It's D-Day. As I walk toward the showroom, the feet are strangely reluctant. I know why. Its usually around this time that I get yanked back to reality and my SBK dream remains just that, a dream. But this time its different as I reach the showroom without getting side-swiped by a car or have a coconut break my head open. As I enter through the door, my senses are on edge. Is it here? In the building? Can I hear it running? I calm the nerves and walk over to counter and unbelievingly utter, " I am here for my Z800".

To be continued... (too busy riding to write
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Mine is not showing anything above 17!

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