Group ride: Supernakeds go wild in the Midlands in midwinter
Honda’s CB1000R and Yamaha’s MT-10 prove there’s still great riding to be had even in midwinter in the Midlands
When an animal is faced with an imminent threat, it has two options: fight or flight. Stand your ground and tackle the foe head-on, or flee to shelter for survival. and when the peculiar beast known as the British motorcyclist (velocitus hilarious) is forced to confront winter, they make a similar decision: hide or ride.
neither is necessarily wrong, but the name of this magazine tells you our response. and while there are all sorts of theories and beliefs about what makes a good winter bike, the truth is it’s probably the one that’s in your garage. a little more preparation beforehand, a bit of extra care
after the fact, and most modern machines are more than capable of shrugging off a winter ride without much bother.
Admittedly, you probably wouldn’t pick a supernaked as your first choice — not with zero weather protection and a wealth of muck-magnet nooks and crannies. But consider the positives: modern sporty streetbikes have ABS and traction control, adding safety in slippery conditions. They have power deliveries and gearing designed for accessible acceleration, softer suspension that works at modest speeds, and relaxed riding positions to give comfortable control. It doesn’t matter that they don’t have huge tank ranges (you need to stop frequently for warming cups of tea anyway), race-developed damping (no use on a slippery 3°C back-road) or a superbike’s outright power.
So that’s settled then: we’ll take the newest Japanese roadster — Honda’s CB1000R — and our current favourite — Yamaha’s MT-10 — out for a whizz through this winter wonderland. The sun’s out, heated vests are charged and thermal linings refitted. No time for Scotland or Spain; let’s just get out there and ride.
Peterborough to Towcester
At this time of year, every minute when it’s not raining, hailing, pitch black or snowing needs to be grabbed with both hands. So after filling both bikes up on the edge of Peterborough, just a few miles from RIDE’S palatial industrial-estate headquarters, we get stuck straight into the local back-roads.
Thankfully, Yamaha’s MT-10 is permanently set to thrill. At tickover the motor rumbles and grumbles just like a V-four (courtesy of its crossplane crank), raising hairs on all manner of body parts. Slicing through the sharp morning air and galloping between bare, brown hedgerows, a whisker of throttle snaps that guttural gurgle into a sonorous, soulful shriek. The connection between twistgrip and speed is disarmingly, almost alarmingly, instant — the motor doesn’t need a nanosecond’s hesitation before it charges off through the revs. The explosion of acceleration is so immediate, it’s as if the engine internals have been carved from polystyrene.
All good fun on the right day but on today’s slick, shiny roads it’s a bit of a handful. That hyperactive throttle behaves like an overtired toddler, straddling the
tipping point between infectious laughter and a massive tantrum. It’d be nice to calm things down a touch and, sure enough, there are a multitude of adjustable modes. But sat at a T-junction about to turn south onto the B660, the options are far from intuitive. The throttle and traction settings are just labelled 1, 2 and 3 — no hint which winds things up and which dials it back. What’s wrong with descriptive names, like the Honda’s Rain / Standard / Sport options? Anything would help – even Korma / Tikka Masala / Vindaloo modes.
I guess that 1 (being less than 2) means less, pull out onto the B660 and open the throttle. The LCD dash tries to head-butt my visor – perhaps I went the wrong way. The MT-10 doesn’t just have a taste for the occasional wheelie, but a ravenous appetite to lift its front. From the ludicrously tiny wheelbase (it’s shorter than an MT-09) to the abrupt power delivery to the short gearing, it’s a hooligan’s dream recipe. Depending on your tastes, it’s either additively exciting or a bit intimidating. “The MT certainly isn’t for the fainthearted,” grins Lee. Safe to say he’s a fan…
But on the twisting, rollercoaster
sections that lead to Kimbolton and on to Bedford, the MT-10’S chassis isn’t quite as encouraging as its motor. At first I put the numb front end and lack of confidence down to the wet roads and stone-cold Bridgestone S20 tyres, but things don’t improve 30 miles later. Corners need to be tip-toed round with minimal lean, something that’s frustratingly at odds with the Yamaha’s stupendous straight-line speed. It means squeezing the brakes hard on the approach to every turn, though at least there’s no issue there. “The MT’S brakes are great, and the ABS doesn’t interfere,” approves Lee. “But I don’t like how you sit on the Yamaha. You’re too high, too on top of it rather than proper sat ‘in’ it.”
