WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

You might have heard the phrase to Suspend Belief.

"Suspension of disbelief" is the willing act of accepting a story's premise as real, even if it's unrealistic or fantastical, to fully enjoy the story. 

Like Dr. Seymour O’Life’s Bigfoot and other out-there stories. Never let science and facts get in the way of a good tale.

So, in my seemingly never-ending quest to make my 2019 Kawasaki Z900RS handle somewhere close to Shira's 21-year-old Honda 919, I have added, subtracted, and upgraded a lot on a bike that was to be a Sunday-only machine. On paper, other than ABS and Traction Control, these bikes are almost identical – ‘ceptin one is old enough to drink.

I bought the Z900 as it looked identical to the ‘73 Z-1 – the legendary Kawasaki motorcycle that etch-a-sketched the motorcycle world.

I had this bike, back in the day, and it was like rediscovering that first real girlfriend – only this one had a college degree and credit rating.

From the double-overhead cam engine, displacement-wise, weight and available horsepower – these two machines were very much the same. Yet, Shira's machine was a far superior ride handling-wise.

Her Honda sported Hyper-Pro suspension, and when I could I ditched the stock Kawasaki shock and springs for the same. The Netherlands based company has been making cutting edge suspension for decades as their products are on the same tier as other Nordic brands, and having the purple shock and springs installed was just step one – although I did not realize it at the time.

You can spend a few thousand dollars on a Martin guitar, but that doesn't mean it'll sound good, or play right.

Observation and tuning are key, and then more listening to the tone, the feel of the strings, comfortability and sound all come into play when a guitar comes home.

It is the same with motorcycles and new suspension.

Although Shira and I had the same suspension, hers had been ‘tuned’ a few years back by Washington Cycle Works, on Route 31 in Washington, New Jersey. The Z was given a once over after installation and seemed fine, but the bike never had that "planted, could do no wrong feel."

I made an appointment with Ron Chermerynski, owner, operator, and "Suspension Sorcerer," of WCW.

It should be noted that just a few weeks earlier I had replaced an aging set of Michelins with a new set of Avon 3D EVO Sport Tires, purposely with track-time on my mind, and offered incredible grip on dry pavement. My hope was Ron and crew, Papa John and Scott, could bring the Z900 on level with the tires, and a 21-year-old and aging Honda.

A bit about Washington Cycle Works… they have been slowly and steadily becoming regional legends, and I do not say this lightly. I cannot tell you how many times we have been talking bike set-up and handling with riders around the northeast, and when the topic of suspension comes up, so does Ron and Washington Cycle Works.

Scott jokingly said that a customer called them “Famous,” at which he kinda rolled his eyes. I told them straight up that they have made a serious name for themselves and I hear Washington Cycle Works again and again at tracks, and sport-riding events. I added that "famous" is much better than "infamous," and they should know that they are celebrated, distinguished, and renowned in the motorcycle suspension world.

“Yeh, whatever,” was the response. Hmmm - they are humble too.

I arrived a bit earlier than my scheduled time, but Ron and Papa John rolled my Z right into the shop, and my usual light banter was tossed to the side and ignored, as these guys were in "let's get this bike better than right" mode. My attempts at light jokes and anecdotes bounced off them like Romulan torpedoes off a shield-protected Enterprise.

I have seen this serious work ethic before. When wheeled into surgery. Most surgery teams ignore my prattling, and they go through a checklist of things that MUST be done, and then, usually, the head doctor has had enough of me and nods to Dr. Sleepy. Then it is lights out.

It was a bit like that at WCW. 

Put your bike here. How much do you weigh? How much do you really weigh? Get your gear back on. Sit on the bike, chubby.

There was laughter, that I was not included in, and the phrase “Dump Truck” was heard, followed by more giggling.

Hey, hey, hey….!

Measurements were taken. Get off the bike. A computer was brought into play… Ron and Papa John staring at the screen whispering quiet incantations, that I could only believe were some sort of Suspension Sorcery mumbo jumbo.

