Mz Skorpion Replica

MZ SKORPION REPLICA

CYCLE WORLD TEST

MANO A MONO WITH AMERICA'S SPORTIEST SINGLE

You HAVEN’T EXPERIENCED EVERYTHING IN MOTORcycling until you’ve uncrated a brand-spanking-new bike. Lifting the cardboard container reveals the wheels first, like the curtain going up on a play. In the case of the MZ Skorpion Replica, which was drop-shipped straight to CW's offices from Germany, the cast of characters is quite impressive: Metzeler tires, Marchesini wheels, a mix of Brembo, Braking, Grimeca and Nissin brake components, WP suspension, Yamaha engine, Sebring exhausts.

MZs are truly world bikes. Assembled in what used to be East Germany by a revitalized company once known for its primitive, square-barreled two-strokes, the Replica boasts top-flight components from Austria, Germany, Holland, Italy and Japan. Considering that it’s powered by a 47-horsepower, 660cc Single, it’s totally overbuilt: Race-worthy 3.5 x 17-inch front and 5.0 x 17inch rear wheels carry Z-rated radiais capable of sustained speeds of 150 mph; dual four-piston front brake calipers suitable for use on a 200-mph 500cc GP bike grasp 11-inch floating steel rotors; an inverted 40mm fork, only slightly smaller than those used on 355pound Superbikes, is held in place by stout billet triple-clamps; even the speedometer reads to 140 mph, 26 over the bike’s measured top speed. None of this is without reason. Given the worldwide popularity of Singles racing, the Skorpion Replica is clearly aimed at racers and wannabe racers. If the level of its components aren’t clear enough indication, its name provides further evidence: It is a “replica” of the prototype that British company Tigcraft campaigned in Sound of Singles races.

But while the Replica was patterned after the racer, it is not a carbon copy. Most significant difference is the frame construction: Where the racer’s two large-tube steel frame spars were glue-bonded to the swingarm pivot castings, the streetbike’s are welded in traditional fashion; a pair of screwed-on covers just make it look like it’s assembled the same way.

Save for its uprated running gear, full fairing and solo seat, the Replica is very much like its two production siblings, the Sport (see accompanying story) and the Tour (CW, September, 1995). It uses the same basic frame and Yamaha engine, equipped with the same camshaft, valves, piston, rod, crank, transmission, primary and final drive ratios.

Even the carburetion is identical. The trio is fitted with the same Teikei “carburetor-and-a-half,” consisting of a 29mm carb joined to a floatless 39mm CV mixer, each feeding its own intake port. Jetting is identical on all three models.

The Replica’s greater performance comes solely through its stainless-steel dual (one for each port) exhaust system, with upswept mufflers exiting Ducati 916-style, under the seat. This gives the Replica a 3-horsepower advantage over the more pedestrian Skorpions, and propels it through the quarter-mile three-tenths of a second quicker. Top-gear rollons reveal that while the Replica and Sport take almost exactly the same amount of time to accelerate from 40 to 60 mph, the Replica is almost a full second quicker from 60 to 80. Helped by its full fairing, the Replica is capable of a 114-mph top speed, 9 mph faster than the unfaired, singlepipe Tour. Those desiring greater performance can opt for parts from the factory race kit, which includes a different camshaft, ignition, muffler and oil cooler, plus assorted sprockets, a steering damper and headand taillight covers.

Derived from the foreign-market Yamaha XTZ660 dualpurpose bike, the Skorpion’s liquid-cooled, sohc Single sports five shim-adjusted valves, a gear-driven counterbalancer and electric starter. The dry-sump lubrication system sees an oil tank positioned under the solo seat cowl; removing the cowl reveals the filler cap and a small underseat storage compartment.

Penned by British design firm Seymour Powell, the Replica’s silver-painted bodywork is graceful and tasteful, a fitting homage to the works MZ racers of yore. Fit and finish are light-years beyond the old production MZs. Our only criticism of the Replica’s appearance concerns the large gaps between its body pieces, which not only are unattractive, but which allow the safety-leash securing the seat cowl to occasionally slip out, like an untied shoelace.

Comfort-wise, the Replica ain’t half bad. The tiny seat pad is thin, but not as uncomfortable as you’d suspect. The clip-ons are mounted above the top triple-clamp, and the footpegs aren’t too high-narrow bikes let you get away with this without compromising cornering clearance. If the round, aluminum pegs feel a bit too rearset in stock trim, not to worry, they’re adjustable. Alternate mounting points permit them to be moved 1.5 inches front-to-back and 1 inch top-to-bottom. Relocating the pegs requires use of a longer shift-linkage rod, master cylinder pushrod and threaded brake-pedal height-adjuster (all included with purchase), making it a simple, if time-consuming, procedure.

Another of the Replica’s many upgraded parts is its Nissin front brake master cylinder (same as used on Suzuki GSXRs), which unlike the lesser Skorpions features a reachadjustable lever. We also like the switchgear, which looks a lot like that fitted to various Hondas and includes a Eurospec high-beam passing button. The instrumentation is also high-quality, with an attractive white-faced tachometer and clock. The fairing-mounted mirrors, however, are a joke: Though surprisingly steady for a Single, they’re best used for seeing if the vents on your jacket are open or closed.

The Replica’s engine starts simply, with a pull on the handlebar-mounted choke lever and a push on the starter button. It warms fairly quickly, and can be ridden away almost immediately. Jetting is spot-on. The extra-long shift-linkage rod and rubber-mounted footpeg bracket make changing gear a somewhat buttery proposition, but the Replica’s five-speed transmission engages smoothly.

