Michael Rutter versus the 'too-fast-for-the-road' class of 2015 - MOTOR GERR

When the person uttering the sentiment is one Michael Rutter Esq., whose CV of road sport achievements is longer than most people’s history, you are taking notice. It should take one thing pretty bushy to widen the eyes of a 13-times NW200, eight-times Macau and four-times TT winner.

On this occasion, though, we’ve simply ridden 5 miles across city to stock up at a garage. Michael smiles. “There ar sometimes fewer cars around once I’m on a motorbike,” he explains.

Rutter, myself and Confederate soldier waterproof brim the 3 red machines before warding off for daily tearing county a brand new one. As I procure the fuel I look out over rows of manduction gum, and across at the court wherever the Yamaha R1, Ducati 1299 S and BMW S1000RR ar gathered around the pump, huddling in an exceedingly conspiracy of outrageous performance.

I run through numbers in my noggin: the Yam is 190bhp, the BMW 196bhp, therefore too the Ducati. With a decent launch they’ll hit 180mph from a standstill in barely over 0.5 a mile. In high gear, they take but ten seconds to roll on from 40mph to 120mph. that's simply loony.

But all 3 ar festooned with stylish, race-derived electronic technology that creates such extreme performance a) doable and b) not simply survivable, but an absolute hoot to use. Getting away with it has never been so hilariously, outrageously easy.


Eighteen years ago the scene would have included the original R1, perhaps Aprilia’s RSV Mille, or a Ducati 916; maybe a ZX-9R. Great bikes, thrillingly explosive in their day. But the new breed of electronically-enhanced litre sportsbikes quicken the pulse like never before, no matter how old and doddery we’re getting. You’re never too washed-up for a race rep, and they still reduce us to giggling kids. Although watching Johnny and Rutter clowning about with paper towels as they wait at the pumps, it’s not as if they need help...

We fire up in a supersonic thunder of mixed firing intervals, massive 90° V-twin detonations mingling with the V4-esque warble of Yamaha’s crossplane motor and the straight mechanical bark of BMW’s 180° inline four. Out of the garage, we fight through queues of crawling traffic to get to the interesting roads. But it gives us the chance to get an idea of the new R1 away from its natural, open road habitat.

“The Yam is a small bike with a big riding position,” says Johnny before we ride off. “It reminds me of the Aprilia RSV4. Nice big seat, bars are reasonable; I could go a long way on it. It looks like it’s going to be torture, but it’s not.”

He’s right. The Yamaha is small, but not ridiculously, 250 tiny. It’s R6-sized, which means it looks like it won’t fit when you eye it up warily from a distance, but as soon as you’re onboard it feels just about big enough. Compact, ready for action, but not daft.

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