Kawasaki Mach III's are a topic on Freud's birthday post.
It was 1969 or 1970 and I was in hi skool. A fellow bought a Mach III. It was the fastest bike around and he knew it. He swaggered around and made sure every one else knew about it, too. He would pass my friends with his front wheel in the air. No one could keep up with him. My buddies got to work with heavy figuring and and deep thinking. They came up with a plan. All they needed was someone dumb enough to try it. This is when I enter the picture.
My bike was a 250cc Yamaha DT-1 with K-70 dirt track tires, a high compression head, bigger carb, some port work, and a Schwerma expansion chamber. It was a dirt bike with lights. It was not a fast street bike. It could lean over very far in corners. Its light weight gave it very precise handling. All of this was needed.
The school was on a ridge overlooking the town and there were several city streets connecting it to the rest of the city. All had two lanes in each direction and most had an island to divide the lanes in one direction from those going in another. The street that Mr Kawasaki used to go home was mostly level for a mile, then it dropped and went down the side of the ridge in a long series of S curves. Most were flat camber and some were off camber. A gaggle of fifteen or so school busses also used this route. Mr Kaw loved to do his after school blast on this road.
Mr Kaw had no power advantages on a steep downhill road, my buddies figured. He could not handle corners at speed and especially off camber ones. Our classmates in the school busses would be the witnesses to the whole thing. My role was to ride in a gap between the buses. Mr Kaw would pass me and I would pass him back on the downhill turns.
It took a few days for Mr Kaw, the busses, the curves, and me to be in the proper places at the right times. Mr Kaw suspected nothing. I never tried to race him before. One day he blasted pass a couple of busses. I was in the gap between them and the downhill curves were ahead. I launched from between the busses and headed for him like a little missile. He braked for the corners. I did not. One quick pass and he was left behind. I shot down through the S curves and needled between a couple of busses. He did not have the handling accuracy to follow me. There was Woodminster shopping district at the bottom of the hill. I pulled into a side street and hid.
My buddies plan worked. It was humiliating to be beat by a clown riding a 250 dirt bike. The guy was quieter after that. I was too. The episode scared me into a short bit of sensible behavior. Anyway, this is my Kawasaki Mach III story.