Guest Test

Guest Test

Kevin Schwantz shirks retirement for a ride on Mick Doohan's championship-winning Honda NSR500

WHEN I RETIRED from racing almost two years ago, I was quoted as saying, "I don't regret that I never rode a Honda." Well, that's not entirely true. I enjoyed a great career with Suzuki. I won the Daytona 200, 25 GPs and the 500cc world championship. And in an unprecedented move, the FIM even retired my number, 34. If I had to do it all over again, I would do it exactly the same way. But I do regret that I never rode a Honda.

Honda always had the most powerful engine, hands down. The four-cylinder NSR500 was always the fastest bike on the grid, and maybe the best overall package. In 1989, my second full season racing GPs, the NSR handled horribly. But Honda made some big improvements,

and Eddie Lawson won the championship that year. Without injuries to Wayne Gardner and later to Mick Doohan, Honda might have been unbeatable. Certainly since 1992, the NSR has been the best bike, but it took Doohan two years to get over his terrible leg injuries, get his confidence back and start riding well enough to win championships.

The week prior to the Cycle World test session at Australia's Eastern Creek racetrack was one of anticipa tion for me. I hadn't ridden a 500cc GP bike in 18 months, so I really wasn't concerned with lap times. I just wanted to ride the bike.

First up, though, was Tadayuki Okada's twin-cylinder NSR500V. Basically, it's a big-bore 250, only a little heav ier. It's really impressive, lots of wheelies. The engine has a lot of grunt-more than a Four-and pulls strong from about 8000 rpm. But I never felt comfortable on it. The seat pad was really slippery, and there was a pretty noticeable frontend chatter just as I went to lay the bike on its side. The bike felt really twitchy changing directions, as if the slightest mistake would get you thrown down the road. When you haven't ridden in 18 months, little things like that leave bad thoughts in the back of your mind.

I reckon the chatter was mostly setup. Okada has always raced 250s and he carries a lot of corner speed, so maybe he pushes the front more. I've only ridden two 250s in my entire life-maybe 40 laps total-but both those bikes felt really stable. I'm used to the power delivery and weight of a Four, something that feels more substan tial. I prefer to get the thing stopped, get it pointed and fire it out of the corner. Doohan has test ed the Twin, and he said it was fun to ride but that he didn't want to race it. I feel the same way.

That said, I think the Twin would be a great stepping stone. A good 250 rider-Max Biaggi, for instance-would really benefit from

it. These days, most of the tracks are shorter and there are more chicanes, so a lightweight, nimble bike should be able to run up front. Plus, the Twin should be friendlier on rear tires. In the right hands, not that Shinichi Itoh and Okada aren't good riders, I think the Twin can win races. I think if Doohan or his Repsol teammate Alex Criville rode the Twin, you'd see some amazing results.

I didn't speak to Itoh or Okada before I rode the Twin. Neither speaks English very well. I did talk to Mick before I rode the Four. He showed me a few things, explained how to adjust the brakes if the carbon discs weren't getting hot enough and the lever was coming into the handlebar. That's about it. Criville told me that he had never ridden the Twin, but that he was sure I would prefer the Four.

Criville was right: Doohan's bike felt great. Mentally, I was more confident on the Four. After riding the Twin, I figured the Four's speed wasn't going to bother me, but there's definitely a speed difference between the two. It would have been fun to have focused a camera on my face because the first few laps were definitely an eye opening experience.

KEVIN SCHWANTZ

I've never felt a bike accelerate so cleanly through the gears. Even with 180-mph gearing, the Four just pulls and pulls and pulls. Nothing I've ever ridden pulls that hard. I

mentioned that to Mick afterward and he said, "Yeah, that's all part of the computer that manages the engine." Amazing.

The transmission is spectacular. One tap on the lever, and it's done. It just seems to fall through the gears. I had a bit of trouble with Doohan's race-style shift pattern, though.4

I've always preferred a production streetbike pattern-one down, five up-and shifting the NSR took a lot of concentra tion, which really hurt my timing. Had I done something stupid, like shift down instead of up while I was accelerating out of a corner, the bike might have spit me off. With more laps, though, my timing certainly would have improved.

