James Deuce
7th December 2007, 21:07
I've been called James by two people today.
Showing them your license seems to do that.
The 2008 B-King/Hayabusa launch was a good bit of fun, but was a bit like looking at porn while standing around in a large crowd, drinking beer and eating pizza (if the Viking bouncer would let you). I don't know about you but that feels kind of creepy and uncomfortable at the same time. The Suzuki guy had a Powerpoint (Microsoft, FTW) show with some stories about Hobbit falcons diving into Nazgul at 327km/hr and 17mm tall pillions with gudgeon pins for feet.
I was too busy discovering tasty bits on the real thing. I don't get Powerpoint, especially when the real thing is right there! The Hayabusa looks more like a 1954 Morris Oxford in the flesh than it does in pictures, and to be honest it didn't really do much for me. Kind of more of the same except this time I'm melting, help me I'm melting, it's alright my arse has turned into a 1954 Morris Oxford.....
The B-King on the other hand is the two-wheeled equivalent of a "Handsome Woman". Bold, some features accentuated beyond reason, but intriguing in a "I wonder what would happen if I grabbed that from behind?" kind of way. There are things about it that just don't photograph well, but unlike Madonna, close inspection doesn't have you recoiling in horror. Engine cases are polished, water pipes chromed, oil feed bolts are attractively sculptured and even chromed plastic looks expensive. The instruments with their tasteful blue back lighting and plethora of information in a small clear package look like proper expensive kit.
The front forks with their DLC (Suzuki's Diamond Like Coating), black finish, and 6 bolt (3 per side) triple clamps wouldn't look out of place on a Superbike Contender, and this kind of chunky but purposeful styling continues throughout, ending with those Elephant Gun exhausts. They really do look better in real life. Honest to goodness. Somehow photos make them look like they overhang the rear about 3 ft, but they manage to placate Euro 3 emissions and noise legislation while producing a nice full growl.
What's it like to ride? Well, in the inimitable words of Postman Pat from Middlesbrough (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-OI8KFFATs) - "Foookin' Neeoow!"
It fits me perfectly. It was like some Japanese bloke took a dumpy 5'9.5" Western bloke, stuck one of those Lycra suits on him with the illuminated ping pong balls, and then told some designers to build a bike around his bottom width, femur length, and arm reach.
What a brilliant seat! Like all good seats it felt a bit firm to start with but such is the weight distribution between arms, legs, and arse, it presented no problems at all. Controls are all rationally placed, but somehow had a quality heft and feel to them, to go with the expensive looks.
What did I do first? I selected the "B" engine map. I'm not as stupid as I once was. I ride a 400cc bike to work. I rode that there 400cc motorcycle to Wellington Motorcycles to go on my lunchtime joyride. My throttle hand is attuned to big throttle openings, ranging from 75% to 100%. I wanted to feel my way into things with a bike nearly 1000cc bigger than my daily ride.
1000cc.
I accept that you may think it a pussy's approach to a LunaCycle (Lunatic's Motorcycle), but I couldn't bear the thought of ground looping it right outside Wellington Motorcycles. Not to worry though, clutch engagement positive, throttle application smooth and off to the first set of lights. The analogue rev counter is lovely to look at, with the speedo a clear LCD to the right, gear indicator, temperature, fuel gauge and fuel map indicator all somehow grouped tidily and legibly. How did the speed thingy get to that speed in 100 metres though? Must be broken. The radial brakes aren't though, or there'd be a Nissan Sentra with extra big exhausts driving around the place. This is the B map. OOooooookaaaaay.
You can't change back to the A map without turning the ignition off, so I thought I'd ride off to have lunch with my dear Wife. Getting through traffic proved a doddle, with light steering and exceptionally nimble handling allowing the normal collection of traffic management activities. Mirrors are a bit buzzy, but things aren't in them for long anyway. It looks top heavy but feels lighter than most middleweights to manage in all sorts of situations, from parking to abrupt lane changes.
Some of my commute takes in terrain that is about as straight as John Travolta. The B-King proved exceptionally adept at this sort of twisty suburban hill road, so much so that it doesn't really pay to look at the speedometer. Or maybe you should keep at least one eye glued to it, because the sensation of actual speed is quite difficult to nail on the B-King. Some big bikes feel like they are straining at the leash in first, but even with the soft engine map the B-King felt willing and flexible in first.
My neighbourhood has come on leaps and bounds since we moved in. The Butcher has been replaced with a Chocolatier, the 4 Square with a Cafe, the Haberdashers with a Chinese restaurant, and the Hardware store recently succumbed to a Publishing company. There's even an art gallery.
