The dashed white line in the center of the road turned into a solid white line. The telephone poles were going by faster than I could count. Tunnel vision.
All I could think was, "Oh well, if a car pulls out in front of us, it isn't going to hurt."
It was quite an adrenaline rush. Although that was 30-some years ago. I wouldn't care to do that again.
Modern 600s will stomp all over that old KZ1000.
1978 KZ1000 Z1: 4.8 0-60, 76hp, top speed 132mph, 12.3 quarter mile. Weight: 563lbs wet.
2010 CBR600RR: 3.2 0-60, 118hp, top speed electronically limited to 155mph (it can go faster), 10.92 quarter mile. Weight: 410lbs wet.
In fact, motorcycles of the 80s quickly eclipsed the bikes of the 70s. By the mid-80s, even air cooled 700s were faster and liquid cooled 700s just trounced that old KZ.
My main ride, 1986 Honda Nighthawk 700S: 3.6 0-60, top speed 147mph, 12.35 quarter mile. Weight: 516lbs wet.
Also, FYI, modern 600s will crack 155+ with regularity out of the box; with a chip, pipe and a little tweaking, they can hit 170+ and are starting to knock on the door of 180.
Certain literbikes can crack 200 and the next barrier to fall for them is going to be the ‘250 wall’. 300 is far from unimaginable now.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OGNBBZDRqFo
Black Denim Trousers
The Cheers lyrics
[Words and Music by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller]
He wore black denim trousers and motorcycle boots
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on the back
He had a hopped-up ‘cycle that took off like a gun
That fool was the terror of Highway 101
Well, he never washed his face and he never combed his hair
He had axle grease embedded underneath his fingernails
On the muscle of his arm was a red tattoo
A picture of a heart saying “Mother, I love you”
He had a pretty girlfriend by the name of Mary Lou
But he treated her just like he treated all the rest
And everybody pitied her ‘cause everybody knew
He loved that doggone motorcycle best
He wore black denim trousers and motorcycle boots
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on the back
He had a hopped-up ‘cycle that took off like a gun
That fool was the terror of Highway 101
—— Instrumental Interlude ——
Mary Lou, poor girl, she pleaded and she begged him not to leave
She said, I’ve got a feeling if you ride tonight I’ll grieve
But her tears were shed in vain and her every word was lost
In the rumble of his engine and the smoke from his exhaust
Then he took off like the Devil and there was fire in his eyes
He said, I’ll go a thousand miles before the sun can rise
But he hit a screamin’ diesel that was California-bound
And when they cleared the wreckage, all they found
Was his black denim trousers and motorcycle boots
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on the back
But they couldn’t find the ‘cycle that took off like a gun
And they never found the terror of Highway 101
(More updated version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9VnOnGufr4&feature=related)