We skirt round the edge of Bedford, pick up the A422 and cross through the north of Milton Keynes without getting drawn into its grid of grimness. A quick blast up the A5 and we pull over into the Super Sausage Café for warming sustenance. Looking over it in the car park, I realise just how many
bits, pieces, parts and surfaces there are on the MT. Its wealth of faffy plastic trim, from tiny tail-unit wings to flimsy fangs under the headlight, don’t do much for me. They make it look slightly toy-like, or something a bit tacky and vulgar. Lee disagrees: “No way — the Yamaha’s much better looking than the Honda,” he declares confidently. I think his eyes must have caught frostbite.
Towcester to Peterborough
Over a cup of tea, I decide that the Honda’s more restrained, more mature and more upmarket styling is far more my… um… cup of tea. The brushed aluminium touches, the traditional round headlight and an absence of pointy plastic all lend a classier air — its design language is a considered conversation, not a shouting contest.
Back on the A5, we take in a few dogleg diversions into the countryside to mix up the scenery and the pace a little. Sure enough, the Honda’s calmer character extends to its engine too. The motor’s old-school, long-stroke dimensions — identical to the 2004 Fireblade — suggest a grunty, bottom-endy, less-revvy delivery, but reality isn’t so simple. After the MT, the CB’S motor feels a lot more muted. In part that’s because of its regular flatplane-four exhaust note, but mostly it’s down to its slower-revving nature — a mix of heavier internals and taller gearing.
Open the Honda’s throttle wide and three things happen: first, it makes some more noise; second, it drives forward with composed, linear pace; then third, just as you reach the speed you want, the power gets into its stride and the CB tries to zoom off to the horizon. It’s not a peaky delivery, but the Honda’s longer gearing means the motor needs more persuasion than the eternally effervescent MT. In third gear, for example, the Yamaha makes a whopping 16% more thrust (the raw physical force pushing you forwards) than the Honda.
Truth be told, for today’s conditions I prefer the CB’S steadier, more manageable delivery. I’m surprised to discover that the normally power-crazed Skellett does too. “The Honda doesn’t feel like you’re having a a fight with it,” he explains. “Whereas even in mode 3 the Yamaha still wants to loop you over the back.”
And by the time we pick up the always entertaining B664 out of Market Harborough, I’ve no doubt that the Honda’s chassis is the smarter pick for today too. Through town the CB’S lower centre of gravity, lighter clutch action and wider steering lock give it a clear lowspeed superiority – it darts about like a confident, compact 600 roadster, while the MT is left feeling clumsy and top-heavy by
‘The Honda doesn’t feel like you’re having a fight with it’
comparison, with a far larger turning circle.
And out on open roads like this, the Honda offers far more feel for tyres and tarmac, instilling cornering confidence. “There’s a clearer front-end connection,” agrees Lee. “I think the Honda handles so much better — I don’t get the same feeling with the MT. You sit lower in the Honda than the Yamaha, you’re not sat on top of the tank.” We both suspect that the difference in feel might be down to the Honda carrying more weight on its front end, but RIDE’S scales reveal the opposite is true. While both bikes weigh an identical 212kg, the Honda is slightly tail-heavy and the Yamaha slightly front-heavy.
However it’s been achieved, the result is that the CB makes a perfect partner for the B664, which rolls elegantly through resplendent countryside and patchwork farmland. Both bikes catch a sliver of air as they crest a humpback bridge a shade too keenly, before a sharp left into Medbourne and another stop for a cuppa. We’re not the only ones who need a drink. Both bikes’ fuel lights are on – the CB’S at 105 miles, the MT’S at just 95. Despite having a slightly smaller tank (16.2 litres against the Yam’s 17), it seems the Honda’s a lot less thirsty.
After a more restrained ride through Stockerston, the road climbs spectacularly up into Uppingham, where we refuel. Sure enough, it’s another nod to the CB1000 — a 37mpg average, next to the MT’S 33mpg.
The Honda isn’t without its irritations: the sidestand tucks so tightly under the left peg that it’s a pig to find; there are tingly engine and bar vibrations on a steady throttle at higher revs; the headlight is poor at night; and the shock manages to feel both harsh over bumps yet also underdamped when you get a shift on. But overall today, the CB is proving to be a willing, encouraging partner.
There’s just enough time to get home before both the winter sun and our heatedkit batteries expire. Tomorrow the forecast is grim. But today it’s Bikes 2, Winter 0.