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over the wind. "Hmmm. The little thing
doesn't wiggle in the rain grooves.
Comfortable ride. Nice 'n quiet. A little
vibration; those thick rubber mounted
mirrors get all blurry,';
When he got' back to his office, he
caIled everyone outside. "Lookit how it
wheelies!" he yelled, and proceeded to
demonstrate...about 30 times. Another
staffer did burnouts on her. Another
one rushed up and dow.n ilie street,
slamming on the brakes. After the first
time, her double leading shoe front
brake got too hot to Jock up her front
wheel any more. Then she was subjected
to a cornering session. "Well, it handles
OK, but the suspension is so soft iliat it
settles and you can ground the
sidestand. See? Looky at all the metal I
ground off!" said one rider proudly.
This led to some bickering and they all
had to prove iliat iliey could do more
damage to her side stand than the
previous rider. But it wasn't as easy for
them as the first rider had found it.
Some of iliem couldn't even do it.
After 'they lost interest in iliat, they
started taking her apart. "Seat folds up
but doesn't lock. Side covers snap off."
"Hot donuts. Two foam air cleaner
elements." "Hey," someone piped up.
"Pulling ilie barrells would be a minor
chore, look. You have to pull the spark
plug cover, then ilie heads, and finally
ilie cylinder base nuts. "Yeah, but the
cylinders stay truer iliat way. They
don't distort. "
A t the end of the day she was ridden
home by anoilier staffer. This time it
turned out to be a 30 mile freeway
jaunt. She understood why they didn't
like to slow down. It was a lot of effort
for her to Y'ork back up to the 80 MPH
mark iliat iliey liked to ride at. It took
her time to get back up t'here. On the
oilier hand, she always felt nervous
when her tack needle got paSt her 8500
RPM redline.
When she returned to their office ilie
nex t day she was loaded in a truck and
taken to Mexico. "I'll use it for a pit
rat," said one of 'them.
"Pit rat? Me? What an insult!" she
thought. But she swallowed it.
In her time south of El Border she got
dirty and somebody threw a rock at her
gas tank, denting it. But ilirough it all
she kept her manners and never showed
signs of weakness. Eventually she was
returned to their office and went back
to being buzzed me.rcilessly on the
freeway.
One editor raced her against a Honda
175 and won easily. However, in a race
wiili a 175 Kawasaki she was beaten on
acceleration. She did note iliat she had'
slightly more top end, however. "Dirty
01' dirt bikes," she thought spitefully.
Inevitably, the conversations around
the Cycle News office gravi tated to road
racing.
As usual, the first commen twas,
"N aw, we shouJdn't ough t to do th at. "
That is usually a dead give way to a free
ticket to road race city, but iliey
decided to talk it over a bit more.
"Yeah, sure, she's fair-ta-middlin'
quick, but iliat front brake will destroy
you. That center stand will just throw
you on the ground,"
"Woah, sure the brake isn't super, but
if you take the stand off it will have lots
of .ground clearance. Afterall, my bike
needs a new crank."
"Okay, how about this arguement?
You look ridiculous. You're too big to
ride it."
That was the best reason yet to let
Alice live in the streets, and much to her
relief it was there iliat she stayed.
. "I may have to spend endless nights
being abused on Mulholland Drive, but
anything is better than Carlsbad," she
said.
So, Alice loitered around the canyons
for awhile. Even though she was taking
a fairly severe thrashinl! she bel!an to
enjoy herself immensely. Gettinl! on the
inside of 1,20Ooc choppers with thestand grounding and the tach sho~ing
the better' part of the red line was a
pretty good time. Once or twice she
iliought about employing her rear wheel
to wave back, but decided not to. As
her riders became more accustomed to
her they discovered that she required
somewhat high strung useage, being a
fairly sultery little twin. But she didn't
mind. "Heck," she said, Hwhat's high
living for after all?"
Finally, after putting 300 miles on
her, they began to get ready to take her
back. It was in the car wash that disaster
struck. Despite a rubber boot, her brake
light switch got some water in it, and
when the rear brake was us'ed; her
electrical system got very hot. That was
the last thing she remembered before
she passed out.
She came to find someone fiddling
with her wiring. She'd blown a fuse.
"Can't find anything 'wrong," he said,
"And there's no spare fuse. I'll just have
to hot wire it," But ilie water was still
there, and when he stepped on the
brake again, it got very hot, then melted
t'he wiring in a burst of pain (for her)
and smoke.
•
"Hmmm tt said the rider "So that's
where it ';as." he yanked o~ the wires,
disconnecting t'he switch.
They rode her around for the rest of
the day. Then t'hey sent her home. Only
one rider seemed sad to see her go.
After all, t'hey were all 750 riders and
dirt bike riders. But that one rider
recognized that her nimbleness and 45
MPG gas mileage would be valuable for
practical reasons. It could be useful in
city traffic, he felt and you could ride it
on the freeway. A little bit of him
sighed when she left. Then he climbed
on his 750 and roared off.
"H~" she said, "I'm home."
There was a gasp. uYou survived?"
someone asked.
"Yeah," she said. "They kind of liked
me for a little bike. Which, I guess, is a
compliment even from a bunch a' ham
fisted, hot doggers,"
Little bikes are for big wheelies without high testosterone count.
.
.
Engine was quite wide consid!!ring displacement.
