You didn’t have to be completely mad to get the most from your Eighties two-stroke but it helped, and while I enjoyed virtually all that the Land of the Rising Sun had to offer, fear and cost kept my ambitions under 350cc.
The RD LC was the pinnacle of oil-burning screamers in my world; I would look on in awe and admiration at the brave souls who wanted to replicate their GP idols on the race-rep strokers.
It was all fairly wild, an experience that would begin with the gentle ‘pop-pop’ at idle, often followed by leisurely progress as the revs climbed quite slowly.
With the pilot lulled into a false sense of security, the rising engine note warned of impending madness when all hell broke loose in a thick blue haze as the front wheel did its upmost to reach for the skies.
Read more in July’s edition of CBG
