The scariest bike I've ever ridden, by FAR, is the 1982 Husqvarna 250CR. That is, as many of you know, my primary bike at this time. Now, I don't have much experience with "normal" 125s, so I'm reluctant to say it's got a 125 powerband, but I will say that it feels like it has less low-end than the '67 120, and very roughly the top-end of the 390 Husky (until sixth gear, that is). But the funny thing is, there's nothing whatsoever between the two. Roll it on at low revs and there's almost nothing to speak of, and this continues until a certain RPM. For all I know, that RPM is 6418, but it really is that specific. As soon as you reach that precise point, it cuts loose and unleashes the Dogs of War. If you watch some of my riding videos, you can clearly hear this at work, the bike goes "brrrrWAH, brrrrWAH" as you shift through the gears. Of course, that's a short-shift, if you want to, you can keep it in Blitzkrieg mode but you're apt to run out of space really quick.
And that brings me to the next little problem. The brakes. They don't work. I'm guessing at this point that the peanut gallery is thinking, "Of course they don't work, they're old drums!" Let's put it this way, comparing the drums on the 390 to those on the [newer] 250, is like comparing the brakes of an F1 car, to a gentle tug on the reins of a horse in the wild west. It's going to take a while. The front brake allows you to pull the lever all the way to the grip, without locking the front wheel. The rear brake will lock gladly, but it won't slow the bike. To give it the benefit of the doubt, however, the rear drum is located right next to the shocks, which means that it's constantly bathed in oil.
Ah yes, the shocks. The dual Ohlins found on the Husky are supposed to have three main components: the spring, shock absorber, and reservoir. The springs work fine, obviously. I mean, how in the hell do you mess that up? The shock absorber, for some reason that we are trying to determine, leaks oil so badly, that after five minutes of hard riding, all dampening is completely gone, and oil can be seen dripping from everything rear of the swingarm pivot. Including the brake. And there is quite a lot of oil indeed to be lost, because each shock has a reservoir with over 100PSI of air pushing oil into the shock so that it can be blasted out all over everything.
All this combines to make a bike that likes to explode forward in great bursts of insanity, spin the rear wheel up to jet-engine-like speeds as it hops over every bump and groove in the dirt, and then take about sixteen miles to haul down to a stop. But, once the shocks get fixed (which they will be by the time the next season starts) the bike should be a thing of greatness. I question whether the brakes will ever be considered good anytime this decade, but I can live with that. It'd be horrible for racing, but I don't do racing, so I've usually got plenty of room to stop. And the engine, while kind of weird to get used to, is actually great. It allows you to cruise around with the most mild, easy-to-control power on the face of the planet, OR take off at a million miles an hour and keep up with a bike half-again its size. It performs both functions well, you just have to know which one you're looking for. And that's why I completely fell in love with the big yellow axe-murderer the last time I rode it.
To hear the weird powerband in action, fast-forward to the 5:30 mark in the following video.
Going Ballistic with Tobyeo
