Ari Rankum
NAFO Karting Champion, 2012
So, yesterday, I walked out to the bike and there was a Harley warming up with the rider standing next to it, adjusting assless chaps, do-rag, and matte finish whitewater helmet. Pedestrians were coming, and I knew what that meant. I started my bike and it was inaudible next to the stumbling two-lung from the motor company. Sure enough, with the audience, I mean pedestrians, approaching, it was time to make sure the Harley didn't stall out. So my fellow rider threw a leg over his hog and gave it a series of Braaaps. Luckily, the third one was a charm, saving the stall, or at least he stopped doing that.
Then he propped the bike up off its stand. Something happened, but I didn't have the mechanical ear to hear it, because the rider had to issue 5 more braaaps to correct it. I was getting concerned. He hadn't rolled even one radian, and he had already issued more than 10 corrective inputs to the throttle. When he let the clutch out and started to make progress out of the paddock, I decided to start the count over, with the interest of determining how many braaaps it would take to make it out of the parking lot. I stopped counting at 10.
Then I began to wonder how many braaaaps I would need between getting on the bike and clearing the parking lot. I was careful to count each time I needed to rev the engine with the clutch pulled in. I was surprised at how many it took. Man I hope that guy made it home on his Harley. Something was clearly wrong with it. My count was zero.
Then he propped the bike up off its stand. Something happened, but I didn't have the mechanical ear to hear it, because the rider had to issue 5 more braaaps to correct it. I was getting concerned. He hadn't rolled even one radian, and he had already issued more than 10 corrective inputs to the throttle. When he let the clutch out and started to make progress out of the paddock, I decided to start the count over, with the interest of determining how many braaaps it would take to make it out of the parking lot. I stopped counting at 10.
Then I began to wonder how many braaaaps I would need between getting on the bike and clearing the parking lot. I was careful to count each time I needed to rev the engine with the clutch pulled in. I was surprised at how many it took. Man I hope that guy made it home on his Harley. Something was clearly wrong with it. My count was zero.