Even so, the B-King raised a bit of a stir. Delivery truck drivers did double takes, and local Dads were seen uttering an emphatic, unselfconscious "Fark!" upon seeing the the mighty thews of the B-King. My wife was rather appreciative of the quality look of the B-King, which rated a pleasing, "That's rather nice!" rather than the normal, "Yes dear, it's lovely", that some of the bikes I drag home get.
"A" Mode: A different animal.
I felt a little more confident and was able to start throwing the bike around a little on the way down through the local hairpins. I was really looking forward to giving that throttle a twist as I hit the motorway proper and the uphill left hander under the Petone over bridge is the perfect launching point. Literally. I don't go out of my way to wheelie. Usually it is the result of less than perfect bike control on my part, rather than a conscious effort, so you can imagine my surprise as the throttle turned into a hydraulic ram, lifting the front up. It took me a significant chunk of time (albeit stretched thanks to the relatvistic nature of the B-King) to realise that the lovely rev counter wasn't getting closer because my arms were getting shorter. I then did something completely unlike me. I hooked 3rd. Without landing first. I raised the courage to look a bit further ahead about now and noticed the Highway Patrol car ahead.
Using the hydraulic ram rheostat switch that Suzuki laughably call a "throttle" I gently lowered the front down and tried to brake as hard as is possible without that glowering headlight bouncing up and down.
I then pootled. It is possible to pootle on a B-King. In fact the suspension and riding position conspire to make pootling a very attractive option. But. Sneeze and you're doing 160, head slowly folding backwards. Irritating hayfever runny nose turning to post-nasal drip in a split second.
Mr Highway Patrol surreptitiously followed me and then it happened. The flashy things came on. Oh crikey.
I stopped, got gloves and helmet off and got the license out.
We had, "A chat". No seriously, the guy who stopped me, Chris, was really nice, used to own a ZX6R and just wanted to chat about the B-King. I managed to stamp the gibbering idiot blithering in the back of my brain into quiescence and introduced myself properly and after we exchanged pleasantries, went about our respective business. Sometimes being called "James" by an official personage isn't so bad.
I did not want to give it back. It ticks all the boxes including "Lose license before I turn 50" so spectacularly well. Everything smacks of quality and it just fits me so well. Giving it back to Clint, the other chap who called me James after looking at my license was a total wrench but I avoided sobbing by gushing enthusiastically about the B-King in a mutual appreciation session that was getting dangerously close to porn again.
I shuffled off to the Katana and thrashed it back to work. Without breaking any laws. I had nearly as much fun.
But...........
Showing them your license seems to do that.
The 2008 B-King/Hayabusa launch was a good bit of fun, but was a bit like looking at porn while standing around in a large crowd, drinking beer and eating pizza (if the Viking bouncer would let you). I don't know about you but that feels kind of creepy and uncomfortable at the same time. The Suzuki guy had a Powerpoint (Microsoft, FTW) show with some stories about Hobbit falcons diving into Nazgul at 327km/hr and 17mm tall pillions with gudgeon pins for feet.
I was too busy discovering tasty bits on the real thing. I don't get Powerpoint, especially when the real thing is right there! The Hayabusa looks more like a 1954 Morris Oxford in the flesh than it does in pictures, and to be honest it didn't really do much for me. Kind of more of the same except this time I'm melting, help me I'm melting, it's alright my arse has turned into a 1954 Morris Oxford.....
The B-King on the other hand is the two-wheeled equivalent of a "Handsome Woman". Bold, some features accentuated beyond reason, but intriguing in a "I wonder what would happen if I grabbed that from behind?" kind of way. There are things about it that just don't photograph well, but unlike Madonna, close inspection doesn't have you recoiling in horror. Engine cases are polished, water pipes chromed, oil feed bolts are attractively sculptured and even chromed plastic looks expensive. The instruments with their tasteful blue back lighting and plethora of information in a small clear package look like proper expensive kit.
The front forks with their DLC (Suzuki's Diamond Like Coating), black finish, and 6 bolt (3 per side) triple clamps wouldn't look out of place on a Superbike Contender, and this kind of chunky but purposeful styling continues throughout, ending with those Elephant Gun exhausts. They really do look better in real life. Honest to goodness. Somehow photos make them look like they overhang the rear about 3 ft, but they manage to placate Euro 3 emissions and noise legislation while producing a nice full growl.
What's it like to ride? Well, in the inimitable words of Postman Pat from Middlesbrough (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-OI8KFFATs) - "Foookin' Neeoow!"
It fits me perfectly. It was like some Japanese bloke took a dumpy 5'9.5" Western bloke, stuck one of those Lycra suits on him with the illuminated ping pong balls, and then told some designers to build a bike around his bottom width, femur length, and arm reach.
What a brilliant seat! Like all good seats it felt a bit firm to start with but such is the weight distribution between arms, legs, and arse, it presented no problems at all. Controls are all rationally placed, but somehow had a quality heft and feel to them, to go with the expensive looks.
