That's the plus of the Rowdy Audi over the Might STi. The STi did everything it could with flare and great proclamations. The RS3 does more, more easily, but without all that flare. The RS3 is 400hp in a small eco-sedan.
Do you all get “challenged” at stop lights?
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That's the plus of the Rowdy Audi over the Might STi. The STi did everything it could with flare and great proclamations. The RS3 does more, more easily, but without all that flare. The RS3 is 400hp in a small eco-sedan.
I drive a Cadillac XTS V-Sport Platinum. Complete sleeper. I had a mid 80's Camaro pull up next to me at a red light yesterday. Big hood bulge, hot cam, etc. Deep loping, rumbling idle. I left him behind only using half throttle and half boost. Bet he was surprised.
KevinLewis
Well-known member
It happened once but i got defeated.Or do you all get “challenged” at stop lights?
Never have I had so many idiots try to get me to race. I just watch them speed off into the distance.
They must think my FJR is fast
12tinker
Well-known member
sure miss my '74 914 and would have loved to slip in a 6. You know Ferdinand Porche had some influence on some of Yamaha engine design.
Oops. Spoke too soon. Did a wrap a couple of weeks ago and now flashed to stage 1/93. The "ticket me red" (instead of white) means less of a sleeper.
That's the plus of the Rowdy Audi over the Might STi. The STi did everything it could with flare and great proclamations. The RS3 does more, more easily, but without all that flare. The RS3 is 400hp in a small eco-sedan.
So do I, until I start getting close to Sturgis.
Years ago, 1968, I was stationed in Barstow, CA. Buddy had a '64 Pontiac Grand Prix convertible he had bought from a friend. We had gone down to the local U-Haul to mount a trailer hitch, then drive up to Oakland to tow a '35 Ford pickup truck back to base. Afterward, we were in town to drop off the trailer hitch when we stopped at a red light. A couple of kids in a new Camaro pulled up beside us and raced their engine. The light changed and we left them in the proverbial dust. After we slowed, they flipped us the bird when they passed.
The Grand Prix? Not the usual Grand Prix. The car had few options: no power steering, a manual four speed on the floor, and the engine. Instead of the stock 389, Steve's friend had taken a 421, bored it out to 454 cu. in., installed 454 heads on it, installed a four barrel the size of a small doghouse on it, and stuffed it back into the car. And remember, this was before all the Federally mandated pollution control equipment. Sleeper, indeed.
Me, on the FJR? Nope. I have heard too many horror tales of a damaged second gear, even on a five speed. I just smile, shake my head, and gesture, "After you."
I think my YouTube algorithm is slightly skewey
In TX we called that "hook 'em unicorns".Yep, just not using all their fingers
HAPPY JACK
Member
My favorite is to rev up at light and watch my opponent burn out with the cops behind him. I always respectfully change lanes when passing the traffic stop and of course a cursory nod
Challenged? No, not really. But I do get into a lot of conversations with folks in the car next to me. Last fall, early Sunday morning, I pull up to a stoplight in the left turn lane. State Trooper pulls up to go straight and since no one else pulled up, we sat there through a light cycle shootin' the breeze.
Not yet on the FJR, but a few times with my Bandit, one time a Mercedes tried racing me and was full throttle and I was just getting on and off it to mess with him and he had the biggest grin! Another with a brand new Corvette, I think that year they had 400 hp and I schooled him.
But what used to happen a lot when riding old Japanese bikes a lot was Harley riders racing me, probably thought the older smaller bikes were going to be the only thing they could beat but every time I destroyed them, even with a passenger sometimes. And sometimes without any warning and not getting a quick launch.
But what used to happen a lot when riding old Japanese bikes a lot was Harley riders racing me, probably thought the older smaller bikes were going to be the only thing they could beat but every time I destroyed them, even with a passenger sometimes. And sometimes without any warning and not getting a quick launch.
Jamming Jimmy
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Why do Harley Digglesons think they are fast?
The newer ones have a boatload of torque. But you have to spend $30K to get one.
Toecutter
What would DoG do?
I always liked to let them think they were keeping up through first gear, then power-wheelie away once I shifted to second, lol!
hppants
Well-known member
Well.... first, they ARE fast. ANY motorcycle 500 cc and up is fast compared to most cars/trucks.
Also, all riders (and people) equate noise with speed/power. If the motor is that loud, it MUST be fast. And Harley (cruiser) riders buy this myth hook, line, and sinker. A lot of FJR riders buy it to, BTW. But alas, the butt dyno lies. It lies like a rug.
Something I wrote on another forum about 18 months ago:
"On Saturday morning, as I pull out of the gas station, a pirate running an unfaired, big-raked pirate ship passes buy. Dude knows I'm right there, but won't look my way. At the traffic light 100 yards away, I stop behind him. Of course, that is my only choice because Capt. Jack plucks his fat ass in the center of the lane, ensuring no chance for Pants to pull beside him. Heaven forbid, I might glance his way and say "good morning, have a great ride today". Oh no, we can't have that compromising his reputation as a bad ass in the thriving community of Youngsville, Louisiana. While behind him, I notice the back of his leather vest says "Prospect". Ah... now I get it.
