I've always hankered after a Suzuki GT380. It all started when my mate Martin bought what I seem to recall was a 1975 bike in 1979, and systematically upgraded it. He had a knack for choosing the right bits to bolt on or exchange, both for performance and looks.
What's more, he was a talented rider - and a bit of a local hero amongst local teens who'd gather at the top of his road on Saturday mornings when he left home later for work.
First to get replaced was the four-silencer exhaust system. Back then he probably scrapped them. Today they're hen's teeth, and very expensive if genuine pipes turn up.
On went three expansion chambers. Not only did the bike sound amazing, but it meant the middle of the 380's cylinders was operating more efficiently - two strokes didn't like having a split exhaust for one cylinder.
He was also smart enough to swap the 24mm Mikuni carbs for 26mm versions, he said from a GT250 - which shared quite a few powerplant parts with the GT380 - and probably lofted power from a modest 38bhp to more like a 250-pro rata 45bhp.
Next came what were either clip-ons or certainly low bars compared to the original cow-horns. Finally, rear-set footpegs and repositioned gear change and back brake pedal.
The project was complete, and the performances, if not performance, epic.
The top of his road there was an uphill 90-degree corner, perfectly Tarmac-ked.
He'd always warm the 380 properly, but leaving home at 8am on weekdays he'd spare the village the sound of the triple singing. It was a love/hate thing depending upon attitudes of neighbours to bikes - and noise.
But returning home in the early evening, with a few of us gathered outside the village shop on that corner, we'd hear that wail from a mile away, then blipping down the box before he appeared, laid the bike as far over as he could, flat on the tank, knee out. Looked just like a proper race rider.
Over all too quickly, and we'd go try mimic him on our pushbikes on that same corner.
But there was always Saturday mornings. The warm-up, the steady ride up to and round that top-of-his-road bend, but the difference was 11am on a Saturday most people were either awake or out - although half-a-dozen of us teens were hanging out waiting for his departure.
As soon as the 380 was out of that bend and into the power band he'd give the clutch a brief pull, bring up the revs and wheelie off down the road, keeping the bike on its back wheel through gear changes into 2nd and 3rd.
But how times change. Early 380s were seen as being mildly quirky if not exotic, and made a sound unique to three-cylinder bikes. Initially, they were shaded by the bigger GT550 and GT750 Suzuki triples, but seen as entry-level into something different.
But into the 20-teens, when relatively few 380s had survived British winters, slush and salt, they were considered to be slow, overweight and a reliability risk. For a while, they were considered too exotic to be trusted.
At 173kgs, they were the same weight as a 150bhp Yamaha R1. That, and the feeble torque offered up by the 380's motor, didn't make them feel fast by any means, but in some ways it meant you could have a lot of fun - and entertain with a great soundtrack - well within speed limits.
They're stable, with sensible steering geometry, and as they shared dimensions with the bigger-engined GT550, they were comfortable.
Suzuki was the last of the Japanese manufacturers to lead on two-stroke power, with the GT380 disappearing from price lists in 1979 after seven years.
But today, they're considered highly-desirable, probably because, like Honda four-cylinder bikes, back then nobody expected more than two cylinders on a small capacity bike - and so they stuck in many minds.
The GT380 stuck in my mind because of the antics of village biking hero (to us teens at least…) Martin, and the look and sound of what is one of very few bikes that, today, are arguably more desirable with period modifications than most.
