Faster
and fasterer
Let's cut straight to the chase here. I want and need a track bike –- something
akin to an early liquid-cooled 600 sport bike. Suzi, Hon, Yam, Kawa equivalents,
with no bodywork left, and perhaps a tired top-end, would be perfect.
Glass and bodywork in this situation would be a liability. I can rebuild the
top-end of the powerplant and anything resembling a roadworthy state of play
is a waste of time. Worn out or crashed is good, as is anything of the late
eighties gen 600 sport bikes. This is turning out to be a 'wanted' ad, but I'm
sure the Ed will understand.
You see the ST is working out a little too well as a licence-keeping device,
and it's driving me nuts. Previously I played boy racers on occasion with the
warmed-up Daytona Trumpet. There are the tickets to prove it.
The attempt to slow down on the road has been all too successful, with the ST
punishing the latest dive into a corner at speed with a weird front-end drift
that simply spelt large dollar signs. For the repairs to Shaun the Honda and
the Benz it was about to hit. Not a pretty sight. I'm still thanking the rubber
gods for that one, as it had nothing to do with skill.
Comfort, ease of use, low running bills, and enormous luggage-swallowing ability
distinguish the ST. Particularly in a southern Winter. It'll happily fry anything
on four wheels at the red light drags, and a surprising number of two-wheelers.
Width is a disadvantage in heavy traffic, though big handlebars and a 'grunt
city' power delivery make it surprisingly fast. When the chips are down, the
two-piston brakes suck. Owners of ABS versions, with sixer Blackbird stoppers
on hand, have some reason to be smug.
Smug, schmug. I feel a case of the Freds coming on, and am about to call the
guards cos I need a cornering. Without the Luger and vaseline, thanks very much.
All I want to do is go faster and fasterer.
What I'm missing is the lunatic rush of a front end chattering as I stuff up
the entry to a corner, then the momentary relief as the bike tips in despite
me, and the panic as the rear gets gnarly because I registered relief too early
and gave it just a touch too much throttle too early on the exit.
It's physical and very personal, much like sex. You're bound by your abilities
so far as pace and contact are concerned...so a track bike will sort that little
dilemma out on the tar at least. However racing is out of the question.
Why? For a start, I can beat my own pride to death without having a field of
40 like-minded fools assisting. Secondly, I wouldn't be very good at it. Thirdly,
I know bloody well that ten seconds into the enterprise I'd sink everything
I own into making the bike go quicker and still wouldn't win. Lastly, I'm 'fraid,
very frayed. So play-racing at my own pace is the go.
There's also a grudging liking for having something in the shed to play with.
A rider should have a shed, preferably with something in need of fixing...and
a radio, and a toolbox, and a dog or two, and a six-pack of your favourite tipple.
On the latter subject, I'm torn between Lindemans 1994 Pyrus red out of Coonawarra,
and Boag's Premium beer out of Launceston. Pyrus is a bit steep in the price
stakes (though dangerously silky on the tongue), and there's everything right
with a six-buck bottle of Tyrell's Long Flat Red.
While I now refuse to service the day-to-day bike –– that's what mechanics
are for –– the thought of doing a Frankenstein with an unsuspecting
track bike appeals enormously. And would make a nice counterpoint to the slow
restoration of the Hodaka trailie.
There are some advantages to this plan. For a start, Her Ladyship is onto me
so far as excuses for acquiring bikes are concerned, and this represents a challenge.
She has already sent a notice out to the rest of the Lemmings MC, stating that
the following excuses for finding a new bike are not acceptable: It's an investment,
I'm looking after it for a mate, I need a cheap commuter, It matches the curtains,
It followed me home, I've never owned a red one before. Damn!
Let me repeat the wanted ad: Crashed and unroadworthy liquid-cooled 600 sport
bike wanted. Cheap. All offers to the addresses listed below. All I want to
do is go faster and fasterer...and a new excuse.
Guy "Guido" Allen
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