2017 Yamaha YZF-R6
Launched to a fanfare with angels and halos and a whirlwind of hysteria, Yamaha’s 2017 R6 was the bike we supersports fans had all been waiting for. Well, it should have been. I’m not going to lie. I think we all expected a bit more substance from the lightly revised model, although it’s still a refreshing prospect and the only new 600 you can wheel out of a showroom. If you’ve been living in a seedy pillage den for the past six months, let’s get one thing clear. The 2017 R6 isn’t ground-breaking, not that Yamaha claimed such status. Much of the previous incarnation remains but subtle tweaks have made for an effective outcome.
The Yamaha is the only new bike here and it looks like it. Fresh lines and aesthetics, R1-derived components, an even longer exhaust wanger and a light dusting of 2017ness set the Yamaha apart from the rest. Although the core fundamentals of the chassis and ergonomics remain, the new bike is much thinner with more room to manoeuvre in the cockpit. Your knees aren’t flailing in the wind and there’s additional wind protection for this season.
During the launch at Almeria, the 2017 R6’s handling was its primary upgrade for this season. Personally, I don’t think enough praise can be lavished upon the R6’s new(ish) front-end, despite the negligible changes and only the more experienced pilots thoroughly reaping rewards. It felt awesome on track at the launch, and it’s another level of awesome on Her Majesty’s highways where it really counts with a more seamless execution. Neutrality isn’t a word synonymous with R6 steering since the major update in 2006, yet it now steers with progression and a more compact sensation, not to mention brisker at change of direction. The old bike felt like a pure racer, yet there’s something more forgiving about 2017’s model.
It all goes back to that revised front-end. Pinching the KYB 43mm forks from the R1 lends the R6 more pliable road holding characteristics and muchimproved bump management, although the shock is too soft and under-damped. Why replenish the front and leave a saggy arse? Superior on track, the chassis is also vastly superior on the road, made easier to ride and able to instinctively carry greater corner speed. If only the engine made life easier.
I certainly wouldn’t advocate the use of the R6 for everyday commuting and urban missions. In standard trim, the throttle and, particularly, clutch abuse needed just to pull away is cringe-worthy. Needless to say, Euro 4 hasn’t been kind to the 2017 R6, with a more lethargic delivery than ever before. There’s a small kick at 6,000rpm before a tangible VTEC-type powerband at 10,000 as the variable inlets start to boogie. Even in Euro 4 format, the induction noise is enough to begin looking at Yellow Pages for earplug suppliers and you’ll need them as the needle has to be above 10,000rpm to maintain thrust. There’s enough usable power below 10k and above 4k for everyday, less committed riding, but the R6 gets mullered by every other bike on test unless the needle is nearing the redline. A full system and an ECU flash would remedy the R6 in one hit.
Traction control settings are largely redundant on the road. The slick quickshifter and even the rider modes certainly aren’t although, given its price tag, we’d expect a blipper as standard. Its initial liveliness and throttle action takes some getting used to, but mode A is the only option for open roads and track sorties.