YZF-R1 (RN22)

What struck me first was how transparent the R1 is on a circuit I'd never seen. In the very first session it was already looking after itself, long before I'd worked out where the track went. Feedback from the front at turn-in is clear, and the electronic steering damper earns its place. Bumps at several exits lifted the front and made the bike nervous, and the damper calmed it every single time. Snap down two or three gears for a slow corner and the slipper clutch keeps the rear settled. Now the other side. On track the R1 takes real muscle to drive into a corner and to switch from one radius to the next, and next to the sharper machines it steers slowly. The suspension drew more complaints than anything else on this bike. The fork still dives hard under braking, no better than the previous model even though compression and rebound now sit in separate legs. That feels like a cost decision to me, not a performance one. At the rear, getting on the gas early doesn't load the tire with enough authority, so exit traction is less predictable than it should be at this level. My test track flattered it, too. Fit proper slicks with a matching setup, though, and the same chassis turns surgical. The character stays. The precision multiplies!

The thing I value most in this motor is how the throttle behaves. Before, you had to choose between aggressive response and easy modulation. Here you get both: crack it open and it answers immediately, yet I can still meter it out precisely without the rear catching me out. Power builds in one smooth, unbroken arc instead of spiking at the top, and with no cable between my hand and the engine, nothing feels filtered or processed. Out of a hairpin it simply hooks up, so I'm riding, not managing. The traction control matches that character. In its highest intervention mode it pulls power back noticeably at the exit, but I never felt a snatch, a lurch or a stumble. It just happens underneath you. The price is paid at the top end. On a racetrack a short straight settles the argument, and the time you leave at every exit adds up fast on the stopwatch. One quirk to know: neither the sound nor the way the power builds warns you that the limiter is close. Watch the tach.

The brakes never cost me ground. Push the entry point deeper and the front answers progressively, with no grab and nothing snappy in the initial bite, and it keeps delivering as you go deeper into the corner. My complaint is that bite. Six-piston calipers with individual pads should feel like hitting a wall, and these don't. More aggressive pads came up on the day as a fix, but you shouldn't need them from stock.

The moment that sums this bike up came on a fast, bumpy left-hander: the street-tire rear writing black lines into the asphalt, the engine telling me exactly where the grip ran out. A colleague was laying down huge slides at the exits with the throttle pinned, and watching him convinced me to open up harder. Within a few laps the electronics had earned my trust. The TC range covers road, track and racing, and on circuit it makes you faster instead of just keeping you upright. The old R1 punished every mistake. After one track day on this one, I'd happily point a road rider at it. Against the class on a closed circuit, though, that tamer, street-biased setup is its defining limit. The electronics have a catch too: they swallow a lazy line or soft pegs without complaint, so you never learn why the clean rider beside you pulls away. It won't teach you.

Day to day, the ergonomics stay out of your way: no awkward tuck, no stretching for the controls. The vibration story is mixed. Yamaha fitted a balance shaft to tame the crossplane, and it's still busier than a conventional inline-four, though nowhere near twin-level. On track the picture changes. Laps get physically demanding, and through hard braking and long sweepers I found no comfortable way to lock my upper body in. Rotating the clip-ons forward would likely sort that, but that's not how it comes. The former racers in our test flagged the relaxed geometry straight away, and the smaller, track-focused riders drifted toward bikes with sharper ergonomics. Measured against a full race replica, this is a real compromise. On the road, it's an asset.

Don't look to the R1 for everyday convenience. Every practical point I can give it comes from the electronics, not from anything that makes daily life easier. Switching traction-control modes takes one press at the left grip, at speed, with no stopping and no menus. The only catch: switching it off completely needs a standstill. The other surprise came at the end of a long track day. After back-to-back sessions under maximum load, the tires wore textbook even, and I give the smooth TC intervention the credit for that. Beyond those two points, the list of everyday strengths ends there. It's short. Very short.