The first roar, it’s like the engine saying “I’m alive” before the crowd even hears a word. It’s the high‑octane burst when the valves open, the timing, the lift on that throttle, the way the exhaust pulse hits the resonators. If you tune that pulse, you get a promise that echoes in the ears. It’s all about that instant surge of power, the vibration in the chassis, and a little bit of that raw, unfiltered torque hitting the ground. That’s what makes a crowd forget their names and just feel the machine.

Sure thing, as long as the carbs don’t bite back I’ll make sure the suspension sings along. Otherwise it’s just me and the exhaust in a solo, shouting into the wind.