Power Play: Blades and Bimotas

It all began quite innocently, I passed my test in 1992 and bought a two year old ZZR600. It seemed mind-bendingly fast to me and I couldn't really imagine needing anything more. I was bloody dangerous in the first few months, I had no idea how to ride a proper bike or what I should do to maintain it.

I remember thrashing past Newmarket services one day, banked well over (or it seemed that way at the time) with my chain so loose it was almost dragging on the ground. The chain snapped twenty miles later, as I pulled away from a set of lights - it could all have ended then.
Then I went through a phase racing despatch riders around London, I would show them what pussies they were, I thought. I realised the error of this game on my way to Lewisham A&E. You see I really thought I knew it all and that I was the fastest guy out there - I soon learned.

In 1994 one of the blokes at work (we'll call him TJ for the sake of anonymity) bought a Fireblade and I challenged him to a race. Logically I knew the Blade would be faster but I couldn't imagine anything better than my super-Kwak. Needless to say the Blade destroyed me, I just couldn't believe how that thing leapt away from me. I was not entirely shamed, I gave him a hard battle on the back roads but the damage was done, my beloved Kawasaki was no good any more, I needed something extra - desperately.

1st March 1995 I took delivery of my new Fireblade, as soon as it was run in it was dynojetted and a suitably loud Micron can fitted, this was more like it. TJ had hit hard times and his Blade had been sold and replaced with a 1980 Laverda Jota so I was the king again, back in my rightful place.

The Jota was thrashing the CBX1000 that I was also running at the time but I didn't care because my Blade was king. Manic speeding was becoming a way of life, I had a rule that if I didn't see 165 on the speedo I couldn't go home yet but I was only really happy with 170.

The Blade cost me a fortune to run, it had the best of everything; platinum plugs, steel braided brake hosing, Mobil 1, Slick 50 etc. etc., and it ate tyres and chains at an alarming rate, although the latter was probably due to lack of proper maintenance rather than anything else. I didn't care, though, I was having fun.

At the 1996 NEC show another one of my mates (BS) ordered a Triumph T595. I was very worried, the T595 was supposed to kick out 128bhp and he was already talking about a high race pipe!! I had to do something, my poor old Blade wouldn't be able to compete with that, but what should I buy? Japan wasn't producing anything with enough power to beat the T595 in the style I wanted, except the heavyweight bikes like the Blackbird or ZZR1100. I needed to be imaginative to stay ahead this time.

1st March 1997 saw the delivery of, not only, BS's T595 but also my new Bimota SB6. I had finally lost my mind and had paid 14,500 notes for a completely impractical bike just to stay the fastest chap on the block. The first month of ownership was manic with well over two thousand miles of running in and racing. I was determined to prove the value of my investment and would go to any lengths to do it.

The Bim's supremacy was undeniable, as soon as the power was unleashed it pulled out a length and would then gradually extend its lead right up to the devastating top speed that the (typical) Italian speedo read as only 140mph. Where the conditions prohibited the use of its extreme power the race would just be a contest as to who had the bigger balls.

I remember riding up the A12 from London to Ipswich during the rush hour one night during that March, it was dark and we were both wearing black visors but I was still determined to win. We were filtering through the queues of traffic and I was raising the speed with every car I passed seeing how fast the BS would go to keep up.

Soon it all became a blur of red tail-lights as we ripped through the line of almost pedestrian traffic at 120mph, the T595 welded to the back of the Bim. It soon became apparent that he wasn't going to give up and that if I allowed the red mist to continue in control much longer it would almost certainly end in death.

We pulled over to a pub for a few pints with hands shaking, pulses racing and grins normally only used by the insane. As I remember, we didn't dare go inside for a while in case any enraged car drivers pulled over to take vengeance on the bikes.

TJ had been out of contention for some time now and could no longer resist the fun of powerful bike ownership but still lacked the funds to buy a new state of the art toy. His choice was a 1991 GSXR1100M. I was not worried, it had an old version of the engine my bike used and was much heavier. I rode it and was certain that the Bim would have no problems.

However his plans were not complete, the GSXR went to V & M racing in Rochdale for a few weeks and returned as a GSXR1216, complete with high compression pistons and a whole bag of other goodies. This was a potential problem but I still wasn't too worried, how could a nine-year-old bike challenge my Italian stallion? Just to be sure I had race baffles fitted and a dynojet kit which gave me an extra 9bhp at the back wheel.

