Guilty pleasures: Steve Rose’s take on the Yamaha VMAX
“If I bought you a VMAX, darling, would you let me ride it?” Okay, I’m getting desperate and my other half is far too smart to be taken in with that one. But the sad truth is that I want a VMAX. Again. I had the same sort of feeling in 1985 when the first VMAX came out, then déjà vu in 1996 when I finally got to ride one.
That first MAX was the last of a line. The end of the first great age of Japanese superbikes. Back then the biggest thing that mattered – heck, the only thing – was “how fast does it go?”
If you wanted to go quickly round corners you bought an Italian bike, or an RD350LC. Most of us weren’t that bothered about corners, all we wanted to do was go faster than anyone else in a straight line and the VMAX, released in 1985 with a claimed 145bhp, was the biggest and the baddest. Okay, truth be told, 1985 was actually year two of the great handling superbike. Suzuki’s GSX-R750 and RG500, plus Yamaha’s own FZ750 joined Kawasaki’s year-old GPz900R in being fast and nimble, too, but it took another couple of years before mainstream biking caught on. And another 24 years before Yamaha updated the VMAX.
The new bike might share a silhouette with the original but it’s a significant step further on again. Don’t be fooled by the powercruiser styling, this is a bike stuffed full to the brim of state-of-the-art tech. Fly-by-wire throttles, variable length inlet tracts, ABS brakes and suspension that looks surprisingly like Öhlins sprayed black. The V-Boost twinchoke carb gizmo has gone, as have the carbs of course, and power has leapt by a colossal 33% in line with the engine capacity. So you’d be right to expect a wild ride, wouldn’t you?
You certainly won’t be disappointed. The VMAX is insanely fast and bloomin’ well feels like it too because the riding position only serves to exaggerate the effect. Imagine, if you will, sitting in a public toilet with no lock on the door. Assume the squatting position while pushing against the door to keep it shut at the same time. That was the template Yamaha used. Now imagine that self same crapper being hit by a rocket propelled grenade and blown backwards into the middle of last week – that’s how it feels when you open the throttle. Hanging on is all you can manage. Don’t worry about control or stability – the humungous wheelbase will take care of that. But, at some point you will come to a corner and you will have to shut the throttle. Sorry.
It’s at this moment that the Yamaha unveils its biggest surprise. The handling on the new MAX is actually pretty good, once you’ve reached an agreement. My contract with the VMAX goes as follows: “I, the undersigned, promise to get my braking done nice and early (easy because the ABS-equipped ex-YZF-R1 brakes are very good indeed), release the brakes in plenty of time to allow the suspension to settle and therefore maximise ground clearance as I gently roll the bike into a turn on a nice, wide line. I, the undertalented, do also accept that on applying the throttle mid-corner the crude shaft drive will display a torque reaction not seen since BMW’s early K100 machines and attempt to kick the back wheel an inch or two to one side. But so long as I keep my nerve and eyes on the exit we will make it round the corner.”
And besides, what’s so bad about gently wagging handlebars and a slightly loose, ahem, back end.
Next to the old VMAX this one handles like a works racer. Next to a YZF-R1 it handles like a 1984 GSX1100. It’s perfectly adequate and still at least 10 years ahead of any other cruiser. There’s just one problem. At £21,795 for the 2011 model, the VMAX was (at the time) pretty much the most expensive production motorcycle you could buy. The thing is, Yamaha never tried to sell that many and there was no stock sitting in dealers. VMAXs are sold via a special website and even when this model was new, Yamaha UK only looked to sell around 100 machines a year, so the reality is that this is a bike more closely comparable with one of those crazy American choppers. As such, the bike has held it’s value pretty well, but not as well as the Diavel. A 2011 model we saw recently was up for sale for £6495 with 5200 miles on the clock. A more recent 2016 model – by comparison – would lighten your wallet by nearly £16,000.
It’s the ease of use that wins it for the VMAX for me. Slow down to legal speeds and the Yamaha is so docile, so easy to ride, that so long as you can get your legs around it (the seat is low, but very wide) you could ride it to work every day with one condition: you need to leave a little spare cash in the bank to pay for petrol. You’ll not get more much more than 33mpg, and with a 15-litre fuel tank you’ll be pushing after 110 miles and the awkward weight distribution and sharp (for a cruiser) steering head angle makes the VMAX clumsy at low speeds, feeling like it wants to flop on its side all too easily.
Annoying, but trivial next to the overwhelming desire to ride it again and again and again. I can’t afford one – probably never will be able to, but I can afford an old one. £5000 is enough to buy a real tidy older example. Hmm. “Evening, darling... have you lost weight?”
£6495 That’s the best dealer price we found for a 2011 Diavel