In the time that I’ve been riding superbikes, three models have come along that have changed the entire paradigm.  The first was in 1992 with the first Fireblade, and the second in 1998 with the birth of the R1.  The third time was late last year, with BMW’s release of the S1000RR.  Unanimously voted superbike of the year, it’s been widely hailed as revolutionary.  And I finally got a chance to put one through its paces this morning.

I pootled away from the dealership in Caterham-on-the-Hill very gently, with the utmost respect for the nuclear reactor below me.  My first impression was a solid, planted feeling, as the Akrapovic exhaust burbled gently away.  Onto the M25, and I gave it a bit more as the roads dried out.  Then onto the A21 to Hastings, where I deemed it dry enough to switch out of Rain mode and into Sport.  With an empty stretch of road ahead I slowed to 100 kph, dropped to 3rd, and Gave It The Beans.   And the world stopped.

Just like that scene from The Matrix where the camera spins around Keanu, suspended in mid-air, my world paused.  And then erupted.  Every single one of those 193 horses pushed my eyes outwards towards the sides of my head, making me look like Jacob Zuma.  My guts were ripped free from their anchors inside my abdomen, and my lungs were pushed around to my back.   The laws of physics were briefly changed to allow the horizon to be shoved vigorously behind me.  5000 revs later I slowed down, and the Arai’s complex laminate structure was tested to the full, keeping my smile from bursting out of the sides of my face.  I found myself giggling hysterically inside the helmet.  It’s difficult to explain the light-headed feeling that comes from that many Gs acting on your pip.  I slowed to 50 kph, dropped to 2nd, and gave it the good news again.  As the world blurred, the front wheel went light as it reached for the sky.  The complex gyro-assisted electronics took over and limited the wheel’s ascent, compensating for the ham-fistedness of mere mortals like me.  3 seconds later I was north of 160 kph, and still pulling like a Saturn V rocket.

This machine is absolutely staggering.  I have never encountered its equal.  I’d like to compare it to some sort of car for reference, but nothing comes close.  You could hit 100 kph and be stationary again before a Porsche 911 approaches the 100 mark.  It is an exceptional technological tour de force that I strongly recommend you experience.  But you’ve been warned – take a spare pair of undies along.

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