Even Ducati racing legend Giancarlo Falappa thought it a good idea for McDermott to ride the factory WSBK Superbikes. Hold it .. image by dean adams

Continued

Carlos Checa's Hannspree Ten Kate CBR1000RR

I was really glad that the first bike I'd be riding was the Hannspree Ten Kate Honda CBR1000RR. The road version of the CBR has a well established reputation as the most user friendly of the inline four liter bikes, and this strand of DNA wasn't lost in the Ten Kate SBK conversion of the bike. That said, my heart was absolutely pounding as I threw a leg over the bike—I had a lot of new things to adapt to. I've never ridden with a reverse, race style gearbox. This would be my first ever ride on a bike shod with slick tires. And of course, this was a 200+ horsepower bike with exotic electronics, carbon fiber, billet and magnesium everywhere, worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. When someone lets you try their streetbike, you do your best to make sure you bring it back in the same condition, the last thing you want to do is crash the thing, you know? Well, amplify this feeling about 300,000 times, and that's how I felt as I clicked the bike into gear and rolled down pit lane.

When someone lets you try their streetbike, you do your best to make sure you bring it back in the same condition, the last thing you want to do is crash the thing, you know? Well, amplify this feeling about 300,000 times, and that's how I felt as I clicked the bike into gear and rolled down pit lane.

The LED & LCD displays on the dash were throwing a ton of information at me, red numerals, flashing lights, and rev counter. I quickly told myself to ignore the light show, and get to grips with riding the bike. Checa's pegs were very high and rear-set, making the riding position quite cramped. Carlos is maybe 8 inches shorter than me, and probably 70 pounds lighter, so this was no surprise. Initially, I didn't move around much on the bike, I was just trying to ease into the power and brakes, get a feel for the tires. By the 3rd lap, I started to relax a bit. The Ten Kate CBR was easy to ride, with great midrange torque, precise throttle response and a lack of engine braking that didn't let the bike fall on it's face when you rolled off the gas. The brakes felt amazing, just a light touch would slow the bike almost magnetically, with big stopping power just a little bit further into the lever travel. Turn in was super quick, and when it was on it's side, the CBR felt planted like no bike I'd ever ridden. The Pirelli slicks were so grabby that I didn't think about them at all. Each lap on the bike felt better, I got more into the power, the engine had possessing deep character and soul. The roar the bike emitted with increased revs was intoxicating, a pulse raising soundtrack that raised in volume between every corner.

I missed probably 30 shifts during my 5 laps, the reverse gearbox configuration bunged me up all day long, and the CBR1000RR probably got the worst of it. As my laps ended and I brought the bike back into the Ten Kate pits, I was physically shaking. Chattering like a methhead, energy sparking off my fingertips, I was feeling the first hit of a deep flow of adrenaline that would course thru my veins all day long. I had survived my first ride on a World Superbike, all the nervousness I had felt ever since Dean's initial email started to dissipate. Now I could just have fun.

Troy Bayliss's Championship Winning Ducati 1098 F08

Five laps of Paradise on Bayliss's 1098 F08, a Bolognese masterpiece. Wonder if it would fit in that Joe Rocket bag..... image: thanks FG Sport

In 1991, I saw my first Ducati in the flesh, a bright red 907 i.e. Paso, parked at Al Dowd's Beefalo in Cold Spring Harbor, NY. The owner had purchased the bike from the notorious Ghost Motorcycles in Port Washington. I spent a half hour looking at the bike, poring over every detail, as though I'd never see a Ducati again. They were pretty rare bikes in those days. I got bit by the bug pretty bad; ended up buying a 900SS from Ghost myself. There were posters of Doug Polen and Raymond Roche on the walls of that place, just above stacks of 851, 888 SP, Hailwoods and Pantahs. Curiosity about the exploits of these men on those red bikes led me to seek out World Superbike racing, first as a fan, much later as a writer. On a hundred nights I fell asleep with dog eared copies of Cycle, American Roadracer or Cycle World in my hands, re-reading a test of a Raymond Roche Replica, Polen's Ferracci 888, or the first Fogarty 916. Without question, my ultimate dream was to ride a factory World Superbike Ducati one day, a dream which would likely never come true.

So to walk into the Xerox Corse Ducati garage last Monday morning and shake crewchief Ernesto Marinelli's hand, while the mechanics rolled Troy Bayliss's 1098 F08 out onto pit lane for me to ride, was one of the peak "pinch me" moments of my entire life. Bayliss had won the final races of his WSBK career on this bike. An engineer told me that the anti-wheelie and anti-spin were fully active; and that brand new slick tires had been slotted in, the same compound Troy had run in the race. I kneeled next the bike and grabbed the footpeg in a half- assed Valentino Rossi good luck ritual. The mechanics gave me a look that said "Craftsman doesn't make a tool as big as you" so I hopped on the bike and took off down pitlane. I've ridden or owned about 20 different Ducatis over the years but I figured the 1098 F08 would be totally different, an uncomfortable beast.

