I have never really been into motor bikes. In my twenties I toyed with the idea of getting a bike purely to take care of my transportation needs. My uncle talked me out of it and helped me get my first car. I think it was a wise move. In my parent’s day motor cycles were big. I mean the actual bikes were big. With engines over 350ccs the government of the day decided, probably because of insurance costs, they had to go. They raised the registration fee (Insurance rates) to a prohibitive level and that forced the big bikes off the road. In a very short time virtually all big motor cycles disappeared off the streets of Sydney (Australia). The Japanese manufacturers took advantage of the situation and aggressively marketed small sporty bikes that captured the imagination of the youth market. The advertisements on the top forty radio shows were not too subtle with their catch phrase “get something hot and throbbing between your legs …. hop on a Honda”. Soon the soundscape of the beach side suburbs was dominate by the mosquito buzz of 90cc Suzukis, Hondas, etc. The newer, smaller, bikes ran on a thimble full of gas and cost next to nothing to register and insure. They were no less dangerous. One could argue that accident rates probably increased. This was in the days of no helmets or protective gear. It was not uncommon to see a bike belting down the beach front road in Manly, manned by youth clad only in shorts, T-shirt and flip-flops. I lost a number of friends to deadly street crashes. There was no particular street racing culture to blame. It was just the nature of the beast – light, fast and no protection. There was a racing scene but it centered around flat track racing at one of the local arenas. I don’t know if that style of racing exists anymore. Dirt bikes probably fill that particular need for excitement these days. In flat track racing there was a simple formula. Assemble a number of bike riders on a circular cinder track and let them go at it. It was cheap, spectacular and any one with the nerve “could give it a go”. The visual spectacle of a stack of bikes roaring around a track in what was basically a controlled skid with the riders sticking their inside his leg out to slide on the cinder track and prevent the bike sliding out from under them had great visual appeal. It was crazy but bike fans loved it. Compared to the races on the Isle of Man it was positively sane.
Even back in those days I knew about the Isle of Man TT Race. One of my uncle’s employees was killed on the Isle of Man track and when you view the following videos you can see how that could happen. So called “Crotch Rockets” have their appeal but this activity is purely insane.
and now the save of the year…………
It doesn’t get any more extreme than this……..