Leaderboard

Got a call from OT today, saw me in Monton, so he came round in this so he's now got a Triumph Daytona and the MV and very much still alive Oh and the Tracker went on one cylinder and its not the coil

Hi all. So I bought my first yamaha. Its an xt125x and im liking it a lot so far. Its not the fastest bike in the world at 65 -70 but its good enough for my 6 days a week commuting to college and work in London ( Great town bike). Bought full Arrow exhaust system for it which made a little difference to performance and makes a good sound. Spits flame and pops which is awesome . Up jet to 17.5 pilot jet. Ticks over far smoother and easier starting. Also up jet to 110 jet however this showed no improvement on its own as I havent drilled any extra holes in air box cover ( removing it is to much air). Recently my speed sensor broke so I need to buy a new one and the quality of the bike could be a bit higher. More mods to come soon but nothing to big renthal bars etc. Here are some pictures of the bike. Look forward to chatting on the forum. Anyone else own one of these.

just making sure I had it

one more, sorry for being such a dope give a spanner or a hammer i and i can fix it

Carl, you just reminded me, if you ever wanted to upgrade the XS to H4 halogen headlamp, the superdream one works a dream (sic!)

managed to post it tommyxs. not much of a bike though!!

Hope I'm that much of a legend at 90... Ha ha ha!

mad question but do you have mice in the garage check for a broken wire from the battery to the coil and trace it back from there to where you are getting power

1.5k riding it & 1k pushing it hehehe

Why the hell did you push it. Ride without the clutch. Wont hurt as a get you home. I have even done it with a truck. Plonker.....

Ummm...But what level of idiots do they fall in campaman?? eg: type [An idiot, dolt, or dullard is a mentally deficient person, or someone who acts in a self-defeating or significantly counter-productive way.] (Wiki) Standard Idiot. The standard idiot is to the human race what pigeons are to city streets. Irritating whilst simply being themselves and individually harmless whilst large concentrations can prove deleterious to health – mental health, that is. An endearing characteristic of the standard idiot is that once the outward manifestations of idiocy are pointed out, and this may require some patience and the boiling-down of simple concepts, the standard idiot will usually grin in understanding then endeavour to improve themselves. The fact that they were born an idiot generally precludes spectacular progress but the process has a faintly charming quality nonetheless. Danger level – minimal. Type I Idiot. The Type I is as above in many ways but lacking the kindly nature and slightly guilty manner when confronted with evidence of its own idiocy. The Type I is usually either obnoxious or overly friendly, the latter requiring most caution as those unskilled in spotting the more exotic idiot forms may realise somewhat later than is comfortable to tell the offender where to go. Occasionally a vestigial form of learning ability still exists in the Type I and, with extreme stimulation, a punch in the face, perhaps, or telling the offender precisely what you think in good strong language, this recessive attribute may briefly spring to life and exact beneficial change on the individual concerned. Danger level – low to moderate. Type II Idiot. The first of the dangerous varieties, Type IIs are predominantly masters of the over-friendly method because all doorways to the human world would otherwise be closed without this vital coping tool. Mild pity may be taken on examples that combine stupidity with idiocy though these are rare – the majority of type IIs are reasonably intelligent but lack the closed loop linking self-observation to the learning and behavioural-modification centres of the brain. This cerebral short-circuiting is best observed in the Type IIs frequent and expeditious flight into a huff condition when faced with the conflict between idiotic self-recognition and the absence of an innate mechanism for rapid behavioural modification. Patients exhibiting these symptoms are at serious risk of spiralling into the Type III regime of heaping spectacularly stupid acts one upon the next in an orgy of self-defeat. Another seldom-encountered evolution of the Type II is the intelligent / obnoxious variety where the cumbersome matter of outward friendliness is dispensed with in place of learning, researching and accumulating vast tracts of knowledge with which to impress and regale other idiot types and weaker subjects. It should be noted that all Type IIs are dangerous due to a typical inability to modify their stance regardless of how utterly defeated, outgunned or proven wrong they may be. Extended periods of mental hibernation awaiting the trigger that will start them off all over again is typical and may give others some respite but the Type II has a single redeeming feature elevating it above the Type III, this being its modicum of low cunning and on rare occasions the Type II may see a vision – a vision of themselves as others see them – and, although unable to publicly acknowledge this epiphany, they will usually drop from sight at this point never to be seen or heard from again. Danger Level – moderate to high. Type III Idiot. The Type III is to the human race what syphilis is to sex, it represents the highest functioning idiot life-form formally classified by social science. There’s good reason why words do not exist in the English language (nor probably any other) to fill the disbelieving silences left in the wake of Type III activity. Type IIIs are the true masters of the over-friendly technique and with a penchant for overdone pleasantries they make smarming headway through the social orbit of their victims with a desperate need to please and a love of mummy that would make Oedipus blush. True Type IIIs are serial losers with little to show for their stay on the planet, their calling requiring the sacrifice, faith and lifetime dedication of a monk. Career-wise, they find themselves endlessly returned to square-one due to an inability to work with anyone, finally achieving middle-aged stagnation when claimed either by premature redundancy or a weak-willed and last-ditch attempt to work for themselves. But what really sets the Type III apart from other idiot species is their staggering determination to heap one fantastically stupid act on top of the next leaving observers intrigued and dumbstruck in equal measure. The Type III doesn’t rest for a moment – forging relationships that live and die like summer moths it slithers through society like diarrhoea, afflicting many but making no friends in a transitory universe utterly beyond its grasp where only family and other idiot types can tolerate long-term association. Like cancer, two discreet forms exists. The benign form is often found in bureaucratic circles making preposterous rules that no one can understand whilst the malignant form grows as an ugly, unwanted tumour within a social group spawning poisonous platitudes that, due to an inability to learn, alter little with the passage of time.