1988 Kawasaki Ninja 600R

NAME: Pep Barrameda
AGE: 49
HOME: San Francisco Bay Area
OCCUPATION: IT Professional

I bought my 1988 Kawasaki Ninja 600R brand new in Columbus, Georgia, while I was a young soldier at Fort Benning. During that summer of 1988, I officially became hooked on bikes and started to relate to all the sayings I'd heard about motorcycle culture, especially, "I just need to ride and everything will be okay." Motorcycling seemed to bring me to my happy place every time.

Fast-forward to 2016. The little 600 is now 28 years old, and I’m middle-aged. Despite everything life threw at me, I managed to hang on to the Ninja and keep it unmolested in clean, complete “survivor” condition except for an upgraded windscreen that was period correct and a missing helmet lock from a failed parts-robbery attempt in San Francisco. (Should I have replaced the lock? Nah, it’s part of the history of the bike, and I thought it was useless anyway.) Over the years it morphed from only possession to daily driver to non-op vehicle to sentimental vehicle and is now my version of a garage queen.

I have newer, bigger, more powerful, more tech-heavy motorcycles in the stable keeping the 1988 Kawasaki Ninja 600R company, but I have more history and first-time feelings associated with it than with any of the others. Every time I gaze on it or ride it to give it exercise, I have flashbacks of old events and relive conversations involving the bike. Other enthusiasts have told me it was thought of as a throwaway bike back then, but now it’s becoming rare—or at least old school.

I displayed it once at a major show and hope to display it again someday. It was exhilarating and addictive to see and meet like-minded enthusiasts who took interest in my old Kawasaki. It looks like I can still have more first-time feelings and experiences with this bike as we both continue to get up there in years.

To all my Army buddies, friends, and family, thanks for helping me take care of the bike. We’re still going strong.