Suzuki Hayabusa 2001

As a result there will never be another motorcycle to match the top speed of the Suzuki Hayabusa. To see what all the fuss is about Bikepoint spent some time in the company of the Suzuki Hayabusa.

What is it?
It is THE fastest production bike the world has ever seen, it's a 1298cc, liquid cooled, 16-valve, four cylinder making over 170ps @ 9800rpm and 138.2Nm of torque at 7000 rpm. This is the bike that can do over 300 kph. Motorcycle history will remember it for that reason alone, and I'm certain in years to come it will become a collector's item.

Three hundred kilometres an hour is very, very fast in anybodies language, to put it in perspective that's 83.4 metres a second. Pick a point 83 metres away and count "one". You're there.

In order to rip you through the atmosphere at that speed the Hayabusa uses a mere 170ps, although to be fair 'only' about 150/160 make it to the rear wheel. It's all about ultimates you see. It's unlikely there will ever be any other motorcycles that will deliver the same power and speed in the future, the faceless politicians and safetycrats will see to that. Already the 'Busa is limited to a sensible (hahahahaha) three hundred, denied its full potential by an electronic restrictor that cuts one injector at 10,800rpm in order to satisfy the Euros that reckon somehow you are safer at three big ones than three twenty.

It should be said that whoever thought of that particular method of restriction had a particularly sick sense of humour, as the last thing you want to hear with three big ones on the dial is the sound of the motor misfiring!

Yet to see the big Busa as just an exercise in number generation is to miss something quite important, and that is it's a very nice bike to ride. Over the past couple of weeks the big 'Busa has been performing the commuting duties, Sunday squirting through the hills, two up trips and everything else in between.

While the Hayabusa's power and speed is inescapable, and riding one is like trying to keep a Rottweiler in pillow case, you can't help but be impressed by how civilised it is. You can commute, tour and dawdle about with absolute confidence, you can almost convince yourself that ownership is not an indulgence, but a practical and sensible decision made out of careful examination of the pros and cons, and the truth is, it is.

What's it like to ride?
Lets start with what it's like at low speed. By low speed we mean anything below 100kph. For a bike weighing 215 kg dry, steering at low speed is actually very light, and the bike possesses a surprising amount of steering lock which makes all that city ducking and diving a doddle. However the riding position places an unwelcome amount of strain on the wrists. This means any prolonged session of traffic dodging will soon have the tortured tendons protesting. Footrest position is the same, for my 180cm frame I found my legs just felt a bit too cramped. Apparently shorter people don't suffer as much.

Having a large capacity engine means that there's never any shortage of bottom end torque, and the fuel-injected engine on the 'Busa delivers seamless power from the moment the clutch bites through to it's devastating top end. Another benefit is that you'll never be caught out in the wrong gear. Any gear is the right gear, and if it's not the right gear, it'll do.

At the speed limit and beyond the 'Busa's aerodynamics really start to work. A surprising and most welcome spin off from this is that as speed increases, so does the fuel economy! The 'Busa has a neat gizmo that works out your fuel consumption for you, and the best result seen on a 1500 km round trip was a very acceptable 18 km/l. This means that in theory, the twenty two-litre tank could give a range of close on four hundred kilometres! If the aerodynamics help the bike slip through the air, then what wind pressure there is helps rider comfort immeasurably. All the weight that caused such wrist strain lifts off, and the whole bike starts to feel like it's working in the manner the design team tended intended.

Road holding in the really snotty twisties and at speed is the next thing that impresses. I'd heard that the 'Busa handled as well as a 750, and although that was an unashamed bit of promo bollocks, I have to say that the 'Busa, despite its weight and length is a veritable weapon. Changes of line are easy and reassuring, and the suspension, which seems to be completely unflappable, rides just about any bumps you care to throw at it with complete top shelf composure. Even with a 70kg passenger thrown into the equation. Deserving of a special note are the Bridgestone 010 Batlax tyres which, although they didn't last long (about 2500 kms) gave exceptional grip even when the roads were wet. Ground clearance is more than enough for fast road work and goes a long way to making 'Busa the best heavyweight corner carver on the market, and more than able to chest it up with 'real' sports bikes.

When it comes to brakes, Suzuki have quite rightly gone with six piston calipers acting on big 320mm fully floating discs. Feel at the lever is sensitive and allows the rider to modulate the enormous braking power with a high degree of finesse. Likewise with the 240mm rear which is also strong and sensitive. I read somewhere that the rear-brake only contributes three percent to the braking distance. If that three percent is the difference between hitting something or stopping before it I'll have a rear brake I can use thanks. I'm always amazed at how different manufacturers go about deciding which brakes should be on what bikes. Of course there are going to be mistakes but with the 'Busa, Suzuki made a good choice.

Should you buy one?
Assuming you have made the decision that you don't mind the cost of replacing tyres every 5000 kms, then the answer would have to be yes. As has been suggested, it's probably no more expensive to run than any other high horsepower sports motorcycle. The real reason though is far more subjective. The 'Busa is one of those bikes that will be remembered for a long - long time; and every red blooded motorcyclist that has ridden it against the stop and felt the relentless power suck the breath out of their lungs will have the priceless memory of having ridden the fastest standard motorcycle on the planet.

Sooo, what's it like to do 300?
Some will tell you it's kind of eerie and casually tell you about the blurring scenery, narrowing track lines etc, I'm here to tell you what it's like for unfit forty somethings who've met death a couple of times already and have seen his handywork.

You start by winding back the throttle in third. As you drop down behind the bubble and try to make your large self small, the engine is making serious power and you're sliding backwards against the seat hump. By this time the engine is screaming towards 200 and your arms feel like they're at full extension. Fourth clicks home and the bike is now leaping towards the horizon that no longer exists in the blur of colours that once was your surroundings. The wind is tearing at your leathers and every little part that's loose or protruding into the angry airflow is trying to pull you off the back of the bike. Your once snug fitting helmet is jammed against your forehead, and you're conscious of the struggle of tensing your neck muscles just to hold your head in a position that lets you see where your going. Chin on the tank you mistakenly think you might get a hand behind you, the wind snatches and flings the arm back like a rag, the fight to get the hand back on the grip is tremendous but you get there and hang on, like your life depends on it. It does.

Fixing a spot and aiming, fifth goes home and you move your backside back and up to let your torso down out of the wind. Looking at the speedo is no longer registering as the bars thump, jump and twitch in your hands. You tell yourself to relax but it doesn't work, so you remember to breathe instead, the dial is close to the the magic 300 but all you can think about is the wind and how to get down out of it. The noise is shrieking, screaming in your head incredible, the concentration mind stunning as you wait for the limiter to cut in to say you made it. When it does you snap the throttle shut and make another mistake, sitting up to slow down. Like being hit in the chest with a refrigerator. Braking, slowing through a pedestrian 200 down to 160 you feel like you could get off and walk now. You realise you're feeling light headed, silly laughing and wobbly leg shaking. You turn around and head back up the track to do it again.