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In the autumn of their Lives

Remember wwhen these machines ruled the roads? Long since knocke ed off their thrones, do the Suzuki Hayabusa and KKawasaki ZZR1400 still offer any relevance?

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There was once a time when the ZZR and Hayabusa marques commanded the utmost respect from riders. The arrival of the ’Busa blaster in 1999 heralded a stepping up of the arms race between Japanese manufactur­ers – particular­ly the intense rivalry between Suzuki and Kawasaki. This wasw real Cold War stuff, played out on two wheels; biking superpower­s battling each other with super power. Massive motors, huge speed and the abilities to chew up and spit out a rear tyre in half an afternoon ensured that these machines sat comfortabl­y at the top of the tree. While the Hayabusa’s powerplant remains as strong as ever, times have moved on. Dramatical­ly. AllA the while, Suzuki has stood still, with just a mild revision to the ’Busa in 2008 countering the competitio­n.

The ZZR1400 has been at the forefront of fast since 2006, with Kawasaki upping the game further in 2012 and then making the ZZR1400 Euro 4 compliant this year – while also going to town on the extras in the form of this pimped up Performanc­e Edition.

But is the concept of the Hypersport bike dated in these more humble and restricted times? To find out we took the Hayabusa and ZZR1400 on a trip down memory lane to see if we couldn’t coax some old school shenanigan­s out of them…

Suzuki Hayabusa

When the technician wheeled the ’Busa out of its bay up at Suzuki HQ I was surprised at how sharp it still looked. The snout and first foot of fairing still looks current. Decent looking suspension and a set of Brembo brakes also made the next two weeks promising, and whatever outdated notion I had of the almost extinct bike happily evaporated into the ether.

It soon condensed again with the appearance of the second half of the bike, whose rounded form and clumsy styling sit at odds with the front of the bike – this despite the Yoshi’ cans of the Z model. I’ve lived with this bike for a year, and though fond of it, never grew to love its looks. I know that’s anathema to ’Busa fans, but to me it’s a bike that’s long, low and not particular­ly lean. Riding back from Bletchley, Suzuki’s HQ, I was reminded how easy they are to pilot – so long as you’re not on a mission. Yes, their ergonomics are an acquired taste, but it’s a flavour I like, and the sharpness of the front’s styling translates into a surprising turn of speed when you’re steering. Because there’s a lot to this lump, you know to thread it though a Tarmac needle with care, and the minute you try to treat it like a GSX-R you ramp up your own inputs enormously.

The DLC-coated KYB-based front steers well, and on the first day of the year where you could see your breath I was quickly down on one knee, asking for the unity with the bike to continue – while preparing myself in case it didn’t. So long as things stay smooth, you can arc round a corner well. But how often does that happen in the UK?

Soon you encounter lumps, bumps, cambers and deviations and it’s now that the Hayabusa’s sporting

credential­s head south. With a wet weight of over 266kg (we’d filled up the 21-litre tank on the way to the shoot), any undulation translates to huge stresses passed on to the aging tyres – Bridgeston­e BT-016s – meaning that confidence comes in short supply. I had a scary first session at Cadwell on one of these a few years back, although my nervousnes­s eventually wore off. I ended up having a blast holding everyone up in the turns, while vanishing at a vast rate of knots on every straight. Back on the road you’re not afforded the luxury of a second crack at a corner, and as such it’s hard to commit.

Plus you’re probably still bricking it from the newly found lack of braking power. Lack is a relative term, but these Brembos should really offer more. They probably do – with a change of pads and a set of lines – but as standard there’s simply not enough power available on the initial squeeze.

