I exited Laguna’s T-11 too low in the RPM, while waiting, I watched a modern 1000 twin accelerate away, shrinking in size. When the power hit, I was instantly traveling at the same speed as him. Shifted to second and was instantly right behind him. Third and I would have passed him but for the world rushing past so quickly I lost track of where exactly I was on the track and didn’t want to crest turn one in the dirt.
Bruce Lind’s 1975 TZ750 has an R6 front end, swingarm, brakes and wheels. Because of this, it’s vastly more stable, more predictable and less risky to race than the original version. But it maintains the you can’t move at all ergonomics of the it’s era. The rider was part of the chassis, if he moved to hang off the chassis would be upset. The result is that you move forward when the bike moves forward, there is no separate sensation no sliding back in the seat no physical manifestation of the extraordinary acceleration. Only the rush of the scenery informs you of the speed, like a starship jumping into Warp. The same is true when slowing you are so low and so trapped in the seat that there is no force on your arms as you brake. Oh, and the sound is wicked.
Someone sent me this candid photo. I’m describing what it feels like to ride that bike. Note the look in my eyes and the smirk on my face. I was genuinely concerned before the race; the cramped riding position is smaller than my 2000 TZ250. Ergonomics was just a word in ‘75. It’s difficult to ride but ridiculously satisfying. You have to know precisely what you want to do and where you want to do it. Then you ask nicely but firmly for the bike to agree.