Yamaha YZF-R1M
W hen it came to choosing the podium contenders and furnishing their bellas rodas with Bridgestone VO2 slicks, the Suzuki and Aprilia gained unanimous votes. The final place was fought between the BMW and R1M. The latter blagged some slicks thanks to a faster lap time and a racy feel-good factor only simulated by the Aprilia’s WorldSBK-derived background, something that’s almost impossible to pick faults in – it’s all about marginal gains.
In a world of soft, wobbly, flexing, road-friendly chassis from Japan, the R1M bucks trends with a rigid nature that naturally finds place on track. This manifests into making you, the pilot, feel freakin’ awesome. It’s always planted, poised and perfectly at home mid-corner at big lean, second only to the RSV4. Once again, braking was its only major concern, lacking the outright stopping power of its rivals with a guff system spoiled by non-switchable ABS workings. It’ll stop you (sometimes), you’re just not quite sure if you’ll actually make the apex...
Like its smaller brother, the R1M’s botty has a tendency to come around during heavy braking and scrubbing off major speed for Portimao’s tighter stuff. It’s all perfectly controllable, doesn’t snatch like the R6 and, frankly, I love it, although the lap time didn’t. Just a few years ago, a quickshifter was considered a luxury item. Nowadays, if there’s no blipper, it’s considered archaic and a pain in the cock, without sounding like a self-indulgent twat. Maybe a blipper would aid its meandering affinities.
Brakes aside, it’s difficult to fathom where the Yamaha loses out to the Aprilia and Suzuki – the exact same reason race teams worldwide are scratching their heads in bemusement. While slender, the Yamaha is a very tall bike, which takes some getting used to after riding the others and probably contributes to more grafting when flicking from one side to the other. There’s also an uncanny knack of causing ‘Achy Wrist Syndrome’ due mainly to narrow ’bars and extreme weight on the hands. Of course, the R1M is an animal to ride fast but no more of a raging beast than its peers, but the AWS meant sessions were strenuous.
Like the Aprilia, we felt as though the R1M needed little in the way of set-up tweaks, happy for its Öhlins to organise the required damping in A1 mode. Incidentally, Manual modes offer more grip and stability, yet nowhere near as drifty or as fun.
Corner exit is where the R1M smokes the competition, with a paranormal connection between the traction-control, slide-control and its electronic Öhlins shock, all working alongside the beautifully tractable crossplane motor. Those who bemoan electronics can do one, and obviously haven’t ridden an R1 on track and revelled in its uncrashable state – all without compromising rideability. The piss-taking on tap beggars belief, giving you the right tools to perceptibly drift and paint pretty black lines on the surface beneath. It’s crossplane art, I tell ya. If you own an R1/R1M and haven’t yet abused the system, please do so, you’re missing out.
The inline four-pot that pretends to be a big-bang is impossible to fault: rich in power from idle to redline, as fast and as involving as anything else and, above all else, beautifully usable. Some prefer the V4 soundtrack, others favour the crossplane noise, but it’s right up there with the RSV4’s immaculate conception. Its only minor gripe is the throttle action and slightly agricultural ride-by-wire execution in the racier modes, although you soon learn to ride around its quirks. Yamahas are renowned for withholding throttle inputs in their ECUs. I’ve ridden an R1M with sorted brakes, ABS system removed, and an ECU flash. It’s as good as anything I’ve ever ridden, really...