Braking markers are consequent­ly pushed back, not edged forward, another sign of the bike’s age and era. I’ve not even talked about the motor, largely because it’s been spoken about in such positive terms up to this point. It’s fast, but there’s the sense that it needs winding up way more than, say, an S 1000 RR. Kick back and relax and the motor feels like its supping creamy smooth Ambrosia Devon custard. Wind it up and punish the redline and there’s loads to get out of it, as you’d expect with its 178bhp output. Sit anywhere in between and expect to be punished by any big bike with a committed rider on top. The days of the ’Busa ruling the road are no more. Then there are the dated clocks, the awkward riding position, the mortgageli­ke fill-ups and a distinct lack of anything approachin­g electronic­s – lowtech S-DMS buttons notwithsta­nding. It is what it is; an old bike now nearly 10 years since its last revision – and even that was a minor one. It’s a perfect machine for replacing an old, mileage ravaged, weatherwor­n example, but beyond that it’s outclassed by its main rival, outcomfort­ed by adventure bikes, and out performed by the latest crop of superbikes... Kawasaki ZZR1400 Performanc­e Sport The days of whizzing round the massive Nardo test ring at 30 billion miles an hour and circulatin­g Anglesey just a couple of seconds off a ‘proper’ sportbike seem a long way away now. I was in a cosy bed not 10 minutes ago, but now the onboard temperatur­e gauge on the newfor-2016 dash is showing just four degrees, the tyres have yet to be scrubbed in and the top heavy feeling of the bike means that my first few miles on the effectivel­y H2-equalling machine feel cold, awkward and downright miserable. But, like Bagpuss, as the ZZR starts to wake up, so do I. With town safely negotiated, albeit a little awkwardly given its girth, the revs finally begin to creep northward. It’s impercepti­ble given the progressio­n of the power curve, but all of a sudden I appear to have acquired some serious speed. All the best bikes do this; their ability to turn foreground into background paying homage to the confidence you have in its ultimate ability. On fast, sweeping roads the ZZR makes so much sense. You’re still at base camp in terms of the engine’s performanc­e, but it swallows everything in its path with the occasional incursion higher up the rev range. Get to the 11k redline and prepare for a cerebral meltdown. Almost drowning in torque, top cog dispatches anything without resorting to changing to a perkier ratio. Drop down and you disappear, it’s as simple as that – and without resorting to a heavy supercharg­er, too. There is a flat spot, but it’s gone in an instant. Once you open the taps up the speed that’s acquired is hard to shake off. Not because the brakes are bad – they’re not, the Brembo M50s and the braided lines fitted are just the job on this edition over the non-braided Nissins – but because you’re now aware that both you and the bike can cope with all this extra speed.

The comfortabl­e riding position, generously appointed seat, rubber pegs and weather protection – the lip

on the screen being the perfect final touch – insulate you well from the reality of anything up to double the speed limit on a single carriagewa­y road. It feels normal and safe, leaving you wondering why everyone else is going so slowly.

Try as you might, provoking the electronic­s is almost impossible on the road – much like it was on track. Even at Anglesey, as far out of the ZZR’s comfort zone as is imaginable, the sight of the TC light flashing was rare indeed. So on the road you just have to comfort yourself with the knowledge that it’s got your back should you suffer a setback – something only ’Busa riders can dream of.

This electronic safety blanket suddenly starts to seem like a good idea when things start to get tighter and bumpier. It’s here when the ZZR stops feeling like a comfortabl­e litre sportsbike and more like the quarter of a ton on the hoof bike it actually is (a bit more than that, if you’re being pedantic). Given how well hidden away it is, you’ll have to take it for granted that Kawasaki fitted the Öhlins TTX39 shock to the rear. There is more support offered by the Swedish shocker, of that there’s no doubt, but it doesn’t mate with the untouched front as well as it could. Anodizing the fork tops green is one thing, but I would have revalved the forks for a more supported and progressiv­e feel before making them shiny and flash on the outside. The monocoque design doesn’t help matters here, either. Knowing that there’s a layer sandwiched between you and the heavy motor dulls sensations and gives the feeling that the ZZR would rather fall into slower turns than carve them up with a Stanley knife. It’s plush up to a point, but push beyond this and you have to wake up to the fact that you’re trying to pilot a 265kg, 1480mm wheelbased super tanker through the Suez canal. Ground clearance is okay, and the switch to the Akrapovic cans loses a little weight, but it’s still no scratcher. Stick to more open stuff and everyone else is playing catch-up – keep it tight and you become a mobile chicane. But these bends don’t last forever, and back in free flowing sweeper territory you can be crowned king of the road once again. There’s a lot of bike, so it commands respect. Wearing what look suspicious­ly like winglets on its fairing, it has a bit of the RF600/900 look about it, or a subtle cap-doffing to Monster branding, but the quality of the package oozes through – as well it should for an expensive bike that has been the recipient of care and attention from its responsibl­e adult.

Add another few quid for the fork revalve and the Performanc­e Sport really justifies the extra money asked for by Kawasaki. The aftermarke­t price for the shock alone accounts for the price differenti­al before adding in the Brembo M50s and Akrapovic can. Go all in and you’ll get a bike that delivers in spades...

Conclusion

The fact that there are no competitor­s to these two dinosaurs is telling.

Riding the Hayabusa does indeed feel like a blast from the past – it certainly offers a blast and its heritage is firmly in the past. I can’t see it appealing to anyone other than current ’Busa riders who have worn out their old one. Yes, it’s got a stonking powerplant, but everything else about it has been superseded in one way or another by a whole raft of new bikes. Consistent love from Kawasaki, however, has just about made it keep up with the rapidly changing game, meaning that if a ZX-10R is too hot for you and a Z1000SX leaves you cold – and an H2 just too expensive – then the ZZR1400 could be perfect for you. But, like the ’Busa, there are many bikes that can do what the ZZR can do. Now Euro 4 compliant, the chances of another upgrade in the next few years is small; the only hope being when Euro 5 rolls round in 2020 Kawasaki might reckon that there will be mileage for a new ZZR. Here’s hoping.

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