My first bike was a 1969 Kawasaki Mk III 500 cc two stroke triple, with a full fairing. Supposedly the world's fastest production motorcycle. What did I know about bikes? It was well-taken care of, had low mileage, good tires and the price was right. What was to not like?
Bought on Saturday, I rode from San Diego to LeMoore Naval Air Station the next day, a distance (as I recall), of 500 miles. Hellofatrip for a beginner! Especially in retrospect.
Most uncomfortable bike: "ringy-dingy," drum brakes, didn't turn, uncomfortable seating position, ran out of gas every 100 miles. But God! Was it fast!
I was the world's most polite motorcycle driver that day. I rode like every automobile driver was my mortal enemy. Had to stop and stretch every 50 miles, and of course, fuel (and oil) up every 100 miles.
I knew the bike was quick, but didn't exercise that particular aspect of it's character that first day. Too busy dodging cars and being polite!
The most frightening part (I was too dumb to be frightened on the FReeway!) of my trip occurred about two miles from the NAS LeMoore gate -- it was night (oh, yes! The trip took me about 10 hours -- I was sore for a week after I got there!), and I was booming down the homestretch at about 65 MPH on a two lane road, tired, dusty, dirty, hungry, etc., etc., and saw something in the road up ahead -- there was a freaking horse smack in the middle of the road. Good thing the bike had a halogen bulb and I was on high beam, othewise this budding jet jockey would have been history that night!
Suffice it to say that I learned two things about the bike in a matter of seconds: how to panic stop a bike without falling off, and that the Kawa brakes were not worth a shit!
I did not hit the horse. Several days later, fortified with the prospect of my first solo flight in the A-4, I decided to see what the world's fastest bike was made of. There is a ten mile straight-as-an-arrow road from the BOQ to the Flight Line at LeMoore, and I stopped the bike (at dawn -- I am no fool, dammned if I was going to go fast on a two lane road at night, at least for a while, anyway!), snicked it into first gear, let the clutch out and hammered on it.
Not much happened until the bike "came on the pipe" at about 5,000 RPM, then a lot began to happen: the front wheel came off the ground at 7,000 and carried til I shifted to second at 9,300 RPM (redline), it hit the ground briefly in second, I think (-- Hell, I was just holding on waiting to see what was going to happen next), and then came off again. Shift to third, same thing. Shift to fourth, same thing.
The bike, despite the downforce the full fairing had to be exerting, would carry the front wheel in each gear from roughly 7,000 to 8,500 RPM. And, it was rock steady (remember, we are going in a straight line).
I had to finish this dance, so I shifted to fifth, and the front wheel came off the ground again! At that point I lost my nerve (I never saw red line in fifth) and began to slow down. Never looked at the speedometer, and never did that trick again. Once was enough.
Happy ending. I finally learned how to ride the bike and not get so beat up. The trip from LeMoore to San Diego after my A-4 transition training was over was much more fun and hugely satisfying. I kept the bike for about 1 1/2 years and throughly enjoyed riding it -- sold it only because I was going on cruise and planned to buy a new one when my sea duty tour ended. But that is another story.
Final observation: I had a buddy who was an ardent dirt-biker, and a very good rider. He delighted in riding my KAWA around on the rear wheel. He would bring the front end off the ground immediately and could hold it off through three gears, or to roughly 75 MPH. I never tried that stunt -- my cojones just were not big enough!
My next bike may be a Harley, but before I buy it, I am going to throughly check out the Honda Valkyrie. Heard one once with six straight exhaust pipes, no mufflers, and just loved the sound -- mechanical music to my ears. Can imagine what it would sound like with small reverse cone megaphones on it. Plus the owner said it was a comfortable bike to ride.
If you never signed this great story, I think I still would have known who had written it. &;-)