Catbird
DT250 epidemic - Patient Zero
Hey guys!
Name's Catbird, hailing from south and west of Chicago. I've been a greasemonkey since I was old enough to read the numbers on the side of a wrench, but up until now it's been pretty exclusively automotive.
I've got buckets and buckets of experience with 4-strokes both modern and antique, having messed around with a couple of endurance cars (a fox-body Mustang and a turdlike Accord EX), and my daily driver for the time being is a 1965 Pontiac Tempest that, by now, causes some to remember that song about the Cadillac Coupe DeVille by Johnny Cash.
The whole thing must be hereditary... My father is the one who started this whole mess. He's been elbow-deep in just about every machine he's ever owned, possessed by a Tim-Taylor-esque need for *more power* in all things, up until recently where he's managed to become fixated on this idea of fuel economy.
In keeping with logic, he retreated, and I followed, to the penultimate compromise:
Bikes.
I've been screwing around on a Yamaha DT250 that looks like it belongs underneath a cigar-smoking, panama-hat and floral-shirt clad cocaine farmer in Columbia as he patrols his fields since I was about 16 or 17, and I figure it's about time to start getting down and dirty with two wheels.
I'm here to make some new friends, gather some new ideas, ask some dumb questions and have some fun.
Name's Catbird, hailing from south and west of Chicago. I've been a greasemonkey since I was old enough to read the numbers on the side of a wrench, but up until now it's been pretty exclusively automotive.
I've got buckets and buckets of experience with 4-strokes both modern and antique, having messed around with a couple of endurance cars (a fox-body Mustang and a turdlike Accord EX), and my daily driver for the time being is a 1965 Pontiac Tempest that, by now, causes some to remember that song about the Cadillac Coupe DeVille by Johnny Cash.
The whole thing must be hereditary... My father is the one who started this whole mess. He's been elbow-deep in just about every machine he's ever owned, possessed by a Tim-Taylor-esque need for *more power* in all things, up until recently where he's managed to become fixated on this idea of fuel economy.
In keeping with logic, he retreated, and I followed, to the penultimate compromise:
Bikes.
I've been screwing around on a Yamaha DT250 that looks like it belongs underneath a cigar-smoking, panama-hat and floral-shirt clad cocaine farmer in Columbia as he patrols his fields since I was about 16 or 17, and I figure it's about time to start getting down and dirty with two wheels.
I'm here to make some new friends, gather some new ideas, ask some dumb questions and have some fun.