Surprise, surprise—the riding position was actually roomy. The 1098 felt tiny, very easy to move around on. Bayliss's footpegs were low and forward in comparison to Checa's bike, perhaps because Troy is a taller guy than Carlos. As I ran thru the gears, I felt the slipper clutch click thru the lever, just as it had on the 749R I owned. The brakes were perfect, you could scrub off speed trail braking into a corner with a light 2 finger touch, then squeeze progressively harder to throw the anchor out. The suspension response was like liquid plasma - super compliant on bumps, but open the throttle hard, and it firmed right up and dug in. The throttle response, however, was the part that impressed me the most. It was like the gas was hard wired to my brain. It was incredibly easy to get exactly the revs you wanted, like you could modulate in 100 rpm increments if need be. The midrange power was so meaty, you could ride 75% of the track in one gear. Only when spooling the bike up to the higher revs did I get an idea of the "useable violence" of the F08's motor, there was just tons of power upstairs. The most shocking thing about the Xerox 1098 F08 was how similar it felt to every street Ducati I've ever ridden: the same character and presence, but everything was improved. Better suspension, better brakes, better turn in, better throttle response, better sounds - if you like Ducatis, this is God's own motorcycle. At the Algarve circuit, turn 14 begins a downhill, right hand run which leads thru turn 15 onto the front straight. As you apex turn 15, you are leaned over, hard on the gas as you sweep out onto the long front straight, inertia carrying you towards the left side. On the Ducati, I was able to get on the gas far earlier and harder than on any of the other bikes, whippit-giggling as the induction roar and the exhaust dueled in a "who's loudest" contest - absolutely magic stuff.

I had another magic moment while riding Bayliss's bike, going into 14. As I braked and got ready to turn in, I noticed a cornerworker waving a blue flag at me, meaning a faster rider was about to overtake. Almost immediately, Michael Schumacher passed underneath me on the Yamaha, about 2 feet away, still on the gas, going really fast. I tipped in the 1098, watched Schumi lean over, carrying incredible corner speed, knee down and sparks flying from his sliders, just like Bayliss. To be passed this close by the 7 time F1 champ, while riding the Ducati Troy Bayliss rode his last race on, was a memory I will carry with me forever. After that, the laps counted down way too quickly, and I headed into the pits. I giddily thanked the Ducati crew, babbling about how amazing the bike was. I can honestly say that it broke my heart to give it back to them. I was later given a telemetry sheet comparing my best lap to one of Bayliss's, and let's just say that Troy opens the gas a little harder, earlier and longer than me. The only depressing part is that now any other 1098's I ride will seem a bit......tame!

Troy Corser's Yamaha Motor Italia YZF-R1

Moments before Schumi grabbed my ride --Curse you, Red Baron! image: thanks FG Sport

I'd now done about 10 laps of the circuit, and after riding the 1098F08, my confidence had risen tremendously. Uniquely, Yamaha asked us that morning which gearbox configuration we preferred, and I had specified the familiar street shift pattern for my session aboard Corser's R1. Two of the #11 bikes were in the garage, one minus wheels, sitting on stands while it was refueled. On the other side of the pit, the Yamaha Italia mechanics were debriefing Schumacher, who had just come in on one of Haga's bikes. Just as Corser's mechanics started to roll out the fully prepped bike for me, the Yamaha crew chief brought the Red Baron over, and indicated that he'd be switching from Haga to Corser's bike. The multi F1 champ had just nicked my bike! Corser's mechanics were apologetic, and rushed to prepare the bike sitting on the stands. Within seconds, the bike was fueled, new slicks slotted in, ignition fired, and the R1 was rolling backwards onto pit lane.