Power is typical of a Single. It begins right off of idle and builds linearly before signing off at a relatively low (6750 rpm) redline. This is no Ducati Supermono, folks. But then again, the Replica’s piston measures nearly 4 inches across, and it makes do with a single gear-driven counterbalancer, rather than the Supermono’s elaborate double-connectingrod system. All things considered, vibration isn’t bad. Sure, it shakes some, but nothing fell off-well, almost nothing, we did lose the nut off the right front turnsignal, leaving it hanging by the wire.

Though its exhaust note sounds like that of a dual-purpose bike, the Replica doesn’t feel anything like a knobby-tired dirt/streeter. For one, it’s much lower to the ground. For another, it’s geared far taller. Though it’ll wheelie, it’s not the willing accomplice most dualpurpose bikes are. Other side-effects of the tall gearing are relaxed cruising at highway speeds (good) and an exaggerated jump between gears (not so good). The latter trait is most noticeable in the lower ratios, particularly while downshifting. Care must be taken not to backshift at too high an rpm, which gets the rear wheel hopping. Add to this a grabby rear brake and you’ve got a recipe for an inelegant entry into the local caferacer hangout’s parking lot.

At anything above parking lot speeds, the Skorpion’s handling reveals its racing heritage. The steering geometry-26.5 degrees of rake and 4.2 inches of trail-is somewhat conservative by today’s standards. This should make for heavy steering, but the Replica’s light, 378-pound weight and short, 55.2-inch wheelbase allow it to be snapped from side to side easily-this despite the fact that its rims are a half-inch wider in front and a full inch wider in the rear than the Sport’s and Tour’s.

What the Replica is, is stable. The highly effective suspension soaks up everything in its path, and the chassis refuses to be ruffled. Seriously high cornering speeds are the order of the day. In the unlikely event that you need to slow down for a turn, the front end does not dive excessively under braking, and the fork remains plush all the way through its travel.

Though both the front and rear suspensions are tuneable, neither has the full complement of adjustments. The fork features 20 positions of rebound damping, altered via large knobs atop the legs, and eight clicks of compression damping adjusted via cheesy plastic screwheads at the legs’ bottoms. The shock is a little different, with an 11-position rebound knob at its bottom (only eight of which functioned on our test bike), and a threaded spring-preload collar tackled with two spanners included in the comprehensive toolkit. Each component features a wide range of adjustment, so anyone should be able to find the right setup.

Considering that it’s “only” a Single, the Skorpion Replica is an impressive piece of hardware. Of course, at its $10,500 asking price, it ought to be. There are two ways to look at it: As a relatively expensive kitbike that comes preassembled, or as a pseudo-budget Bimota from behind what used to be the Iron Curtain. If you’re a well-heeled fan of sporting Singles who accepts the fact that the Cold War is over, there may not be a better bike anywhere on the planet.

Just be sure to talk your dealer into letting you help uncrate it.

MZ

SKORPION REPLICA

List price $10,500

EDITORS' NOTES

IN LIFE, AS IN MOTORCYCLING, DIFFERent is good. But limited-production sportbikes should come with either astounding performance or some groundbreaking technology that sets them apart from the masses. Kawasaki’s new ZX-7RR has the first qualification; Bimota’s Tesi has the second. Too bad the MZ Skorpion Replica has neither.

In my eyes, exclusivity for exclusivity’s sake doesn’t cut it. The Replica is a slick, competent package that works quite well, but not so much better than the lower-priced Skorpion Sport that it’s worth the extra $3500. Thumper enthusiasts, being tinkerers by nature, might prefer to use the $6995 Sport as a jumping-off point and spend the money they saved on select pieces from MZ’s factory race kit. That done, the Sport would be faster than the Replica, almost as exclusive, and maybe even better on a twisting backroad. -Eric Putter, Associate Editor

I HAVE TO LOOK THE OTHER WAY TO avoid being seduced by the top-shelf wheels, brakes, suspension and tires adorning the Skorpion Replica. To be honest, I would have given up my firstborn to have the same components bolted on my Formula USA racebike a few years ago.

Aside from its seat pad having the thickness and density of a household sponge, there is plenty to like about the Replica-such as the way it takes on comers with a superb blend of agility and stability. Though I have no scientific evidence, I’d say the Replica truly replicates the cornering speed of the finest roadbikes out there.

But at $10,500, I’d have to be wearing blinders to overlook the plethora of more affordable sportbikes offering broader performance in much more refined packages.

As it stands, the Replica offers an interesting alternative for an individual looking for something really different. Just don’t look for me to be singled out by this MZ.

-Don Canet, Road Test Editor

I’M NO STRANGER TO SINGLES. Discounting my ex-girlfriend’s semi-functional Chevy Vega, a Yamaha SR500 served as my sole means of transportation-and motorized recreation-for two years.

In many ways, this MZ reminds me of that old SR. After all, underneath its radiator, five-valve head and electric starter lurks a derivative of the same engine. The sound is virtually identical, the powerband familiar and the performance, while no doubt improved on the more-modem MZ, is not so far superior that I can sense a seat-of-the-pants difference.

The two bikes’ chassis, however, barely feel like they’re from the same century. I could have spent the Replica’s entire asking price on my SR and still not had a bike that handled as well.

Yes, the Replica is expensive, but it’s money well spent. And when you consider that the only other one-lung exotic scheduled for sale in this country, the Bimota Supermono, will cost at least $13,000, the MZ starts to look like a bargain.

-Brian Catterson, Executive Editor