Once the GSXR returned and was run in we went off to find out how quick it was. TJ was raving about it, but remember he hadn't ridden anything too hot for years so I paid no attention. He faced the T595 first, while I followed behind taking notes. There was no contest, the old Suzook was away with one angry roar from its tiny Vance and Hines can, leaving the Trumpet reeling in its wake.

My turn next, I rolled up alongside at about sixty and poked TJ on the shoulder, making hand signals which clearly said 'come on if you think you're hard enough.' We passed the marker and I launched the Bimota with absolutely no mechanical sympathy whatsoever, raping it for every once of power it had, but all to no avail, that old Suzuki was furiously fast and pulled away from me comfortably. This was intolerable, I was being beaten by a bike that cost one third of mine. Obviously it was a very different story on back roads but that wasn't good enough.

Soon the maltreatment of my Bim in those races started to take its toll, despite the fact that it had only 3000 miles on the clock and had never done a wheelie (not my game - it slows you down too much) the clutch could not stand the abuse. Every time I gave it a severe thrashing air got into the fluid and it soon became impossible to engage the clutch.

I took the bike back to Galleria D'Italia who were formally the importers and a modification was carried out. When this failed to cure the problem I was told I was riding it too hard and that they had contacted Bimota who had never been aware of another similar case. Although I was proud to hear that I was thrashing my Bim more than any other owner this was little consolation when I had to bump start my bike at every set of traffic lights I encountered.

I was back to square one again, I had been number one but the stakes had been raised again. The Bimota was becoming increasingly annoying with the clutch problems being complemented by batteries, which refused to hold a charge and an alarm system that would often refuse to turn off. Once again I had to look for an alternative.

1998 brought a crop of new sports bikes, which promised to deliver new levels of performance. The Yamaha R1 was sadly too small and uncomfortable for me to contemplate so I took test rides on the ZX9R and the new Fireblade. I have to confess that both bikes tested were treated appallingly, I had not realised before how much pleasure could be derived from ruining perfectly good rear tyres just to make a bit of smoke.

If the dealers in question read this they will undoubtedly suss who I am - sorry about your tyres, chaps. The new Blade felt utterly sackless after the Bimota and the ZX9R, it was difficult to imagine how I had been excited about an older and weaker model only a few years earlier, so once again I became the proud owner of a Kawasaki (after taking 8,500 notes depreciation on the Bim in one year!).

The new Kwacker was even faster than the Bim but was soon treated to a Harris race exhaust, whose baffle I unpacked completely, and a dynojet kit, which transformed it. While out racing with a mate on a Thundercat - not much competition I know but it was all I had - I saw a speedo reading of just over 180mph for the first time in my riding career (and there was a little bit of power left!).

Fortunately I stopped to tell him about it because over the very next brow was a police patrol car, I shudder to think what he would have made of my speed, especially since this was a single carriageway.

Meanwhile TJ had become very worried for his crown, knowing full well the reason for my purchase. The GSXR has been stripped to the bone, the grab handle, rear pegs, steering damper and even the side stand all removed to reduce weight, he now has to lean it against walls when he stops (how sad is that!). The result is a stalemate, there is no separating the bikes on acceleration although I certainly have the edge on top speed.

I think he enjoys the acceleration tests more than me now as the ZX9R bucks and shakes its head all the way to 130mph and does have a slight tendency towards very alarming tank slappers if opened up on rough surfaces.

I have been forced to retire from motorcycling now, my six years has left me virtually penniless, a numb left knee which will never heal, a warped mind and a driving licence with 12 points and a warning from the courts that once more and I will be banned.

I suppose I should be happy I can still walk. I now seek refuge in a speedboat, the water is the last hiding place for speed freaks - there are no speed limits and no police (lovely). Still the points will be gone in a couple of years - and the GSXR1300 should be out by then. Hmmm.

I remember reading an article on buying FZR1000s secondhand many years ago that said you need not worry about them having been thrashed because they are too fast. Don't you believe it, every bike I have had has been thrashed unmercifully, has eaten tyres and chains and ended up with the twist grip twisted in knots where I have tried to squeeze out more power. You can certainly thrash any bike but don't blame me for the consequences.

Jerry Irving