In today’s age of Global Warming this, and 'eco friendly' that, I seem to be out of step. No it's not because I use plastic bags, or mix paper and glass, it's because I've been riding a wopping big two-stroke.
Picture a sunrise on a tidy inner-city suburb, everyone's Prius is shimmering in the rising sun light. The children are stirring for school then suddenly there's the 'crack' of a kick start and the piercing sound of a stinky two stroke. Welcome to my street, and the reason to as why my neighbors may hate me.
My brother left his broken down black and gold 1969 Suzuki T500 in my care for awhile, knowing full well I couldn't resist the temptation to fix it. After cleaning the carbs, adjusting the oil pump, replacing the plugs and sorting the timing, it fired up first kick with a blaze of two stroke oil vaporized in the air. Knocking the bike into first had a real 'clunk' to it, but i wasn't expecting much from the 40 year old gear box. I gave it a blip of the throttle, the neighbors by now were staring through the windows, as I pulled away.
Now to compare this bike to modern day motorcycles, is a bit unfair. To me the Titan is far more enjoyable. Yes, it doesn't stop like a GS500, and may not be as reliable as a GS500, but it'll murder it in a straight line. Where as the GS slips the power on from low down and delivers it in a controllable way, wring the Titan's neck and it will want to rip your head off. The rumor that circulated in the USA about the Suzuki and Yamaha's equally potent RD was that the Japanese exported the big two strokes as revenge for Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Such was the toll on inexperienced motorcyclist from oil breathing Japanese monsters .
So with that in mind I'd try a bout of playing traffic light grand prix. The Titian doesn't require any feathering of the clutch, but drop the lever in the power band and you'll leave the rear spinning. It just comes on and you are away. Slap it into too high of a gear, and it won't struggle. Contrary to popular belief, you don't need to rev the buggery out all two strokes to get moving. Down low the Titan belches a 'bwwaaaar' before becoming a scream above 4000rpm. The induction noise wins out on a close battle between the smoking exhausts and the wind invading my helmet. And that's just fine, cause as I'm trying to get my chin on the tank I started to wish all bikes gave me this sensation.
The long swing-arm flexes something fierce around the sweeping bends, but the frame seems entirely predictable in which piece of road it will spit you down. There's a hint of understeer, but rolling on the throttle and getting the weight on the rear takes it out, giving you some delightful cornering.
When I pulled up to work at the local pub I had a very large smile across my face. It's one of those machines that give you an event, not just transportation.
Disembarking, some one who must have seen my grin, comes up to me and asks, "do you enjoy polluting? It's spewing smoke everywhere, you should have a hard look at yourself." I tried to explain the joy's of motorcycling and indeed two strokes, but he wouldn't have a bar of it. I paused and asked what vehicle is his daily driver?
"A Land Rover."
I walked away with a clean conscience, and with that aroma in the air only burnt oil can create...
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