I'm on my bike. Not actuallyit parked 10 minutes walk, but in my mind where it is as clear as the memory of childhood. I see the speedometer, which is listed at 100 miles i Timen times. I look at the speedometer, with respect to 7500 rpm. Rpm-area where the gear is a dizzying blur. I look down at footpegsthree inch rubber-coated metal legs suspended above the moving asphalt. Finally, I pull back the whole picture: a simple but ingenious machinemy Suzuki Katana GSX600F.
Before this heavenly journey in February last year, I lived in a four-wheel purgatory, how about the series of Chevrolet, whose name, oddly enough, it all started with the letter C: Chevette, Cavalier, Celebrity. They all had practical appeal, starting with the fact that a family hand-me-downs, they were free. But they are also safe, slow Andina retrospectpathetically boring compared to my bike.
Suzuki GSX600F Suzuki GSXR750 and:
These are the basics of riding a motorcycle. Faster than the beginning of Ferrari or Porsche, my bike is a rocket on wheels. As the speed of building, recognizable figures, the linear blur. It was scary. All of these things to blow up potentially carnivorous road passes under me. If you ride a motorcycle, has a good chance that one day you can delete, but still live with an impassive, the irrational belief that I would never do (Spock never a bike). But why live in danger? If I had a dime for every time I said that carefulor not going to take when buying adviceI'd Volvo.
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