The other day I was considering the web-based Flash animation that’s consuming RAM faster than the rainbow wheel can spin the Volvo needs a new EGR valve low voltage is causing an R1150GS ABS fault replacement LED tail light modules for the Prius are $349 is Wired’s new iPad issue worth four ninety-nine and fifteen minutes to download the Time Capsule just took a dump when the wife needed to go back two drafts for her nearly complete novel why is our spam filter not catching those twenty emails from a formal high-level Iraqi official who needs help disposing of $10,000,000 (ten MILLION American Dollars) Ashton Kutcher does not care that Britney has more Twitter followers what’s a good web-safe organic orange which weights of Neutraface should be delta hinted in what size range what signing authority should we use now that Verisign is owned by Symantec how much is Adobe CS5 going to cost for eight workstations do I really want to install Rosetta when I heard the distinct rattle of my motofanatical friend pulling in the driveway on his latest two-wheeled throwback to a time when our biggest worries were Mutual Assured Destruction and should we have frozen succotash or canned green beens with tonight’s Salisbury steak.
Pert Creamsicle paint belies the mechanical anarchy that defines the analog experience of riding a multi-cylinder two-stroke motorbike.
What a relief to step away from my daily digital quagmire to take a spin on a machine whose throttle response is comparable to Ken Barber ordering a vegetarian meal at a Munich biergarten.
If the elements of the fuel-delivery system could talk to each other, the conversation might go something like this: “Carbs, this is the throttle.” “Yeah, howyoudoin’?” “Good. Listen, the dude just gave me a twist.” “Really?” “Yep.” “Okay, we’re gonna dump some of this gas/oil mixture into the cylinders.” “Yeah? Then what?” “Well, then some of it will blow up, then it’ll suck in a bunch of air then braaAAAAAAAAAAAAAHPOPPOP POp Pop..pop….pop…….pop.” “Jeeezus, what happened?” “Remember the other day when our previous owner spitshined up our seat with Armor All? Well when we hit the power band the new guy just slid right off.” “We’re gonna fall over soon then?” “Yep.”
Posted by Rich Roat on May 30, 2010