So how can a 650cc naked Ninja possibly be better than the closest bikers have gotten to God’s grace? Simple – it’s actually usable. Consider the famed fighter jet the F-16. Undeniably a badass aeroplane capable of projecting the pointy side of freedom onto any shifty communists the world over, but less great at getting you from NYC to LA is anything but a sweaty ball. It is CAPABLE in the same way the H2R is capable, namely at bleeding edge performance and not suffering fools – and new flash you and everyone else are almost certainly fools when it comes to riding halo superbikes.

But the Kawasaki Z650 my friends? Now this is a bike that’s capable of being used, exploited, and trailer-park-level abused on streets and avenues you actually call home. This bike is so confidence inspiring, so tossable and user-friendly that it’s not a starter bike but rather a start to finish bike. This is all the bike you need on public roads and highways, and the only time you’ll be left wanting for power or poise is if you line up against some suicidal maniac on any of the halo superbikes. Let’s all collectively grow up and decide to end this obsession with more power. We’ve clearly reached a point in all our two and four wheeled machines where power and ability has outpaced the general public’s capabilities. Hellcats and H2Rs prove that.

The Z650 is that rare middle-ground of the right amount of power to not leave an old salt wanting, but not so much that it will overwhelm even the newest Squid. I loved this bike, in a way I thought I couldn’t love a modern bike (I’m hipster like that). Throttle response was crisp, handing was nimble, and all my inputs were reacted to in a predictable and measurable way. It is missing that edginess than many sportbikes confuse for dynamics but are really just poor driving characteristics. If I was shopping for another bike for the F24 garage, I’d give the Kawasaki Z650 a serious look, and you should too.

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When I first researched this machine, I understood the term “Streetfighter” to refer to the naked body style of the motorcycle – stripped of excess. Not until I first turned the key, pulled the clutch in, and pressed the starter, did I begin to understand what I had gotten myself into. The guttural growl of the Italian V-twin is unprecedented, and the rider cannot help but feel empowered by the immediacy at which you can transform this growl into a bellowing roar. The mere twitch of your wrist makes you aware you are piloting a machine whose name alludes to much more than simply the body-style.

“It couldn’t be that much more spectacular than my Kawasaki Ninja, right?” I thought to myself as I gingerly depressed the shifter down from neutral, engaging first gear. Moments later I enjoyed my first terrifying wheelie: I rolled on the throttle, and before I could say “porca troia! (holy sh*t)” was blasting down the asphalt with only one tire on the ground. With the help of adrenalin flowing through my body, I safely touched the front back down; in awe like never before.

The V-twin engine layout results in obscene acceleration capable of bringing the front wheel right up before you can comprehend that you’ve already broken every speed-limit in the country. Nothing could have prepared me for the breathtaking freedom this machine provided. A whim could transform my surroundings into a blur, scenery ever accelerating out of the corners of my eyes, perfectly in sync with the torrential roar escaping from the titanium exhaust system. The premium Brembo brakes and Oehlins suspension pieces help create an unexplainable trust and confidence in the machine, no matter how fast you’re coming up on “turn 4” during a therapeutic blast through the canyon.

Such a companion is rare to come by, and like any good friend, the Streetfighter always has your back when encountering another two-wheeled, or four-wheeled predator at a red light, always ready to lay down strips of rubber and tire smoke for your mutual amusement.

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With all the new rule changes, everyone from the drivers, the teams, and especially the fans are all starting over from 0. No one knows what is going to happen this year and that makes for exciting racing. It also makes for a fan base willing to explain to newbies the intricacies of the sport. Nobody has any idea how this season will turn out, so it seems that everyone is all too willing to volunteer their personal theory.

I watched my first F1 race two weeks ago in a crowded downtown LA bar, and it was a total delight. The TVs were too small, the sound was muffled, I had a terrible seat, and it was all great. Despite my virginal knowledge of the sport, I felt a part of this community and joined in their excitements and disappointments. For those two hours, I was an F1 fan.

Get out there, find a Meetup or Facebook group that organizes public viewing parties of the races in your town. Show up, get a plate of wings, and join in the fun of watching the teams and the fans try to figure out the new regulatory landscape. The racing has been good so far this year, and we’re only 2 races in. Plenty of time to jump in, down some beers, and join the F1 crowd.

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