Alright, so I’ve had this Kawasaki 454 LTD for a bit now. Decent little cruiser, you know? But there’s always that one question that nags at you with any bike: just how fast will she really go? People throw numbers around, forums, old magazines, but nothing beats finding out for yourself. So, I decided, yeah, let’s do this.
Finding the Right Spot
First thing, you can’t just pin the throttle anywhere. Needed a good, long, straight stretch of road. Preferably empty. That’s the tricky part these days, finding a road like that where you won’t bother anyone or get yourself into a heap of trouble. Took me a couple of weekends scouting, actually. My checklist for the spot was simple:
- Long enough to get up to speed and slow down safely.
- Straight as an arrow, no surprises.
- Absolutely minimal traffic, ideally zero.
- Good visibility all around.
Found this one stretch, early Sunday morning, hardly a soul around. Perfect.
The Moment of Truth
Got out there, bike was running sweet. Warmed her up properly, gave everything a quick once-over. Nothing fancy, just making sure nothing was obviously about to fall off. Then, it was time. Took a deep breath, tucked in as much as you can on a bike like the 454 – which ain’t much, let me tell ya – and just rolled that throttle wide open.
She pulled. Not like a superbike, obviously, but that little V-twin, it’s got character. The wind started hammering me pretty good. The engine was singing its heart out. I was keeping an eye on the speedo, watching that needle creep up. It’s a bit of a buzz, that, pushing a machine to its limit, or at least your limit of nerve.
So, How Fast Did She Go?
Kept her pinned for as long as the road and my guts allowed. The needle climbed and climbed, then kinda hovered. I glanced down a couple of times to be sure. On that run, on that day, my 454 LTD’s speedometer showed me just a hair over 95 mph. Maybe 96, 97 if I squinted? Let’s call it a solid 95. I didn’t have a fancy GPS setup, just the bike’s own clock. Old school, I guess.
More Than Just a Number
Now, that 95 mph, it might not sound like a whole lot to you fellas riding them newfangled rockets. And yeah, on paper, it’s just a number. But for this old girl, it felt pretty good, pretty honest. And you know, this whole top speed quest, it wasn’t really about posting a fast time on some forum or trying to impress anyone down at the local bike night. This particular 454, this specific bike, well, it’s got a bit of a story behind it for me.
See, my old man, he wasn’t much of a biker himself, more of a car guy. But his best mate, a fella we all called Uncle Jimmy – not a real uncle, you know how it is, just one of those family friends who’s always around – he was the biker. And Uncle Jimmy, back in the late 80s, he bought himself a brand new, shiny Kawasaki 454 LTD. He was so proud of that thing. I was just a kid, but I remember him polishing the chrome till you could see your face in it. He used to tell these amazing stories, usually after a couple of beers, about how that 454 could surprise a lot of bigger bikes. “She’s a sleeper, this one!” he’d wink and say. “Faster than she’s got any right to be!” But he was always a bit cagey on the actual speeds, more focused on the thrill of it, the wind in his hair (when he still had more of it, haha).
Uncle Jimmy, well, he rode that Kawi for years, then life happened, he got older, and the bike ended up parked in his garage, gathering dust. He passed away a good few years back now. And then, last year, I heard his old place was being cleared out. I went over, just to see if there was anything, any memento. And there, under a tarp, was the 454. Looking real sad, paint faded, tires flat, cobwebs everywhere. But it was his bike. I just had to have it. Took me the better part of six months, a lot of skinned knuckles, and more coffee than I care to admit, but I got her running again. Cleaned her up as best I could. She’s no show pony, still wears her age, but she runs.
So, taking her out for that top speed run, it was… I don’t know… kinda personal. Like I was trying to see if Uncle Jimmy’s tall tales had some truth to them. Like I was finishing a ride he started a long time ago. That 95 mph? It wasn’t about breaking records. It was about feeling that old engine work, hearing that sound he must have heard, and yeah, finding out she could still move. For an old bike, from an old friend, that number felt pretty damn good. It made all that workshop time worth it.
She handled the speed alright, you know. Got a bit buzzy up top, vibrations through the bars and pegs, like she was reminding me she’s no spring chicken. But she held her line. Definitely not a speed I’d want to sit at for an hour, but for that short burst, to see what she had left in the tank? Yeah, she did good. And honestly, that’s all I really wanted to know.
