Schafer-Suzuki GSX 1300 R Hayabusa test


Schafer-Suzuki GSX 1300 R Hayabusa test

Enough is never enough

Where does the fun end, where does the fear begin? Are there limits to experience, an end to all reason? Michael Schafer from Saarlouis is shifting the standards with his Yoshimura-Hayabusa.

Desk, 9.40 am, I am eating my cheese roll when the test chief peeps around the corner: “Jorge, call the shepherd, he’ll make a grenade. A Hayabusa with Yoshimura factory parts. «No sooner said than done, I already dial 06831/48513, the number of tuner Michael Schafer from Saarlouis. The telephone receiver is stuck between my ear and shoulder, and my hand is frantically scribbling the words of my acoustic counterpart.

“Yes, yes, exactly, about 200 hp, a little over 200 kilos, you know, kind of like the killer parts from the eight-hour race in Suzuka. No, no, nothing on the road, pure fun on the racetrack. «When can we get it? “Don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know in good time.” 200 hp and 200 kilos. I can hardly imagine what the man is building, but the vague thought of it raises the hair on the back of my neck.

Days, weeks, months go by. The DM season is booming for Schafer, so the monster bike has to wait. A motorcycle that is supposed to turn up the dynamics screw where, according to the rules of reason, all limits have already been exceeded. Whose role model, under the direction of the legend “Pops” Yoshimura, took sixth place overall in the eight-hour race in Suzuka, which was top-notch in terms of both material and driving.

Today is the day. In the editorial bully we drive towards Hockenheim, where a shepherd envoy is handed over the Hayabusa. We are in good time. MOTORRAD employee Markus Barth has already done a few rounds of Schafer in Valencia, the photo production is already in the can. So we can concentrate on the essentials: driving.
We will meet the shepherd man in front of the gate. Hello, hello, I’m the one, how are you, had a good trip, let’s go. The open transport door reveals one of the most impressive rear sections that motorcycles have stuck out at me so far. The conveyor loosens the belts, unloads and jacks up. “It’s nice and light, look at the rear frame and the fairing bracket. Nice isn’t it? So have fun and let her heal. ”Let’s see. I’m a little nervous about changing my clothes.
“Tac, tac, tac,” staple the footsteps of my hard-shell shoes across the Baden asphalt. Except for the boots and the creaking of the cold, stubborn leather suit, it’s very quiet. There is tension in the air. Tension in front of the thing, the object, the monster. Yoshimura Hayabusa. Uff. Much slimmer than the standard part. Anything but sports tourism. Pure. Strong. Reduced. To be quick. What would you think if you were to test a 200 hp motorcycle, weighing just 210 kilograms, with a full tank, of course? Translated briefly so that it doesn’t get boring? Inconceivably? Imagine if your Golf suddenly had over 1000 hp. And? Exactly, you have respect. A lot of it. Maybe even a little scared. Or?
There’s an anthill in my stomach. Busy little animals. With lots of tingling legs. I am circling the Hayabusa monster by far. Everything is different. Obviously it rolls on light PVM magnesium wheels, apparently beautiful brakes from the same manufacturer slow down the dynamics that have once been unleashed. Not just any stoppers, but filigree cast discs, clasped by milled six-piston monoblock calipers, controlled by a radial hand pump via a Kevlar-coated brake line. »State of the Art ?? is that called.
Two Ohlins fork legs, in an expensive superbike variant, round off the front section. The golden parts are in milled triple clamps, clamped four times in the lower one, carry appropriate handlebar halves with hinge clamps. A radial hand pump is also used somewhat decadently to operate the hydraulic clutch. The clutch thanks you with ridiculously little hand strength. With wise foresight, because the shepherd-Hayabusa trainer needs his strength for other things.
HInten, it goes on like this: A Harris swingarm modeled from aluminum sheets, which usually adorns a GSX-R 750 superbike with its deflection and the specially tuned Ohlins shock absorber, keeps the rear wheel in check. To ensure that the geometry fits, Schafer welded the linkage to the frame. If the Suzuki rests on its assembly stand, turning the rear wheel will convince you of good assembly work. It turns almost unbraked, which is not only due to the slender 520 chain, but also to a meticulously aligned chain alignment. Nice, nice, just like the small brake system on the rear wheel and the filigree MR footpegs, the gear lever of which provides a quick reversal of the shift pattern and stops for an automatic gearshift.

