Posts Tagged ‘Kawasaki’

Definitive Motorbikes of the 1980s

Friday, September 17th, 2010

The eighties in bike culture was a story of Japanese dominance and technical innov­ation. European brands suffered greatly from the explosion in popularity of fast, reliable and colourful machines coming out of the far east, which were rooted in high tech engineering.

The cheapness and access­ib­ility of Jap machines meant a whole new gener­ation in Europe and America was able to get on their bikes — and the prolif­er­ation and broad­ening of choice made biking a much more colourful propos­ition than it had been in previous decades.

For the first time in the eighties, buying into bike culture wasn’t about just being a generic, leather clad ‘biker’. It was about being the sort of biker you wanted to be.

Grease is the Word

Thursday, June 17th, 2010

1964: Boyhood dreams of Grease, rock & denim.

In my dreams I was a British Biker. I was a mod-​​baiting, leather wearing fetishist of all things American. That was the look anyway. But it was only English Iron that would do for my ride. Clip on bars. Pegs way back. Buffed steel tank. In my mind I nicked a featherbed frame from a greaser mate and bolted the Bonneville engine and I was away. Brilliant. The new roads of boom time Britain had me burning from caff-​​to-​​caff, round the gyratory and back again. Ton up to the bass string notes of Eddie Cochrane. That was the life in Levis and leather. Transatlantic exchange meant everything to me. In my imagin­ation at least.

1975: Fizzy — first flights of Freedom

Then I came to consciousness. Reality check. Kenny Roberts was the hero. Forget Sheene. You could squeeze so much power and speed and noise out of the Yamaha FSIE’s 50 ccs. So it seemed to me anyway. I had a Roberts replica complete with wasp-​​like yellow and black paintjob. The boom time was over and there were power cuts and the three-​​day working week. Our estate was seething and humming and buzzing with the sound of my mates and their fizzies and the smell of two stroke and the heavy riffs of Metal. The dole money was enough to keep her going. They’re cool again now — icons of sustain­ab­ility, appar­ently. For us, they were icons of the future.


image: thanks to Shane@ FS1E.net

1985: RDLC Powerbands and driving bans
The miner’s strike was over before it started. And we had scored our first licence. We never cared about politics, anyway. We were more inter­ested in powerbands. And Elsie had a serious powerband. She kicked in hard and it was all you did to keep her lit and in the straight line. Elsie was all about first shunts, broken bones and first loves. If you tried to ride her like a fizzy you were doomed. And we were doomed alright. There was a certain feeling to the Elsie on the roads above the moors, and we were convinced it was all about the liquid.

1990s Kawasaki Ninja 600: knee dragging in middle age
By the mid nineties, you’d fallen out of love and back into lust with two wheels. The Ninja was the thing that did it. Elsie had proven too hard to live with, too riotous to handle. You had to get a job and get into four wheels. You first saw them on the road in Southern France. Well-​​off French kids in tooth­paste leather scraping their knees in the border­lands up in the Pyrenees. All of a sudden everyone was riding sports bikes and I was a flash of green, with that slightly camp pink type on the rear. I left the Yam kink way behind. And the speed. It was the first time I’d travelled signi­fic­antly over the Ton, a guilty secret which had inspired us all in the first place, but when you did it on the M1 you felt the breath of the grim reaper too keenly down the back of your neck.



2010: Back to the Future
I am a British biker. I am a Prius-​​baiting, Belstaff wearing, fetishist of all things British. Now it’s the clothing as well as the bike. I’ve paid Triumph and they’ve given me a recre­ation of the bike I dreamt of and I am away. The roads may be clogged, but I can bypass all that on the weekend. I get up early on a summer Sunday and I am back to those dreams of my youth. But now they are real. I avoid the Ace Café and all that retro nonsense. There’s nothing retro and ‘fashion’ about English-​​bred speed. All I need to do is twist my grip and I leave the last forty years behind. And it feels good.

Image: Deus Ex Machina

Words: Barney Morgan

The Forest Fighters

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

Swedes: outdoor types. Your Swede is not intim­idated by a bit of inclement weather. While the majority of British motor­cyc­lists hibernate (some, it has to be said, to save their bikes from being eaten by road salt), Anders Nordén and his friends are sump-​​deep in fresh powder on three gener­a­tions of lairy motorcycles.

Anders is the founding member of the Forest Fighters, a loose-​​knit, ten-​​strong bike club who get their two-​​wheeled kicks in the most extreme conditions.

As soon as Anders and his mates discovered their fellow countrymen had campaigned hard to ensure Sweden’s lakes remained free of speed limits, they realised this lack of restriction applied when the lake was frozen too.

Sweden has Draconian speed enforcement. Therefore the liber­ation of nailing a bike in a winter wonderland was too much to ignore. And it wasn’t long before Anders had fitted his first gener­ation Suzuki GSX-​​R750 with studded knobbly tyres and learnt how to drift his sportsbike on ice.

The thing is when you ride on the lake,’ Anders explains, ‘especially if you have black ice — which is very seldom because you normally have snow on the ice, you have consistent grip. So you can do what the big guys do in MotoGP. And you can gear up in the middle of a turn when you are going sideways. A quick gear change and the rear keeps spinning. Try to do that on tarmac and you are in orbit.’

And accuracy isn’t an issue. ‘On the lake you can miss the apex by 50m, so what? You end up somewhere else.’

The Scandinavians, Russians and North Americans regularly hold motor­cycle races on frozen lakes, but Anders is pretty sure he’s the first to choose to ride GSX-​​Rs on ice rather than more specific race bikes, or more sensible motocrossers. But even the GSX-R’s lunacy pales next to what some of the Forest Fighters choose to ride. How would you fancy throwing 300-​​plus kilogrammes of six-​​cylinder Kawasaki Z1300 into an 80mph powerslide? Nope, me neither. Perhaps a Gold Wing GL1100 then?

The club do not exclus­ively use old muscle bikes. A brand new Ducati Hypermotard made it onto the lakes this winter, but cutting edge machinery isn’t ideal for frozen lake frivolity.

Most sportbike rims are too wide for the tyres we use,’ says Anders. These are Trelleborg knobblies with over 100 short metal studs to grip the ice. The Forest Fighters know that the tyres disin­tegrate at 130mph… ‘The old GSX-​​R750 rim is narrow, it’s perfect. The Hypermotard is running a 5.5in rear rim. Fit a motocross tyre and the profile is very flat. And the more modern bikes don’t have enough clearance between the tyres we need to use and the radiators, swingarm and bodywork.’
Still, there are very few barriers to pen the Forest Fighters’ insanity. The point is illus­trated clearly by their next plan.

I also scuba dive,’ says Anders. ‘I have been training to do ice diving. Next winter we are going to put up some cones to make a track, then dive under the circuit with a video camera to film from below as the bike is going sideways above us. I think the sound would be awesome.’

Anders rides in summer too, touring to motor­cycle Meccas like the Nürburgring and the Isle of Man, but winter riding is what he loves the most.

My absolute favourite kind of riding is up a ski slope. You can’t have any more fun than that. You need to know the guys who prepare the slope, though. If you hit a skier…’

Photography by Anders Norden