Suzuki Hayabusa GSX-1300R
It hurts me to say it about this iconic weapon, but the big ’Busa is never going to win any prizes for its looks going by today’s standards; it would certainly look much more at home parked up in a Weight Watchers meeting than at a Miss Miami beauty pageant. You can see that every detail, from the indicators to the mudguard, have been designed with aerodynamics in mind, with, unfortunately, the result being something that resembles a fat bird whose belt and bra are too tight – there are bits bulging out everywhere.
Sat astride the big Suzuki, you’re instantly reminded of its length, the stretched out feeling being a typical trait of the GSX-R family. The low seat lulls you into a false sense of comfort, right up until the point you reach for the also low, rear angled ’bars and grasp the true nature of this sheep in sportsbike’s clothing. And if that stretched and low stance isn’t enough to put you off, the archaic analogue clock setup is enough to make you question how a bike with a ’17 plate could sport such a prehistoric setup. Fired up, the ’Busa ticked over sweetly, revved cleanly and despite all of its 266kg, foot-powered shunting was a doddle thanks to its low weight and generous steering lock. Great news if you plan on living out your days doing U-turns on single track back lanes, while wearing a high-vis vest and pointing fake speeds guns at kids on bicycles.
But for me there was so much more appeal to this bike than its mild mannered manoeuvrability, and it didn’t take long to get a proper grasp of its raw brilliance. Riding through town at a sedate pace, the placid and friendly motor was accompanied by fuelling smoother than a silkworm’s poo, but on opening the taps it pulled stronger than John Travolta at a Grease reunion. From low down the Busa drove with a ferocity that you wouldn’t expect it able to maintain all the way through its rev range, but it did just that.
Better still, unlike so many Euro 4 bikes (this is still Euro 3) there was no harsh backlash to be abused by when rolling off the throttle. There aren’t many motors that lend themselves so well to being ridden as calmly or as crazily as the ’Busa lump, which I quickly figured was its USP. What felt less endearing was the clunky gearbox that felt lumpier than school dinner custard, made all the more deplorable with its lack of a blipper or shifter. Arguably, that hang-up’s the kind of thing you’d get used to with road miles, but no matter how far I beasted this bullet there was no getting used to the lack of wind protection from the fairly low screen, which had me flopping around like a pissed-up windsock. That was something you don’t expect from a bike of this nature, being so big and bulbous.
I mean, sure, the screen is big enough to cower behind if needs be, but if you wanted to sit at 130mph on an autobahn for mile after mile you might want to have a rethink. Having said that, all that buffeting does have its advantages when it comes to slowing you down, as the standard brakes are about as capable as Pretty Boy in a novice group trackday. They really aren’t impressive. Hauling up 266kg of Suzuki takes some effort. It wasn’t long before the ’Busa’s brakes were really struggling to cope, fading progressively with heat stroke from heavy handed anchorage.
They weren’t particularly strong to start with but the more abuse I threw their way the more they protested, and the closer to the ’bar the lever came. Not the most confidence-inspiring of traits on a bike that’s capable of nearly 200mph, and quite the embuggerance when you’re trying to keep up with Dangerous Bruce on his home turf.
WHERE THE ’BUSA SHONE WAS ON THE BIG STRAIGHT ROADS.