I Am A 2010 Yamaha YZ125 - First Test

I bet you didn't think bikes have fun, but we do. And let me tell you a secret: I have the most.

I am Dirt Rider Magazine's 2010 Yamaha YZ125. I was made out of parts that haven't changed much since designers added my motor to this aluminum frame in 2005. Sure, I got trickle-down, lightweight additions here and there a few years back; and that Speed-Sensitive System fork in 2006 was a nice modern touch. But for the most part, I'm very close to my brothers from 2005 and on. For 2010, I get two new stickers. If you find them, I will give you a prize. That prize is looking at a YZ125 with care. Now you are cooler. You are very welcome.

Since my story obviously isn't new, what could be interesting about it? I'm just a 125, after all. Only a couple of companies even make 125s. So maybe we're totally radical because we're different? Maybe. But I have another theory.

Today, most of my competition have valves in their heads, cam chains spinning next to their cylinder walls and ridiculously skinny pipes. The modern motocross bike, in my humble opinion, has gone soft like a couch. It begs you to work less, make more noise and spend more money. It's a big dose of fat laziness served up in a sport that is supposed to chew the fat and spit out the lazy.

Today's bikes are heavier than me. Today's bikes are more complicated than me. Today's bikes have brains that control how much gas goes in and know what the weather is like. My brain involves spinning magnets-that's pretty much it. And my parents spend more time, money and effort building and selling these not-so-new-anymore "modern" bikes.

I'd be lying if I weren't jealous. I mean, kids everywhere are lining up for today's bikes. Fuel injection? I can only image what that feels like in my heart no matter the temperature or altitude. Some have electric start, I hear. Four-stroke traction? I don't know what that is, but the way the noisy bikes grip to the hardpack makes me ping. Titanium exhaust systems? That. Is. Awesome. My second cousin, the YZ450F, even has a backward cylinder. I hear that's so it can feel more like me. Cool!

But something strange is happening in this sea of coolness. What was old is new again. And eyes are coming back to me. Well, at least they're glancing.

I know this because I've been tossed around Dirt Rider's testing pool of editors and their friends for months. I've been ridden all across Southern California's MX tracks. I've been exhausted, refueled and exhausted again. I've been meticulously cleaned to factory-like specs. I've been used and put away dirty. I've been flat-landed and came-up-short upon. I've even had totally solid one-handers thrown off my bar. I've been loved to death. And I've had a lot of fun. And it seems people can't take their eyes off of me.

Riders can hear me wake up from across the pits, and they almost always turn their heads. Famous people must ride me because they give a lot of high-fives. Cheers of "Yahoo!" "Nice!" "125s kick ass!" are not uncommon. It seems I'm the most popular bike in the pits. When I'm riding in the back of a truck people stop and smile. Brett Metcalfe (the last racer on a factory-level YZ125) nearly wept when he saw me. And I'm rarely left in the shop on a weekend. I'm getting respect everywhere I roll. Well, almost everywhere.

There are riders who hate me. They hate to hear me coming. They hate to hear me next to them. And they really hate to hear me go by because they'll do anything to get in my way. It's funny because most of these haters are older. They probably remember riding bikes like me before they got their newer, lazier bikes. They're probably mad at how much fun they know the guy riding me is having or that they can't do the work anymore to keep me competitive. Whatever. I know I sound cool to them.