Bought as a bone-stock leftover model a few years back, my '97 Suzuki TL1000S had, over the course of three summers, been adorned with an NBA salary's worth of high-performance upgrades. The rear rotary damper was junked in favor of an $800 Ohlins shock, and the forks received a full upgrade from the suspen-sion gurus at Race Tech. Aftermarket brakes, rearsets, airbox and exhaust mods took the big Suzook twin--and my bank account--to an even more serious level of commitment.
But the kid who'd bought the bike from me a year or so ago never saw the need for the track-oriented upgrades I'd made. When he called to sell it back to me recently, he actually laid into me for "wasting so much cash on nothing." "This bike's a scrub," he told me without blinking. "You should have at least polished the frame, hooked the wheels up with some day-glow paint or busted out a neon kit."
Say what? Didn't this New Jack appreciate how well the V-twin hung with newer bikes through a tight set of twisties? Or were the subtleties of six-piston brakes, braided Kevlar hoses and fancy European steering dampers completely lost on this boulevard cowboy?
I guess so.
I wasn't too surprised--this wasn't the first time I'd noticed a different take on just what constitutes a valid custom sportbike. There's a new school of street riders coming up, and for them a good ride means flashing down the four-lane on a Gixxer and pulling stares with chrome wheels, a bling-bling paint job and a howling exhaust can. What do these guys care about carving seconds off their lap times at the local race circuit?
Motorcycling's old guard might shake their heads at the sight of a sportbike with its front wheel flying six feet in the air, but there's an ever-growing number of riders--an entire generation raised on the mad style and devil-may-care athleticism of the X Games--who would rather pull stunts in an empty parking lot than discuss miles-per-gallon figures and Grand Prix points standings.
Haven't caught this new vibe yet? Don't worry--you will. Extreme riding teams like Miami's Triple X-Treme and Michigan's Driving to Endanger are racking up sales figures for their homemade, no-budget stunt videos that would impress even a jaded Hollywood executive. Groups like Ohio's infamous Starboyz are printing money staging weekend stunt shows and sportbike festivals at dragstrips everywhere from Kingston, Jamaica, to Dallas. Corporate sponsor-ship of these events, and crowds in the serious five figures, show there's more at work here than just youthful indiscretion and outlaw attitude.
Need more proof? Keith Code, founder of the California Superbike School and perhaps the world's best-known teacher of motorcycle roadracing skills, has also caught this extreme sportbike vibe. Code recently launched a series of "On One Wheel" wheelie schools--created, Code says, because students in his California Superbike Schools demanded them.
Instead of being laughed off the racetrack, Code's wheelie schools have sold out months in advance. The average age of the students is--hold on to your bifocals, fellas--a stately 44 years old! Mid-life crisis? Maybe. But just as likely, these riders are aware that fun has no expiration date. Maybe these stunt kids are on to something here.
Funky, fur-covered fairings, polished aluminum frames, NOS kits and impromptu bike shows in the parking lot at the local Hooters may not be your gig. But motorcycling is a multifaceted sport with room for all of these disparate disciplines and more; I've seen touring riders wave a spirited thumbs-up to kids on tricked-out Honda CBR900 streetfighters. I've also seen street riders who've made their bones stoplight drag racing for pink slips and a badass rep turn out to have crazy skills when they take their bikes to the track.
As for me and my old Suzuki? I bought it back. It's still set up for track days and backroads corner carving, and it will likely stay that way. But maybe the kid was right. Maybe it would look even cooler cutting an apex with a neon strobe kit and a set of polished rims. Climb on. Let's get funky.