While trying to shift through the gears, test the brakes, and carefully spin it up to speed, he surged forward with each revolution. He taunted me. “Come on girly-man,” he sneered, “Is that all you’ve got?” He pressed further, “How about some real speed?” Then demanded, “Let’s go!” And I just hung on for the ride.
Like a top fuel dragster, he burned through oxygen faster than I could supply it.
He may look like a pleasant enough fellow…this freakish frankenbike. But he’s a tough task master. A real monster, this one.