At 100 km/h the air is a cooling breeze which blows your troubles away and puts a smile on your face. At 200 km/h it becomes a force to lean against as it pulls and tugs at you, whistling shrill melodies around the edges of your helmet. But at redline in top gear, in the upper reaches of hyperbike capability, the rules change; the air is a viscous cocoon of shrieking, tearing sound from which to hide as you paste yourself to the fuel tank and peer through the windscreen at the narrow tunnel opening up before you. And what sounds like the tearing of a huge piece of silk are actually the screams of millions of air molecules being ripped apart by your passage.

Welcome to the world of high-speed aerodynamics.

The above is copied from a blurb about the ZX12R, a later model in the Ninja series than mine.

I own a Kawasaki GPz900R (A5, 1988). It was purchased in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia in the early part of 1999. In 2001, I shipped it to the Netherlands when I moved there.
The old assorted page of everything that used to be here.
Bike (and me) nearing the top of the world; crossing the Artic Circle in Norway, July 2005.
Its always best to maintain a sense of proportion about these things though.