Geez, lots of bikes.
But maybe the first "motorcycle" I owned (in a cooperative venture with my older brother and a couple of twin brothers down the street) was something fashioned from a Briggs & Stratton 2hp reel mower and a Schwinn stingray.
It was summer, we were bored, and the twins had a yard full of old washer and bicycle parts.......and their dad had a gas powered lawnmower. This made them the envy of the neighborhood as the rest of us sweated across the lawn with push mowers.
Anyway, one sweltering summer day we were dreaming of being really old (you know, like 16 or 40 or something) and having our own wheels. We all wanted a motorcycle because the neighborhood hooligan down the block had this heinously loud Triumph that all our mothers cursed. If mom hated it, it had to be worth having.
Not sure who sparked the idea, but it was helped along by boredom, and sugar laced strawberry Koolaid. We all admired the crazy raw power of the Briggs & Straton and thought it would make a cool go-Kart engine, but that was well beyond the scope of our mechanical skills and cash holdings to produce.
On the other hand, it was really easy to take the upright push handles off the mower leaving only the two wheels, the blade/reel between them, and the engine on top.
If we could put a seat on it somehow we just knew it would take us where we wanted to go with minimum time and ingenuity investment.
A Schwinn stingray with no rear wheel provided the perfect (?) solution.
What we did was spread the rear legs of the frame apart far enough to match up with the place where the original mower handles had inserted. Bolt them into place and.........a miracle was born.
Not only could we sit on the bike seat and drive around at whatever great velocity that 2hp could push us, we could also still cut lawns with it since the blades and wheels were still intact.
In fact that little motor had enough umph that we could get one kid riding and steering, one on the handlebars to direct traffic, and the other two could stand on the body of the mower (barefoot of course, since it was summer). The fact that nobody lost a foot that day is proof enough for me that angels truly do protect children, idiots, and idiots who are still children.
We were the coolest kids in the world that day, right up to the time that the twins dad came home.