I was riding along on my 1975 Yamaha XS-650, one fine summer day, rounding the curve on I-225, approaching Parker Road. I had been living in Colorado for almost a year, and I was beginning to find my way around the Metro Denver area a little better.
I had found a newsstand/magazine store, in Aurora, which carried some obscure British motorcycling magazines, underground comix and other things of interest. I was headed back home from there on the motorcycle when I saw the truck.
I was in the right-turn-only lane, about to peel off onto Parker Road when a one-ton Chevy truck, with stock-sides mounted to the bed, went by in the left lane. The bed of the truck was heaped with scrap metal, and it was obvious that it was on the way to the recyclers.
There was a variety of metal jammed into the truck. There were bed frames, air-conditioner covers, pipe, car parts and sundry other bits and bobs gleaned from the dumpsters around town. And, right on top of the pile, were two vintage bikes which looked to be honest-to-goodness Schwinn Stingrays.
I briefly considered swerving back into the through traffic and chasing the truck down to try and buy the bikes. But, I was past the point of no return on the exit, and I wasn't sure they were really Schwinns.
That was 18 years ago, and I still wish I had chased that truck down...