night's rain!
Immediately, the front doors opened (church was over) and everybody piled out to see our hero vurtually pinned in the muck. So what happens, while they're trying not to laugh? All these men pull off their jackets and ties and pull our pilot and his no worse for wear Bonneville out of his 'situation'.
Well . . . you guessed it. NEVER worked on that bike on Sundays again and always cut the church yard when he cut his own grass.
Can I get an 'Amen'?
J o e y