A switch on the left handlebar closes the ignition circuit, plus the kill switch on “On”, tap the starter and “bammm”, the big block unmistakably comes to life. The idling is soon correct, the four-in-line murmurs sonorous and powerful from the tailpipes of the distinctive triangular silencer. Let’s see what’s up ?? oops, that reacts super spontaneously, at the slightest turn of the throttle the revs go up with a bark. Sounds good, such an open four-cylinder, especially such a large-volume one. So enjoy the game a few more throttles, after all, the engine needs operating temperature. The powerhouse isn’t that badly modified. Channel and combustion chamber work, compression high to 12: 1, the whole thing flanked by Yoshimura camshafts, which, like the fourth, fifth and sixth gear, come from a kit specially developed for the Hayabusa. Outside there is an exhaust, ignition box and a couple of short aluminum intake funnels? the 200 horses are ready. A narrow alternator should follow for the future, due to the ground clearance to the left. But enough of the explanations, I’ll take a seat. Actually quite cozy behind the fat tank, which seems to look up at me with its aluminum filler neck. Put in gear, ah yes, first gear up, better for the race track anyway. I gently apply the gas, carefully I let the clutch come.

I roll off respectfully. Ah yes, a typical Hayabusa clutch, poorly metered, hacking frictional connection. Nevertheless, Markus Barth accelerated the creature to 200 in an incredible 6.6 seconds. Comment: “Translated longer and with a proper clutch it is even faster.” Okay, Markus, that’s right. Naturally, it is more sporty than the standard, higher bench, much higher, set back notches, much lower handlebars. For me as a Rhenish Laake it fits like a glove, offers almost exactly the right position to counter the driving dynamics through body tension and weight shift. Result: I quickly become more courageous, I dare to accelerate a little, shift lively through the gears, heidewitzka, something’s going on, the front wheel climbs from third to fourth gear. Terrifyingly manageable for a motorcycle of such dimensions, the creature circles through the radius. Suspension elements and wheel guidance work well, although their capabilities fizzle out a little in the springs that are too soft at the front and rear.

North curve, apex, the tachometer signals 6000 rpm. Concentration, now applies. Gently pull on the handlebars, upper body forward and down, apply a lot of pressure to the notch on the outside of the curve. Pull up the gas carefully. The Hayabusa cannot be asked twice, angrily howling feverishly increases speed, presses the rear tire with brutal force. Hold on, support, somehow. The tachometer needle climbs as if in fast motion. Tendons and muscles of the body harden, mentally the rollover backwards, the rear wheel breaking away, the loss of vehicle control. My God, this is moving forward! An indifferent feeling in the handlebars heralds the take-off of the front wheel, I aim the direction of travel as concentrated as possible, the horizon and landscape blur around it to a blur, something like an earthquake looks like. Oooooouuups! Unusually indifferent metering, this brake, little manual force, but a lot of lever travel. Not bad for braking into the curve, so let’s go, with our heads down we turn into the crossbar. Yyyyyyyja! Accelerate from a right-hand lean into the fast left-hand curve, it fits, the Hayabusa passes the targeted point with reassuring precision. The pulse races a little helplessly, the breath fights flatly against the iron grip of the tense trunk muscles. Brake Motodrom, accelerate, gently increase the pull, pull the arch through the depression, with Worp 12 the Hayabusa jumps towards the Sachskurve. Ow man! And it goes on and on!

Done, survived, my goodness, the sweat is squeezing out of all pores, the pulse is pounding fast, hard beats, my reddened head grins in an adrenaline rush. The fun costs 80,000 marks, I calculate, well, about twelve years of bread and water, then maybe. But what a lot of fun. Amazingly manageable and always excessive. Reasonably viewed a motorcycle that nobody needs. But thank God, it is precisely the irrationality that breeds motorcycling. Or?

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