I was really impressed with the way the Four stopped. At Eastern Creek, I used to brake for Turn 1 just inside the 100meter marker. That's where Doohan and the other front-nm ners were braking during qualifying for this year's GP. We used AP Lockheed brakes on the Suzuki, and I always thought my bike was one of the best on the brakes. With the APs, though, getting the right temperature into the discs was always a concern. The first time I used carbon brakes was in 1988 at the British Grand Prix. I crashed and took out Ron Haslam.

Judging from what people in the paddock are using, the carbon-carbon Brembos must be pretty good. I certainly wasn't setting a blazing pace, but the brakes were dead consistent. The last couple of laps, I was braking a bit deeper, but my hand was beginning to roll over the handlebar, which is one of the reasons I quit racing. It's disappointing. My wrist still isn't strong enough to do it on grip alone. GP orthopedist Dr. Claudio Costa says he can get my wrist back good enough so I can race, but after riding Doohan's bike, I know there are things I just can't do anymore.

Ididn'ttyDoohn'sfi~mousthumlj-brake setup because my thumb is the weak link on my left hand. Besides, I was never in a situation where I would have used the rear brake. When I was racing, I only used the rear brake if I got into trouble, or if I was trying to outbrake someone. The thumb brake makes a lot of sense, though. In racing conditions, you steer the bike quite a bit with your feet. You want to be on the ball of your foot, not on your heel working the rear brake pedal. Even though I was about seven seconds off Criville's pole-winning pace, I did notice a: bit of headshake exiting Turn 1. Basically, the bike didn't want to finish the corner. Doohan told me he had softened the rear suspension a bit to compensate for a lack of front-tire grip. Maybe that's what I was feeling. Had I run the bike in harder and loaded the front end more, maybe it would have finished the turn better. Even so, Mick's riding style is a lot different than mine. He turns his body a bit sideways and keeps his weight farther forward.

SCHWANTZ ON...

• . .LUCA CADALORA "At any time, Luca can be the fastest guy out there. When the bike's right, he's next to impossible to beat. Sometimes, he gets blackballed for not giving 100 percent, but you can't make that call from the pits. He deserves credit for knowing when he doesn't have a good bike, for knowing when to back off the pace."

• WAYNE RAINEY "If it were at all possible, Wayne would be the first guy to jump on the Yamaha and prove that it's still a respectable motorcycle. He still has the fight in him."

• MICK 000HAN "Mick is so determined, more even than Rainey. His attitude is, `I'm going to do every thing I can to kick your ass.' Mick's had a lot of injuries. Most people would have given up, thrown in the towel. He never quit. In fact, he came back stronger and even more determined."

• KENNY ROBERTS "Kenny pushed Wayne a lot, just like he pushes Kenny Jr. But I don't know _________________ that I could have ridden for Kenny. He's too hands-on. At the same time, he has a lot of good ideas. As far as his new Triple goes, Kenny's no dummy. He wouldn't do something if he didn't believe he could pull it off. Who knows, the thing might be a real dynamo."

SCOTT RUSSELL "Scott had some great results this year, but he really needed injured Suzuki teammate Daryl Beattie to help with bike development. Scott's a good rider. He has a lot of tal ent. He could win on the Honda."

I remember how tough it was to go fast on the Suzuki through Turns 4 and 5 at Eastern Creek. At that point on the circuit you're changing direction, going over a hill and the track is dropping away. If the suspension unloaded or the rear wheel spun a little, you could be in a lot of trouble. The Honda was really something, though; I couldn't believe how easily it changed direction.

Both of the bikes were pretty comfortable, especially Mick's bike. The footpegs weren't too high, and the han dlebar location was similar to the Suzuki's. I didn't like the footpegs themselves; they were too short and not very coarse on top, making it easy for your foot to slip off the peg. More than anything, the Honda is really well-fin ished. There's nothing half-assed about it. The team did a great job in every area. If you walk into the Honda garage, the attitude is, "Nobody can beat us." That's real ly important.

It's ayear-round commitment. GP racing is such a big dollar, high-profile program that the factories have to test a lot more just to stay ahead of each other. The day I was rid ing the Hondas, the team opened a new crate. By that after noon, they were testing stuff for next year, one day after the last race of the season.

Testing always kept me fit. I could take 30 or 45 days off, jump back on the bike and run competitive lap times. It's just confidence, the perception of speed and timing. But physically, I just can't do it anymore. I watch the guys fight the bikes, see them hit the ground, get up and fall back down. I've done that so many times. My body's beat up enough. Injuries often force you to change your style-look at Doohan's thumb-actuated brake. