Yamaha YZF-R6
Ialways thought Black Beauty was a horse, or a pornstar, depending on my state of mind. It turns out that, for 2017, it’s the new R6, which was undoubtedly the busiest steed at SBOTY and hilariously fun given the power shortage. While the litre clan resembled mild euthanasia clinics on wheels, the lil’ Yammy provided easy peasy sessions for the mind, body and soul. It was a toy – in every sense of the word.
Despite the R6 being the first bike I rode out of Portimao’s pitlane, it still felt agonisingly slow when the clutch was released. It takes a hefty amount of throttle and equal amounts of clutch abuse just to get the wheels turning, and Euro 4 hasn’t been kind despite Yamaha’s best efforts. Churning out just 104bhp at the rear wheel, its castration is all too evident as it wheezes and lethargically builds momentum. Twist the throttle, it shouts ‘pass the fucking Ventolin,’ particularly with man-size pilots plonked on its saddle and a wide-open GP-style circuit did little to mask its power deficiencies. A-mode, although lively, is really the only option for track sorties.
Ironically, the delivery is as linear as it’s ever been since the 2006 overhaul. That’s not an excuse to become lazy with revs, as the R6’s needle still needs to be well over 11,000rpm to party. That said, its optimistic redline doesn’t need bothering, as power tangibly curtails at around 15,000rpm. Even so, it managed 148mph – just 20mph shy of the big boys. The cable needed stretching like no other, limbs contorted and tucked behind the fairing for every possible mph and braking zones reduced by 50m in most cases. A de-cat and ECU flash later, and you’ll unleash its true potential; a free-revving supersports weapon capable of far more. The chassis could certainly endure another 30bhp.
The R6’s missing ponies gave us more time to boogie in the bends. To be less than three seconds off the 1299 Panigale, while lacking 80bhp, gives you some idea of how corner-happy this little fiend is, and this was the perfect reminder of the joys of spanking lesser machinery. If you’d like to master the art of corner speed, look no further. It’s effortless in change of direction – even easier than the previous model – and the abuse the revised front-end can withstand
on sticky rubber is staggering. The brakes aren’t as wooden as befbefore and the front wheel feels
mo ore planted the harder you pussh, provoking exploitation witth every lap that passes.
IIt wasn’t quite the immaculate ride that we were treated to at thee launch in Almeria. The extra heaat and pace that comes as a by--product of SBOTY overworked thee shock, which slowly evolved into a bouncy castle as the dammping mysteriously dissappeared. It’s a shame that
Yam maha overhauled the front- end andd overlooked the rear, althhough set-up tweaks may
pacify the wallow. The R6 also developed a penchant for backing in during vigorous downshifting, particularly when first gear was called upon, which was essential at Portimao given the lack of grunt at one’s disposal.
Despite the shock misdemeanours, the innate chassis talent always ensures you’ll meet an apex. It favours wide, sweeping lines in order to maintain corner speed, and its traction control was rarely called upon in the Algarve. Another positive to offset the misery of its gutless powerplant was the lack of fatigue in 30º heat, and its prowess when tackling Portimao’s myriad of crests and descents; no willy-waving power meant a calmer, more manageable execution.
In truth, the R6 was never going to be a SBOTY contender. Then again, Tim Farron will never be in contention to run this country, but that doesn’t prevent him from having a bash. We’d rather the R6 ran this country anyway...