RantyDave
5th February 2008, 19:51
A 2004 R1 in a very fetching grey. Apparently modded with a PC3 and maybe some enthusiasm shown towards the baffles. Unfortunately the front tyre was rooted and this resulted in some enthusiasm needing to be shown to get it round corners. Other than that, how'd it go? Well, let me tell you....
The first thing I noticed about it was that someone had taken the cushions. Where my trumpet has a nice squashy thing to park my arse, someone has removed the seat and replaced it with a piece of plywood with a thin layer of fabric for decorative reasons. I think I was supposed to sit there, I couldn't see anywhere more obvious. Once moving the situation improved slightly as I consistently slid forwards on the seat and finally came to rest against something nice and soft. My nads. Which were jammed against the tank fairly constantly. No doubt the seat is more designed for hoofing out of a tight left hander but round Pauhatanui (sp?) inlet. Well. Maybe not.
Firing the bike up and picking my way out of suburbia I found it hugely easy to ride. Expecting to have my ligaments torn at the first hint of throttle I instead found a smooooooooth fuel map and a gentle "dbap bdap bdap" exhaust note that gave the impression that some of this may come as a result of not necessarily letting all the cylinders fire. My worries of spinning out the rear over a manhole cover or similar were not to be and a sharp stop'n'turn-right at a junction was similarly devoid of any kind of battle to encourage the bike to turn. It was all a piece of piss.
Once on the (semi) open road, some inconsiderate bastards were driving their cars on my road and they had to be passed. A suitable spot with lots of visibility was found. I didn't bother changing down gear and just, kinda, pointed it in the right direction and went. Now, here's the funny thing. The bike didn't really, as such, accelerate. It just kinda was going faster. No delay. No show. No wringing it's thankless little neck. No "bwwwwwaaaaahHHGHGHGHGHGH!!" or similar. Just cars on my left being no longer a problem. And around 150 showing on the speedo. Hang on, what? That'll be time to slow down then.
The brakes, as I mentioned, are awesome. The big numbers turn into little ones with no drama whatsoever. Even better it appears that a minor amount of trail braking can be had for very little urge to pop upright and almost no on-off transition. Very helpful indeed.
A brief spurt on a motorway was similar. Following Neil on my trumf, a couple of car lengths of gap could be eliminated in perhaps one to two seconds with just a slight intonation towards the bike that maybe you'd like to go faster. Again, no drama, you just kinda get there.
So, overall... re-reading this it gives the impression that the bike was boring. Hell no, I was just amazed at the clarity of the link between my brain and reality. Was it fun? God DAMN it was fun. It was one of those experiences I can't even think about without grinning insanely, and this from someone who was left a bit flat by a Tuono (obviously needed to encourage it a bit more). Do I want one? Of course. Am I going to get one? Shit no. For one, 100k very much feels like the bottom 1/3rd of the bike's performance that it truly is. At motorway speeds and (perhaps) top gear it is, in all honesty, just about idling. Keeping my license would prove to be a difficult and potentially very frustrating pastime and the protection from the fairing would only make it worse. And finally, of course, these things are dangerous. And I'm a big girl's blouse.
Anyway. I loved it. A perfect use of a Tuesday lunchtime.
Dave
The first thing I noticed about it was that someone had taken the cushions. Where my trumpet has a nice squashy thing to park my arse, someone has removed the seat and replaced it with a piece of plywood with a thin layer of fabric for decorative reasons. I think I was supposed to sit there, I couldn't see anywhere more obvious. Once moving the situation improved slightly as I consistently slid forwards on the seat and finally came to rest against something nice and soft. My nads. Which were jammed against the tank fairly constantly. No doubt the seat is more designed for hoofing out of a tight left hander but round Pauhatanui (sp?) inlet. Well. Maybe not.
Firing the bike up and picking my way out of suburbia I found it hugely easy to ride. Expecting to have my ligaments torn at the first hint of throttle I instead found a smooooooooth fuel map and a gentle "dbap bdap bdap" exhaust note that gave the impression that some of this may come as a result of not necessarily letting all the cylinders fire. My worries of spinning out the rear over a manhole cover or similar were not to be and a sharp stop'n'turn-right at a junction was similarly devoid of any kind of battle to encourage the bike to turn. It was all a piece of piss.
Once on the (semi) open road, some inconsiderate bastards were driving their cars on my road and they had to be passed. A suitable spot with lots of visibility was found. I didn't bother changing down gear and just, kinda, pointed it in the right direction and went. Now, here's the funny thing. The bike didn't really, as such, accelerate. It just kinda was going faster. No delay. No show. No wringing it's thankless little neck. No "bwwwwwaaaaahHHGHGHGHGHGH!!" or similar. Just cars on my left being no longer a problem. And around 150 showing on the speedo. Hang on, what? That'll be time to slow down then.
The brakes, as I mentioned, are awesome. The big numbers turn into little ones with no drama whatsoever. Even better it appears that a minor amount of trail braking can be had for very little urge to pop upright and almost no on-off transition. Very helpful indeed.
A brief spurt on a motorway was similar. Following Neil on my trumf, a couple of car lengths of gap could be eliminated in perhaps one to two seconds with just a slight intonation towards the bike that maybe you'd like to go faster. Again, no drama, you just kinda get there.
So, overall... re-reading this it gives the impression that the bike was boring. Hell no, I was just amazed at the clarity of the link between my brain and reality. Was it fun? God DAMN it was fun. It was one of those experiences I can't even think about without grinning insanely, and this from someone who was left a bit flat by a Tuono (obviously needed to encourage it a bit more). Do I want one? Of course. Am I going to get one? Shit no. For one, 100k very much feels like the bottom 1/3rd of the bike's performance that it truly is. At motorway speeds and (perhaps) top gear it is, in all honesty, just about idling. Keeping my license would prove to be a difficult and potentially very frustrating pastime and the protection from the fairing would only make it worse. And finally, of course, these things are dangerous. And I'm a big girl's blouse.
Anyway. I loved it. A perfect use of a Tuesday lunchtime.
Dave