1985 Kawasaki 750Turbo
With the home-made rack, saddlebags, and tank bag,
I was able to take the turbo on long tours of the US. This picture was
taken somewhere deep in the Ozark mountains of Arkansas.
On an obscure dirt track here in the Ozarks, I experienced a worrying moment. I was stopped by the side of the road, taking photographs or relieving myself, probably both, when an old hillbilly in a pick-up truck pulled over. We were all alone with no other traffic, and he seemed a bit odd. When he found out that I was from Australia, he told me that he had visited the place during the war. He then started to cry, saying that I was a long way from home. I found myself wondering why this fact would be a cause for tears unless something bad was about to happen to me (don't psychos act like this before murdering somebody?). My mind danced between the general creepiness of the situation, my uncharacteristic feeling of vulnerability, and the inevitable shotgun tucked away in his truck.
As it turned out, he was only collecting musky dimes (delicious wild grapes) and either had no intention of harming me, or was dissuaded by my charms. The former, I'd guess.
As for the turbo, with
sheepskin under bum It made a surprisingly comfortable touring bikefor
the rider at least. The longest trip I did was with gear and a mate
on the back: Texas to Niagara Falls via the Blue Ridge Parkway and return.
Four days of fast riding each way, with 870 miles (1400Km) on the first
day. The turbo's power was very handy with such a load and got us out
of some tight spots and into trouble with the law.
The pillion seat was small and poorly padded, and my passenger had such a sore rear end by the time we reached Niagara that he couldn't sit in a chair without pain. He refused the return journey
and hitched a ride home in a tin can.
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