In the beginning there was smoke. Lots, and lots of smoke. From the blueish caustic haze emerged a frightening beast - which would drive brave souls toward great peril and great deeds. Through the skillful and mad-capped minds of Joseph Day, Frederick Cock and Dugald Clark we are left to wrestle with this monstrous creation of Oppenheimer-esq proportions. Those who do this willingly, for money are brave mercenaries of the motorbike world. The rest, are either mad, addicted or tainted by the evil power that lurks within these befoulments of the modern world.
I had a RZ 350. It was enough to frighten me to the point of wishing I had brought some diapers along for the ride. It was also enough to thoroughly impress me, and infuse in my blood a love for all things stinking, dangerous and loud. Friends, I am here to share that love and draw attention and appreciation to these hellaciously polluting god-forsaken bikes, which I adore so much. Sadly - these are going the way of Milli Vanilli, quickly spiraling into oblivion and being hatefully debased on every front. Lets show some two-stroke love.
Look forward to some 2-stroke and gp related posts. I realize thats terribly vague - but just stay tuned, you wont be too sad.
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