I've owned so many...
that it's the trips and events that make individual bikes stand out in memory, not the bikes themselves.
'85 Yamaha RZ500R, square four two-stroke, Edmonton Alberta to Las Vegas to San Diego, then all around Mulholland, up the West Coast Hwy to BC, up the Fraser Valley to Jasper Alberta then home.
'85 Suzuki RG500Gamma, (yeah I was diggin' the big two-stroke MotoGP replicas, then they got made illegal...I loved the sound, like a dumpster full of chainsaws...) circumnavigation of the Great Lakes, starting and ending in Toronto.
'87 Suzuki GSXR-750. Maybe the best of the original light-makes-right air/oil cooled Gixers. Trip down through the Poconos, the head, the tail, hot-tubbing with Pennsylvanians. Fun.
'89 Kawasaki ZX-7. Only bike (aside from dirt-bikes I had as a kid, Hodaka, Can-Am) that I ever crashed. Highside on a road the locals call rattlesnake near Hamilton. Caught a bit of gravel on the apex, rear slid, when it bit again, it just chucked me over the other side. As I was climbing up out of the ditch, the only thing I could think was "Oh my poor Bike, awww, damn." I had some rash and a broken collar-bone.
'89 Yamaha FZR400R. Rare. The only track-only bike I've ever owned. All those tiny cylinders revving to 14,500 made the most incredible sound, but let's face it, at less than 12,000 it couldn't pull the skin off a rice pudding. But at Mosport and Mont Tremblant, this bike taught me conservation of momentum, the difference between DOT tires and slicks (aside from the price-tag), and that racing has a place, that what we do on the streets is just for fun.
Must go , continue later.