What did I do first? I selected the "B" engine map. I'm not as stupid as I once was. I ride a 400cc bike to work. I rode that there 400cc motorcycle to Wellington Motorcycles to go on my lunchtime joyride. My throttle hand is attuned to big throttle openings, ranging from 75% to 100%. I wanted to feel my way into things with a bike nearly 1000cc bigger than my daily ride.
1000cc.
I accept that you may think it a pussy's approach to a LunaCycle (Lunatic's Motorcycle), but I couldn't bear the thought of ground looping it right outside Wellington Motorcycles. Not to worry though, clutch engagement positive, throttle application smooth and off to the first set of lights. The analogue rev counter is lovely to look at, with the speedo a clear LCD to the right, gear indicator, temperature, fuel gauge and fuel map indicator all somehow grouped tidily and legibly. How did the speed thingy get to that speed in 100 metres though? Must be broken. The radial brakes aren't though, or there'd be a Nissan Sentra with extra big exhausts driving around the place. This is the B map. OOooooookaaaaay.
You can't change back to the A map without turning the ignition off, so I thought I'd ride off to have lunch with my dear Wife. Getting through traffic proved a doddle, with light steering and exceptionally nimble handling allowing the normal collection of traffic management activities. Mirrors are a bit buzzy, but things aren't in them for long anyway. It looks top heavy but feels lighter than most middleweights to manage in all sorts of situations, from parking to abrupt lane changes.
Some of my commute takes in terrain that is about as straight as John Travolta. The B-King proved exceptionally adept at this sort of twisty suburban hill road, so much so that it doesn't really pay to look at the speedometer. Or maybe you should keep at least one eye glued to it, because the sensation of actual speed is quite difficult to nail on the B-King. Some big bikes feel like they are straining at the leash in first, but even with the soft engine map the B-King felt willing and flexible in first.
My neighbourhood has come on leaps and bounds since we moved in. The Butcher has been replaced with a Chocolatier, the 4 Square with a Cafe, the Haberdashers with a Chinese restaurant, and the Hardware store recently succumbed to a Publishing company. There's even an art gallery.
Even so, the B-King raised a bit of a stir. Delivery truck drivers did double takes, and local Dads were seen uttering an emphatic, unselfconscious "Fark!" upon seeing the the mighty thews of the B-King. My wife was rather appreciative of the quality look of the B-King, which rated a pleasing, "That's rather nice!" rather than the normal, "Yes dear, it's lovely", that some of the bikes I drag home get.
"A" Mode: A different animal.
I felt a little more confident and was able to start throwing the bike around a little on the way down through the local hairpins. I was really looking forward to giving that throttle a twist as I hit the motorway proper and the uphill left hander under the Petone over bridge is the perfect launching point. Literally. I don't go out of my way to wheelie. Usually it is the result of less than perfect bike control on my part, rather than a conscious effort, so you can imagine my surprise as the throttle turned into a hydraulic ram, lifting the front up. It took me a significant chunk of time (albeit stretched thanks to the relatvistic nature of the B-King) to realise that the lovely rev counter wasn't getting closer because my arms were getting shorter. I then did something completely unlike me. I hooked 3rd. Without landing first. I raised the courage to look a bit further ahead about now and noticed the Highway Patrol car ahead.
Using the hydraulic ram rheostat switch that Suzuki laughably call a "throttle" I gently lowered the front down and tried to brake as hard as is possible without that glowering headlight bouncing up and down.
I then pootled. It is possible to pootle on a B-King. In fact the suspension and riding position conspire to make pootling a very attractive option. But. Sneeze and you're doing 160, head slowly folding backwards. Irritating hayfever runny nose turning to post-nasal drip in a split second.
Mr Highway Patrol surreptitiously followed me and then it happened. The flashy things came on. Oh crikey.
I stopped, got gloves and helmet off and got the license out.
We had, "A chat". No seriously, the guy who stopped me, Chris, was really nice, used to own a ZX6R and just wanted to chat about the B-King. I managed to stamp the gibbering idiot blithering in the back of my brain into quiescence and introduced myself properly and after we exchanged pleasantries, went about our respective business. Sometimes being called "James" by an official personage isn't so bad.
I did not want to give it back. It ticks all the boxes including "Lose license before I turn 50" so spectacularly well. Everything smacks of quality and it just fits me so well. Giving it back to Clint, the other chap who called me James after looking at my license was a total wrench but I avoided sobbing by gushing enthusiastically about the B-King in a mutual appreciation session that was getting dangerously close to porn again.
I shuffled off to the Katana and thrashed it back to work. Without breaking any laws. I had nearly as much fun.
But...........