‘It quickly becomes a game of keeping up momentum’
their dust out of roundabouts.
I’m acutely aware of gradients on what I thought to be flat pieces of road and have to feather the throttle to keep life in the battery. Like a teenager on a moped it quickly becomes a game of keeping up momentum and I’ll do anything to stay off the brakes; holding my breath through corners, hanging back from roundabouts and surging through gaps without stopping. And if I catch back up with those truckers I use them for a cheeky slipstream. Downhill stretches offer the chance to save power and even regenerate, but even on the steepest, longest shoots the range only restores by a tenth of a mile, or so. Knobbly tyres don’t roll as smoothly as conventional rubber and aerodynamics aren’t helped with the DSR’s tall screen and luggage. Riding frugally won’t attract attention from the fun police, but it lets me squeeze a steady one per cent of charge per mile. It gets us 104.5 miles to Stratford, with just 5% remaining for our first recharge. Now it’s a two-and-half-hour wait to get the battery up to 84%. We could wait another half an hour to top it up completely, but it’s 2.15pm and it’ll be sunset in a few hours. Charging points are sporadic through the Cotswolds and with big hills and lots of stop/start traffic taking their toll we have to stop just 58 miles later in Cirencester and the next chance to plug in won’t be until Milton Keynes, 72 miles away. We’re back on the road and now its dark. From Cirencester to Bicester is mostly tree-lined, unlit and the blackness is barely illuminated by the Zero’s headlight, which has all the brightness of a dying candle. Into the bright lights of Milton Keynes and the Zero’s cramped quarters and hard seat are starting to get uncomfortable. As tempting as it is to check into our edge-oftown hotel, there’s no charging point nearby so we head back into the centre and once again wait a few hours to juice-up the Zero’s battery. For the final leg home the next day I swap bikes with MCN Office Manager, Alison Silcox, and jump on the Honda. Although the Zero can easily do the schlep from back to base
‘The Zero’s light has the brightness of a dying candle’
for a recharge, I’m still riding with care, to see if the CB500X can do the whole test on one tank of fuel. Even running with the Honda’s reserve light flashing the stress of range anxiety has melted away; there are loads of petrol stations to nip into, if needs be. The Honda is more fun and involving, too, with its clutch, brakes and parallel twin motor burbling away. It’s every bit as well built as the Zero, but its sixspeed gearbox is harsh and clunky. Crossing the MCN250 finish line two days and 293 miles after we started, the Zero has needed three charges, but the Honda has breezed it on a single tank with another 20 miles worth of gas in hand. We’re out again for a third day, taking pictures on the parts of the 250 closest to base. Without the worry of battery range it’s my first chance to ride the Zero normally, but it doesn’t quite accelerate like a superbike, like it says on their website. Acceleration is similar to a maxi scooter and the top speed is restricted to 70mph (in ECO mode). Ride quality is harsh and crashy, the J-Juan brakes lack power and it’s too small to comfortably carry a pillion. Simply, the Zero doesn’t offer the performance or have the equipment of a 20 grand bike. It’d be fine for a daily commute, but doesn’t delight even like a modest CB500X. It’s sure to change in the future with new tech, but until charging times start to fall, the fear of running out of juice is all-consuming and spoils the ride.