Quote:
Originally Posted by creaturecat
Re: two strokes.
The two strokes are great collector bikes. Not so great to ride, on the street.
Old tech, by virtue of their age. Stinky. The stink sticks to your clothes. This can be perceived as a good thing, depending on circumstance. : )
The "hit" from the 750 triples? Addictive, for sure.
I owned one in high school. Parts would fly off it, at speed.
I can still feel that flexi-frame, at work.
Put her over backwards, with the mayor's kid on the back, 75-80 mph. I bet that the kid, aged 60, now, still has the scars to prove it. I escaped relatively unscathed.
fwiw: I just sold my last two stroke to the owner of Tech 3, in France. He has been madly gathering up 2 strokes from North America. There were 20 of them, in the container. His agent has been collecting and sending 1 container/year, for a while.
There were 2 water buffaloes on board.
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Oh man, I'm just sitting here chuckling to myself. Your experiences almost exactly mimic some of my own.
I had a room mate right after I got out of school and went to work who was as into bikes as I was. This was the early '80's. I had my current Ironhead and a few dirt bikes, he had a Honda 550 four, some dirt bikes, and an H2 with a big bore kit, expansion chambers, and some sort of carb upgrade. I rode it once, and just once. That flexi-frame felt like it had a vertical hinge right under the seat; I got into a near tank-slapper just as we crossed into triple digit speeds that darn near pitched me from the bike. I swore it off right there.
The mechanic out in the shop that I mentioned earlier - we have known each other for over 30 years. We rode together a bit in the mid '80's. Yes, me on that Ironhead... he already had a couple of H1 and H2 Kawasakis. My one chance to "beat" him in a drag race came one day when a big old Vista Cruiser wagon was in front of us, blinker on, slowing to make a left hand turn. I was in the right half of the lane, so I had clear road ahead of me first. I did the obvious and hammered it, leaving my buddy behind. At least temporarily. He caught up in very short order, right about the time that peaky little H1 got up on the pipe. He flipped it over backwards about the time he cleared my front fender. Wearing one of those "Michelin Man" down jackets (perfect riding gear, huh?) he exploded in a cloud of goose down as he landed on his back in the middle of the road. He wasn't hurt, the bike got only a little bit scraped up, and we both laughed our asses off.
Not sure why I want one now. You're right, they were horrible machines even when new. They have a certain appeal, though...