Saddling into the cockpit as the bike sat idling, I was struck by the beautiful preparation of the Yamaha Italia R1.... a "works bike" is always laden with special parts, one-off bits of billet, magnesium and carbon fiber, but the finish is often a bit rough. Not so on Corser's bike, the carbon fiber looked F1 quality, every bit of metal was polished, the wiring was super-sano, it was truly breathtaking. I noticed that the LCD panel had the word "TWAT" at the bottom of the rev display....was this a special message to the journos? Or perhaps the word would disappear when the throttle was WFO? I asked the mechanic about it - he just shrugged and smiled. The bike felt so special - I clicked it into gear and headed down pit lane, blipping the throttle to get a feel for it. But something was wrong, I was twisting and the revs weren't changing. I wondered if my glove was slipping on the grip, and I grabbed harder and got way into the travel. Finally the bike picked up revs, and I entered the track. I spent the next three laps struggling to get a consistent sense of where I was on the throttle travel, which was hugely nerve-racking on a circuit with many first and second gear corners. Try to imagine being leaned way over in a corner, cracking open the gas in 1st gear, and waiting, waiting, waiting for the revs to pick up on Yamaha's bazillion dollar carbon fiber works masterpiece. The next 4 laps weren't fun, it was like opening stuck spaghetti sauce jar lids for my mom over and over. My hand and wrist was in serious pain, and I couldn't wait to pit in. Also, Corser's brakes seemed extra grabby, not so good for trail braking. Before my session ended, I came really close to crashing Corser's bike. A Spanish journo had dumped Carlos Checa's CBR in turn 3, spilling oil on the track. Oil-absorbing dust had been laid down, and I swung wide of the white powder, but they must have missed a spot. As I turned in, both ends of the bike slid; luckily, I was going slow enough to catch it. It probably looked very minor to anyone watching, but for me, it was a real "browned my leathers" moment. Needless to say, between the throttle and the near crash, I was extra-embarrassingly slow the whole session.

Recently Soup Has Tested: '08 Ducati 1098R '08 Honda CBR1000RR '07 Ducati 1098 '08 Ducati HyperMotard '08 Yamaha YZFR6 '08 Suzuki Hayabusa '07 Honda CBR600RR '07 Kawasaki ZX14

When I rolled back into the garage, I asked about the throttle and was told that Corser runs the "heaviest springs available", although they could not tell me why. Off to BMW for 2009, Troy wasn't around to explain either. The R1 handled superbly, the riding position was the most comfy of the Japanese bikes, yet I just could not ride the bike with that quirky throttle. I saw Ben Spies in the back of the garage, and he asked me what I thought of the R1. I started mumbling about the stiff throttle, but as I spoke to the guy who'll be riding this thing (OK, the new version) in WSBK next year, I kinda just fessed up and said, "gee Ben, I just rode it like a fat, slow pussy." This coaxed a hearty chuckle out of Spies. Haga runs normal springs on his throttle, and his chassis setup is said to be more aggressive than Corser's R1. I would have loved to ride Nori's bike to compare the two, but it wasn't in the cards.

Regis Laconi's PSG-1 Kawasaki ZX-10R

All thru the 2008 WSBK season, I thought Regis Laconi's morose, introspective demeanor was a case of Gallic summer seasonal affective disorder. After riding his PSG-1 ZX-10R, I've realized it's actually due to the fact that he's been using his testicles to decelerate from 200 miles an hour. Laconi's ZX-10R has what is unquestionably the oddest riding position of any bike I've ever been on; he's added a large plastic lump to the back of the gas tank, which pushes right into your groin, and locks you well back from the bars. With decades of donuts stored around my middle, it felt hugely uncomfortable just throwing a leg over the bike. The weird riding position prohibited me from looking over my shoulder when I left pit lane, my helmet just banged into my collarbone. Out on the track, it felt like the ZX-10R had drag bars, I could not get any weight over the front end, I just sagged the back end of the bike down. Forget about hanging off, I had to suck in my gut, and worm around the tank lump just to shift my weight on the bike. Laconi's ZX-10R felt tall and long, but ironically, it didn't feel stable. The finish of the bike, from the triple clamps to the fairing mountings etc, was decidedly "works rough".

Large displacement Kawasaki motorcycles are renowned for their beastly power, with stout motors that require attention from even the most experienced of riders. Imagine then, the race iteration of the 2008 ZX-10R, a bike with a bunch more power, lightened internals, sky high compression and less weight. At the bottom of the powerband, acceleration is fairly vicious, and then it climbs as though a giant, lagless turbocharger is bolted onto the bike. For years, I imagined all the factory Superbikes would have frightening power delivery, rev super fast, with more motor than any mortal could use. The Kawi was the only bike out of the four machines that matched the image fixed in my mind. The ass dragging, fingertip grip riding position was no help coming onto the front straight; trying to go WFO on this bike got the front wheel instantly light, even in higher gears. It felt as though I was going to flip the bike over when I got on the gas hard, and in the corners, I couldn't get any feel from the front end. So it was another session when I pulled in, tail between my legs, hoping no one noticed how damned slow I was. I found myself wondering how anyone could compete on a bike set up in this way, so I asked his engineers, who told me that Regis' greatest strength is in braking, and he needs the padding to minimize weight transfer as he out-brakes his opponents deep into the corners. I pinched myself to avoid saying "yeah, but what about the other 90% of the time he's trying to ride it?" I'm not sure whether Laconi is the biggest hero on the WSBK grid, or if wacky setup preferences are what is really holding him back.

