Do you remember when Rossi’s Yamaha M1 got cross-plane crank technology? Or when Tommy Hill raced the ‘Scunthorpe Pig’ for Rob Mac in BSB? It might have taken a few more years for the Japanese manufacturer to get this pioneering technology into the production bike scene but Yamaha’s new R1 caused quite a stir when it boomed onto the market in 2009. Of course, they were rarer than hen’s teeth that year and that was largely the reason why my team mate Richard Cooper had one, while I crashed my way around the BSB calendar on a conventional ’08 model. The new machine looked awesome, sounded exotic and put on one hell of a performance on race tracks around the world… but what was it like on the roads? That’s a question I’ve only just been able to answer, but it’s been worth the wait
For me the 2009 R1 will always be special and despite being eleven years old and looking like an R6 that’s raided a cake shop (several times), they still rank highly on my desirability list. This bike was cutting edge when it first came out and not just because it was kitted with a gear indicator in the clocks, or three throttle maps that allowed you to switch between ‘aggressive’, ‘really aggressive’ and ‘only if you’re brave/stupid aggressive’. The Yamaha Chip Controlled Throttle was also pretty novel, and a quickshifter also came as standard. In fact, this bike was the most technologically advanced machine on the market before the BMW rocked up a year later and stole its thunder, as such. In truth, the Beemer never sounded half as good as the thunderous R1, which was made all the sweeter in this ks to the owner’s decision to fit two ASBO-inducing Graves cans under the pillion seat. Let’s be honest, a big chunk of a motorcycle’s appeal is the way it sounds, and as I slipped the Yammy into gear, introduced some revs and teased out the pulsating clutch lever, I’d all but signed my theoretical cheque book. God, it sounded good. My other first impressions were realising how big it felt, followed by how the tall seat and high pegs induced an arse up, head down stance whether I liked it or not. Egged on by low clip-ons, it felt the sportiest of the trio, being most akin to a pukka racer, and pulled from low down like it was on the hunt for a chequered flag… or at least once I’d got the engine spinning. Unlike the Honda and Kawasaki, it was really quite lumpy down low, and left me feeling like it would have a heart attack if I ever let the rev counter drop below 2,000rpm again. Nope, it didn’t like that, but with a twist of my wrist the R1 was in its element, bounding along with zero hesitation. Nowadays, we’re spoilt with the latest R1’s CP4 motor and its brilliant performance, but it was great to get back to basics and appreciate how big a step forward the big-bang R1 was for Yamaha. In terms of punch out of corners, nothing on the market could match it, and I was indulging in that reality first hand as I powered between bends with a huge smile on my face. It still felt plenty fast, smashing its way through the rev range and omitting a tantalising soundtrack. Unprompted, the front wheel wasn’t prone to leaving the ground, the rear wheel always felt tractable and the gearbox was faultlessly obliging. My only real hang-up was the sharp throttle pick-up that seemed to niggle the seamless flow of the ride each time I asked for power. There was also a good chunk of backlash to note, which on occasion upset this machine’s underdamped setup.
It was good of Rossi to lend us his bike