My last bike was an 850 Norton.
It was just waiting out in my garage for a chance to kill me...
My dad had a Kawasaki 650 - he said every time he’d crank the throttle he swore he could hear the engine say “kill you, kill you” -funny.
My last bike was an 850 Norton.
It was just waiting out in my garage for a chance to kill me...
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Post of the Day! Post of the Day!
I know exactly what you mean: I had a 750 P11 and every time I took that thing out on the road, it did everything it could to kill me.
Its most evil trick was to instantly flick around 180 degrees if you leaned into a turn too steeply. Very unsettling to suddenly find yourself facing the cars behind you, usually up on the rear wheel in an involuntary wheelie.
Another time, a sudden gas tank leak sprayed gas all over the cylinders and I was enveloped in a white cloud of gas vapor on the freeway at 70 miles an hour!
That Norton was handsome, tall, and accelerated like nothing else with that gorgeous mellow Brit roar - but I got rid of it before it finished me off!