Andrew Pitt's Championship Winning Ten Kate Honda CBR600RR

Finding my way: first laps on the Ten Kate CBR1000RR, absolutely killing the transmission. image: thanks FG Sport

I was really psyched to ride the Ten Kate CBR600RR, as this team has won 7 successive World Supersport championships, and this was 2008 series victor Andrew Pitt's bike. It was physically smaller than Checa's CBR1000RR, but fit me better as the seating position didn't lock me in place like the bigger bike. The crew explained that a series of orange LEDs would light up to indicate when I was in the ideal rev range, then a large red shift indicator would come on when I needed to click up a gear. As soon as I got out on the track, I fell in love with the Ten Kate Supersport machine, it was so easy to throw around, with very precise handling and a buttery gearbox. The bike was running treaded tires, and obviously made much less HP than the superbikes, so my confidence grew as I lapped. So much so that once again, I spaced out and forgot about the race shift pattern. This wouldn't have been a big deal except that I made the error accelerating hard down the front straight, with team owner Gerrit Ten Kate owner watching from the pit wall. I wound the bike up in 4th gear, and upshifted into 5th - or rather, I backshifted into 3rd, the little bike screaming like an F1 car - not good. Luckily, the bike had a slipper clutch, and I don't ride inline fours enough - I "upshifted" early, and there was enough of the rev ceiling left available not to lunch the motor. Despite the newb abuse, the little CBR didn't skip a beat, and I really enjoyed my final laps of the day. You had to scream the piss out of the bike to get the "powerband" lights to illuminate, which took some getting used to, but was real fun. When I pulled into the garage, Mr. Ten Kate was waiting, and I apologized profusely about the missed shift. After shooting me a confused, "Dude, why do you have Cheez Doodles in your nostrils?" kind of look, he just smiled and said "Glad you enjoyed the bike."

I took a long last look at the Ten Kate machines, as the mechanics went over them with meticulous attention. They slipped tire warmers back over the wheels, put their wrenches back in the tool chests sitting on the spotless garage floors. That was it, the day was done, my ride allocation was over. There were many emotions - relief that I hadn't hurt myself or any of the bike the teams so graciously provided, regret that it I didn't ride better or faster, and a deep seated desire to get more laps in. Amazement that I had been rewarded the privilege to sample these machines, and to ride on the same track as Michael Schumacher. I packed up my stuff, said my goodbyes, and headed out of the circuit towards Cordoba, Spain (I wanted to see the rich, Corinthian Leather). That night, unable to sleep due to the adrenaline still subsiding in my veins, I replayed the laps in my head, flipped thru the memories of the day. It was hard to shed the momentum, my brain stuck in a faster setting, rocking me back and forth.

If pressed, I'd say my favorite bike was Bayliss's Xerox Ducati 1098 F08. The Hannspree Ten Kate 600 Supersport bike ran a close 2nd, which really surprised me, but it was just so much fun to ride. Then it would be the Ten Kate CBR1000RR, I'll always remember the first superbike I rode, a machine which, fitted with lights, could easily be ridden on the street. The Yamaha Italia YZF-R1 would be next, a breathtaking bike but one I feel I've got unfinished business with - I know that Corser's personal mods hobbled the bike for me. I hope to ride the 2009 R1 soon, as the new version has a sound which reminds me of a gear driven V4. Lastly, I'm sorry to say, is the PSG-1 Kawasaki ZX-10R, a wickedly fast bike that seemed desperate to both head-butt and sterilize me. The ZX-10R has won lots of magazine comparos around the world, so my dislike for the machine must be down to Regis Laconi's idiosyncratic ergonomic requirements.

In regards to the electronics on the bikes, like anti-spin, wheelie and traction control, all that stuff was pretty unobtrusive. I felt the 1098 stutter a bit in the lower gears, hard on the gas, but it was for the briefest of moments. I think you'd need to be riding these bikes pretty hard to have the electronic aids kick in noticeably, so perhaps I wasn't riding hard enough. But I think rider aids have come a long way in the past few seasons, due to their prevalence in racing, and are far better integrated these days. So: given the chance, The Everyman CAN ride a World Superbike. I certainly wasn't setting any fastest lap records (maybe slowest lap...), but I was able to appreciate the indelible personalities of each of these bikes—any decent rider could, really. The soft, marshmallow center is larger than I thought!

Read the fine print: crash a bike, and you leave the circuit minus one kidney. image by dean adams

Many thanks to the following folks for their help with this story: FGSport, the Ten Kate, Yamaha Italia, Ducati Corse, and PSG-1 Kawasaki teams, Chris Kiritsis & Joe Rocket, Keith Code, California Superbike School, Ben Bostrom, Josh Hayes, Steve Parrish, Charlie Cox, Gavin Matheson, Ben Spies, Ernesto Marinelli, Tim "Uccio" Orr, and of course, Dean Adams.