Now standing off to the side, I took a few images, half expecting one of them to turn, grab my iPhone, and toss it out into the busy Route 31 traffic. They seemed to ignore me. I was good with that.

I was told to get back on the bike, which was held up, and off the side stand. I thought about the weight question (215 lbs of sinewy muscle wrapped by a good amount of protective blubber), but Papa John held the bike on an easy balancing point. I tried not to move.

Ron looked up and asked for the ‘Special Tool.’ I looked at him and said… “Special Tool?” More a question than a statement.

Yes, Hyperpro had a ‘Special Tool’ to adjust the pre-load of the spring. I had three of them. All three in my tool caddy, 50 miles north. Oh, oh. All this wizardry for naught.

Well, the front end would be a bit better, and I was sent out on WCW’s Secret Test Track, called Jackson Valley Road in Warren County by the authorities, to see how much.

This is where the Suspend Belief stuff came into play. I was told that the Kawasaki would handle better than it ever could have before adjustment.

“It will be like it is on rails,” was one comment from Papa John.

The front end was better, especially under braking.

When I returned, I said, "It might not be on rails, but at least it is on the tracks now." Progress for sure; but Ron stated that the bike was “Nowhere near what it should be,” and I would have to come back the next day with the adjustment wrench. Okay, I could do that.

Twenty-four hours later we rolled the Z900 back into WCW’s inner sanctum, and I handed the Hyperpro wrench to Ron. Papa John was not there that day but was replaced by the equally attentive and, like all these suspension surgeons, semi-stoic Scott.

We went through a lot of the get on/get off the bike. Bounce on the seat. Get off. Get on. Measurements taken and retaken. The tool was used… a lot.

New and additional data was fed into the computer and did its computer thing. Ron and Scott stared at the screen. They looked back at the bike, then me, then back to the screen. They talked between themselves, like I was not there, like I remember my surgeons conversing.

There was more on and off, bouncing of the bike, and additional adjustments made, but now more precise and exact to the nthdegree.

In a short while, Ron looked up and said test ride time.

But… he warned, to approach the Z900 as if I had never ridden it before. Not to manhandle the machine like he saw me do the previous day (Gee, I thought I was really riding it gracefully); and to think, and ease into the turns on WCW’s Secret Test Track, called Jackson Valley Road by the authorities in Warren County. Let the bike do what it wants to do now. Perform correctly, like a motorcycle should.

I did just that, and it did just that!

There was no more ‘Suspension of Belief.’ The machine had changed. It had gone from a dump truck to a nice, compliant sportish motorcycle.

Where before I had to think about the Kawasaki in turns, the bike seemed to follow my thoughts. Ron said it should be almost telepathic, like on rails.

As if! 

But it was so. The Z900 felt far lighter, and much more maneuverable, and heading into a turn clearly marked "Dangerous Curve" on WCW’s Secret Test Track, called Jackson Valley Road by the authorities in Warren County, I trail braked as smoothly as I could and, unlike how the bike had been handling, it now perfectly tracked where I was looking, and where I wanted and needed to be.

Suspension of Belief; and we quickly came to believe. Praise the Road Gods and say Hallelujah.

I returned the smile easily seen; even with my Schuberth helmet on.

Ron and Scott took a quick look at the bike one more time, nodded to each other and then shooed me away as the next patient, err, customer was already waiting.

The ride home, under clear skies and on dry warm pavement was … well it was amazing.

The Kawasaki Z900 that I really liked was now something more. Not just a motorcycle that looked very cool and was nice to putt around on, but now it almost felt like a weapon in my hands. A scalpel.

Clearly, I know this is not the sportiest, best handling machine on the road, or track; and I have limited riding skills, and the kid on a Vespa will probably crush me. 

But – the Kawasaki was far, far better than it was – and the real question is why did I wait so long to do this? All the track days and backroads miles might have been far betterer and more funner, if I had visited Washington Cycle Works back then.

Take that as a hint. A strong hint.

For me the season is just starting now, and I have miles to ride… and there is no suspension of belief there.