This week a little article that I downloaded from The Soup, it relates the story of One Time fastest motorcycle racer in the world King Kenny Roberts. It is a magical story and one well worth repeating here on the V2Guzzi Blog for you all to experience. So enjoy the start to this weeks blog, given it's Indianapolis MotoGP this weekend.

"A magical night" is how last evening at the Indy Mile could best be described. So much of it was perfect that the night was more like a movie you were somehow transported into than a moment from the real and true world.
Mile dirt track racing transcends cool if done right, 120 mph racing on dirt with men and boys with their tin feet scraping on the ground. A Mile dirt track race at Indy—one of the most legendary dirt circuits in America—ups the intensity and cinematic level yet again. A Mile dirt track at Indy is worth whatever they want for admission at the gate.
Then add in Kenny Roberts.
In the middle of the paddock, Roberts and his usual clan of friends, cronies and hangers on sat at the end of a newer box van. There were, literally, forty or fifty people crowded around KR and THAT BIKE, all standing more or less in the dark, a single afterthought of a bulb lit the scene. Roberts was in the center, holding his own in seemingly a dozen simultaneous conversations at once.
After the heat races, then it was time to ride. Roberts had been training of late, lost some weight, but his ego and omnipresent confidence haven't ebbed a tenth since 1983. He was ready.
What transpired next was otherworldly. Roberts pulled on his leathers, and his crew pushed the bike to the trackside. Roberts' one-time dirt track rival, Mike Kidd, now in charge of DMG dirt track, waved his hand in the air, the crowd cleared and Roberts was pushed off. The bike crackled to life, Roberts throttling it, paddling a few feet forward. Then he was off, throttling the TZ engine as he entered the track.

What transpired next was otherworldly. Roberts pulled on his leathers, and his crew pushed the bike to the trackside. Roberts' one-time dirt track rival, Mike Kidd, now in charge of DMG dirt track, waved his hand in the air, the crowd cleared and Roberts was pushed off. The bike crackled to life, Roberts throttling it, paddling a few feet forward. Then he was off, throttling the TZ engine as he entered the track.

The capacity crowd in the bleachers went bananas. It was an amazing thing to see—how many of these people were even alive when Roberts won his legendary race in 1975? Young, old, riders, fans, they all stood up and screamed as Roberts was introduced and then went out to make some laps.
Sort of like in 1975, Roberts wasn't in the mood for any grab ass, wheelies or waving to the crowd. He stood on it and accelerated hard into turn one, the TZ sounding healthy, if not a little soft. No matter, Roberts wailed the bike into turn one, put it into the soft outer section of the track and gave it the flick.
Simultaneously, thousands of learned eyes bulged and hearts momentarily stopped for a nanosecond—oh sh*t, he's done it now, that bike is going to flick him and hurt him. But, of course, Roberts jacked his body to one side, put his foot down and gassed it, the bike went beautifully sideways and he was in control of it all.
"That alone was worth the flight over the Atlantic," said one European scribe.
Starting cold, Roberts saw no reason to not to go faster. He shrieked down the straights and flicked it even harder and more beautifully than the first time.
Afterwards, he stopped and the crowd screamed, gave him multiple standing ovations. It was an amazing thing, a heart-warming sight, to see people not born when Roberts won the Indy Mile in 1975, Harley guys, and ten year old kids, all in the stands, all on their feet and all screaming in appreciation of King Kenny Roberts.
Valentino was there, of course, and he had been mulling all night whether he too would do a lap on the TZ. While the public word was he was just going to ride a 450 and wave to the crowd, just before Roberts went out, Rossi had decided, screw it, I'll ride it. What the hell, I have 50 points.
Afterwards, Rossi was one of the first people to meet Roberts after he stopped. He congratulated him and stood there like the rest of us, amused and not quite believing this just happened.
As the moment throttled back to normalcy, someone in Rossi's entourage said, 'Okay, Vale (pronounced "Valley"), time to get in the leathers'. Rossi was supposed to ride something, supposedly it's in his contract.
"No," he said. "This night is for Kenny Roberts. I'm not riding."

These guys have forgotten more about brakes than you will ever know.

See the little bevels working hard

Only Suzuka has this light

The 'Brickyard'.

Funnily enough where most Ducati mechanics end up as well.

Speed has many words

Never to old to strap on a Helmet eh?

Does a motorcycle make a noise if there is no one there to hear it?

Fallapa, the 'crazy' one

Hmmm well someone was always going to do a rat bike.

These guys could bend metal in them days.

This is what a modern day side cars looks like when it has its clothes taken from it.

Nice hood ornament

 This is what happens when ugly gets away on you

But from the other side , it's actually OK.

This late model triumph is fucking gorgeous 

 Pipe porn

Now this looks like a junker, but on closer inspection it's only the tank that is crap, the rest of it is in pretty good condition and well restored to this.

This is what happens when you play with your bike in areas that you should not play.  2 things will happen, firstly blue smoke will escape ( and it's nigh on impossible for you a mere mortal to get it back in), the second is you start killing these things, Don't do it, take your bike to an expert

 These goats must be shod with Michelin's surely

The bike in the background is a Titan in case you got that far back.

I say There's nowt like a good wheel stand ....except for a good headbutt.

Some toys are just well..........toys really, and some are biger than others, how nice is this thing

They must have a huge 3D modelling machine

Speed...............................................................................................it's there at the end of your wrist.

This is what you call getting down to work, under the bubble, right hand down, over the tank giving it death.

And that's the ending 

Hot.........................................................

But not enough......................................