This is old news as almost a year ago Kawasaki said they are bringing back a 2-stroke—great, right? WRONG what I’m hearing, they’re about to ruin it.
First off… oil injection.
Why? Why would they do this? Inject oil? Directly? Like some kind of modern machine? I want to stand at the tailgate at 6 a.m., half asleep, pouring oil into a gas. But no—Kawasaki wants to take away that heritage, that ritual, that delicate art. “Just ride,” they say. “It’s convenient,” they say. Well, I say: NO.
Then… fuel injection.
Oh of course. Because carbs are too “old school.” Too “dirty.” Too “simple.” Too “tunable with a flathead screwdriver and pure emotion.” Now the bike needs a mini ECU, a TPS, maybe even a laptop cable like some kind of jetless dirt-bike laptop creature. What’s next? Power Tuner app, A diagnostic port? A firmware update?
I didn’t sign up for that. I signed up for jets, needles, air screws, and a prayer.
But wait… hold onto your handlebars… counterbalancer shaft.
Apparently Kawasaki wants 2-strokes to be smooth. SMOOTH?
A real 2-stroke shouldn’t be smooth. It should buzz your hands like an angry hornet colony. It should make your feet go numb halfway through the ride so you think you’re getting frostbite in July. That’s tradition. That’s character. That’s the 2-stroke way.
And then the final insult… electric start.
Look—all I want is to casually stall my 2-stroke at the top of a hill and then spend three minutes doing the kickstart dance while my buddies laugh. I want a bike that boots back when I kick it wrong and sends a lightning bolt up my shin. I want the struggle. The suffering. The bond.
So yeah. Kawasaki might be bringing back a 2-stroke—but if it has oil injection, fuel injection, a counterbalancer, and electric start, then I’m telling you right now:
It’s over. They’ve destroyed it. The golden age is gone.
I’ll be over here hugging my carbureted premix-powered kickstart-only rattle-snake of a bike.
Because that, my friends…
is what a real 2-stroke is supposed to be.
First off… oil injection.
Why? Why would they do this? Inject oil? Directly? Like some kind of modern machine? I want to stand at the tailgate at 6 a.m., half asleep, pouring oil into a gas. But no—Kawasaki wants to take away that heritage, that ritual, that delicate art. “Just ride,” they say. “It’s convenient,” they say. Well, I say: NO.
Then… fuel injection.
Oh of course. Because carbs are too “old school.” Too “dirty.” Too “simple.” Too “tunable with a flathead screwdriver and pure emotion.” Now the bike needs a mini ECU, a TPS, maybe even a laptop cable like some kind of jetless dirt-bike laptop creature. What’s next? Power Tuner app, A diagnostic port? A firmware update?
I didn’t sign up for that. I signed up for jets, needles, air screws, and a prayer.
But wait… hold onto your handlebars… counterbalancer shaft.
Apparently Kawasaki wants 2-strokes to be smooth. SMOOTH?
A real 2-stroke shouldn’t be smooth. It should buzz your hands like an angry hornet colony. It should make your feet go numb halfway through the ride so you think you’re getting frostbite in July. That’s tradition. That’s character. That’s the 2-stroke way.
And then the final insult… electric start.
Look—all I want is to casually stall my 2-stroke at the top of a hill and then spend three minutes doing the kickstart dance while my buddies laugh. I want a bike that boots back when I kick it wrong and sends a lightning bolt up my shin. I want the struggle. The suffering. The bond.
So yeah. Kawasaki might be bringing back a 2-stroke—but if it has oil injection, fuel injection, a counterbalancer, and electric start, then I’m telling you right now:
It’s over. They’ve destroyed it. The golden age is gone.
I’ll be over here hugging my carbureted premix-powered kickstart-only rattle-snake of a bike.
Because that, my friends…
is what a real 2-stroke is supposed to be.