The light turns and I let out the clutch and hold back. There is traffic in both lanes and in general, Pants rides like a grandpa in the city limits. These people are stupid and they are always out to kill ya. However, our beardless wonder in front seems dead set to either prove to me who's boss, kill himself, or in the more likely choice, .... both. He revs his shit to about 500 below redline (3,500 rpm, give or take), dumps the clutch, and then starts what can only be described as a Watusi on two wheels. He's weaving left, ducking right, shifting left, bobbing right - trying to run ahead of the traffic; all along hoping to keep the blood from running out of his hands as he clutches the ape hangers with all his might. His open exhaust (goes without saying, really) are so friggin loud that I am "feeling" them in my chest, and of course hearing them over my ear buds and music. But of course, this is how he wants it. EVERYONE must know he is the biggest, baddest cowboy in the land. On a steel horse he rides, wherever and however he wants. Moreover, he wants ME to know this - as evident by his constant glancing into his mirrors to see (ensure) that Senoir Rice Burner is where he belongs - in the back sucking his gas fumes.
Me? I'm enjoying the show in perfect lane position and following distance. No point in shifting lanes - it's a risk that has no reward. All of this traffic isn't going anywhere, and the drag race would simply end at the next traffic light.
We get to the end of the surface street, where it meets the highway. In a stroke of luck, the car to my left broke off, and I was able to shift into the left lane first in line at the light. Right next to Pirate Shitshow, who is somehow convinced that his bike is loaded up with carbon, because he is incessively reving it while stopped at the light. To be clear, we only have one choice - both of us must turn left. We will be turning onto a 3-lane divided highway that is wide open. We will have at least 3 miles of uninterrupted highway to proceed north toward wherever our destination will be.
I come to a stop and put my feet down. Immediately, I turn toward the Pirate, nod my head to him, and raise my right hand in a "hello" gesture. He pauses momentarily as if to contemplate his options. On the one hand, he's looking directly at me. He can't sit behind the excuse that he didn't see me. But on the other hand, I'm riding a crotch rocket sewing machine. What if a member of the gang that I'm trying to impress and let me in sees me waiving at Rice Boy over there? What will these fine innocent motorists waiting behind us think? What about my reputation? The economy? The price of tea in China? Decisions Decisions.
So he compromises is principles and nods to me. Then he snaps his throttle twice at me. Not it's Pants' turn to think. What did that mean? I know his bike is running rich - I'm still a bit dizzy from smelling his exhaust for the past 3 miles. But what else is he telling me? Is he declaring his motorcycle, the one with the motor design that originated and has been largely unchanged for over 60 years.... superior? Is he challenging me to something? Is he deaf from years of not wearing ear plugs under the shaving sink otherwise known as a helmet? Is he making a non-verbal statement about our virility (which BTW, I will have no choice but to concede, since that ship sailed 2 months after my youngest was born 25 years ago)?
What pray tell is he telling me? Aw f@$k it, it's time for Pants to let his FJR do the talking.
The light turns green, I lower my helmet shield, and I launch. I make the left hand turn about 1/8" before the pegs scrape. She straightens out and I let her have it. If you're gonna be a squid, choose your times and don't look back. I run her up to the redline and shift to 3rd. Still pulling, I glance in the right mirror. All I see is a dot that is getting smaller and smaller and smaller. I get to something near triple digits and I back off. I'm caught up with traffic now, and I better calm down, lest I make a dumb ass mistake that is exponentially larger than the one I just made.
Your prospects are not looking too good, my friend...."
Kind of funny story from just a couple of nights ago... We were at the Orlando Ace Cafe Thursday night bike gathering and they had a Dyno test for $40.
One guys with his '20 or '21 Harley (whatever model with a 110 on the side I believe) went in with his bike that was fully decked out and loud, as usual... Everyone watching the runs screen on the side.
Highest score was 83hp and 92 ft lb torque. And thats still not accounting for the additional weight of all the bells and exhausts while trying to move on the road.
At the end the tester talked to him about the result and everyone in the side lines was listening. His final words where "...loud does not make fast or five it that much..." most who were listening broke out in laughter. The guys was not happy. All that money in that bike and rather poor performance. He should have put the money into performance accessories rather than all that chrome... But it looks cool
One guys with his '20 or '21 Harley (whatever model with a 110 on the side I believe) went in with his bike that was fully decked out and loud, as usual... Everyone watching the runs screen on the side.
Highest score was 83hp and 92 ft lb torque. And thats still not accounting for the additional weight of all the bells and exhausts while trying to move on the road.
At the end the tester talked to him about the result and everyone in the side lines was listening. His final words where "...loud does not make fast or five it that much..." most who were listening broke out in laughter. The guys was not happy. All that money in that bike and rather poor performance. He should have put the money into performance accessories rather than all that chrome... But it looks cool
It's a good thing I went to the can before reading that, otherwise I'd have surely pissed myself! There's nothing funnier than the truth and there's no emoji that could convey my enjoyment of that tale! Well done and thanks for sharing.
Nice story hppants!
One story I have:
Sitting at a light on my 78'GS550, nicknamed the beater, but it's tuned up and jetted right, Harley pulls up in the next lane. I look over and give the nod and wave with my left hand, nothing. Light turns green and the we both take off, me rather normally not revving clutch already fully out, not prime launch given the small displacement. But Harley guy hammers it and starts to pull away so even not it my power band or ready put my hammer down and embarrass the crap out of this guy. Guess I looked like easy pickings but that loud exhaust will get you nowhere.
One story I have:
Sitting at a light on my 78'GS550, nicknamed the beater, but it's tuned up and jetted right, Harley pulls up in the next lane. I look over and give the nod and wave with my left hand, nothing. Light turns green and the we both take off, me rather normally not revving clutch already fully out, not prime launch given the small displacement. But Harley guy hammers it and starts to pull away so even not it my power band or ready put my hammer down and embarrass the crap out of this guy. Guess I looked like easy pickings but that loud exhaust will get you nowhere.
I never street race any of my vehicles.
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