This is the bike Honda
hoped would reclaim their TT glory this year.
Featuring internals engineered by the FireBlade’s
progenitor Tadao Baba himself, this is a very,
very special machine indeed. We took it to Brands
Hatch to get an idea of what we all missed on
the Island.
The Monday morning crawl
around the M25 and over the Dartford Bridge goes
by unnoticed. Rain has been forecast and, reluctantly,
I’m in the car.
But I’m too busy thinking
about the bike world’s ultimate ‘Blade – the £50,000
special set to be raced by Supersport 600 frontrunner
John McGuinness at the North West 200, the TT
and Macau to care much about the 30mph average
speed.
Finally, four hours after
I set off 117 miles away, I’m here.
The sun is shining and Brands’ hallowed
Tarmac beckons me on.
Castrol Supersport hotshot
McGuinness is already waiting, along with Honda
UK race boss Roger Harvey and the bike’s
chief fettler, Paul Bird Motorsport mechanic
Stuart Bland.
Honda has kindly lent us
a standard FireBlade in road trim too. It’ll
make a perfect comparison tool.
I opt to take the stocker
out first of all. I need to reacquaint myself
with the circuit. I haven’t been here for
two years.
McGuinness agrees we’ll
just go our separate ways for this first session
of four.
We’re waved out of
pitlane and I never see him again. Um, yeah,
this boy’s fast.
I pull in on lap three
to have the footrests’ hero blobs removed.
They’re getting in the way around the tightish
Druids and the breathtakingly quick Clearways
right handers.
The stock ‘Blade
does well around here. Hopelessly overgeared,
it’s still pulling 145-148mph along the
main start/finish straight before the stomach-in-your-throat
dropaway that is the universally feared Paddock
Hill Bend.
I’m happy enough
with the first session. It’s nothing more
than a chance to reacquaint myself with the track
and only a handful of traffic on tricked-up bikes
and pukka racers has come past. It’s not
an exclusively booked day.
The time has almost come
to step aboard what is probably the fastest,
most powerful, most technically developed, most
accurately engineered and most expensive FireBlade
ever to be built. £70,000 of exclusive racebike
and I’m about to be let loose.
Butterflies beat furiously
in my stomach. I’m nervous of the bike’s
prowess.
As Bland bump-starts the
bike, I’m wondering what 180bhp at the
rear wheel on a short chassis will be like.
I trundle off down pit
lane, waiting for the marshals to give us the
all clear. I’m waved through as I approach
and head out down Paddock Hill.
I’ve never ridden
on slicks before and I’m waiting for the
squirminess I’ve been told to expect by
a dozen people in the past.
It’s absent. These
feel just like any road tyre, but with 100 times
more grip.
The power delivery is smooth
from tickover all the way up. There are no discernable
glitches and the torque is big. It’s not
huge, but it feels almost like this could be
a twin. Almost.
The brakes, with race compound
pads, will take some warming up, but they’re
already better than most road set-ups on the
first, cold approach to Druids Bend.
The butterflies have gone
and I’m concentrating on, er, concentrating.
That means learning the bike for the first few
laps.
The first three laps pass
strangely. I’m tickling the bike, hardly
trying at all, and it’s catching and passing
others on litre bike specials.
I’m purposely only
revving it to 9,000rpm – 4,000 short of
the redline – in this " breaking in " session
and there’s not a lot that’s quicker
in a straightline out there.
I must have McGuinness
sitting on the back steering for me, too, because
the lines are effortless through the corners
and, despite the high-set, rearset footpegs,
I’m already grinding the side of my boot
away.
And this thing has got
serious ground clearance, which can only mean
one thing – it’s leaning a long way.
McGuinness is following
me on the stock ‘Blade, sticking his front
wheel in front of me in places to show where
my lines could be better.
The circuit is dominated
by R1s, with a smattering of big bore Kawasakis
and the odd ‘Blade and SP-1 for good measure.
The SP-1 gets passed like it’s in reverse,
the Kawasakis, with the exception of one brilliantly-ridden
machine, suffer a near similar fate, and the
majority of the R1s and ‘Blades are passed
with minimum effort too.
Everyone is holding me
up around Clearways. And I don’t mean a
little bit. I mean by 20mph, or, in some cases,
a lot more. It doesn’t register why for
another few laps then, suddenly, the lights come
on. Clearways most closely replicates the kind
of corner you’d find on a fast road circuit.
It’s fairly wide, you can go in fast, and
the potential to build up speed mid-corner and
on the exit is phenomenal.
It’s a lot smoother
than most road bends but it is the kind of battleground
this bike has been built for. My toe slider,
calf, lower leg and knee are grinding away, trapped
beneath the bike, which is leant over as far
as I can possibly get it. And it’s still
not twitching.
I pull in, followed by
McGuinness, who looks like he wants to mug me
and take the special back out. He’s found
the limits of the stock ‘Blade and he’s
getting a bit bored. But he’s a true professional
and is eager to see what a journo with some club-level
racing experience makes of it.
He already knows the bike
will get a good write-up. It’s the only
kind something of this calibre could ever expect
to receive.
Then he hits me with the
words you’d never expect to hear. They
rank on a par with Angelina Jolie saying: " Of
course I’d love to sleep with you " , or
the bank manager barking: " I tell you what.
We’ll cancel your debts and start from
fresh again " .
He says: " We need to do
some photo riding in the last session. We need
to be right behind each other. Any chance you
can slow down a bit around Clearways. I can’t
keep up. "
A wry, then monster grin
breaks out across my face.
Out on the track and every
lap gets a bit quicker and I’m wondering
when the tyres are going to slide. If this was
road rubber, it would be all over by now. They
barely squirm, or complain.
To lose it, I’d need
to grab a stupid fistful of throttle out of Druids
or Clearways. I’m not about to.
We ease up for a few photo
laps. My brain goes back to tickover. What a
machine. What a tool. What would it be like on
the road?
I fleetingly try to concoct
a plan to smuggle this beauty to the Isle of
Man and its speed limitless roads. Or I could
just ride out of Brands and gas it down the empty
M20. Hmm, no fun. No bends. |
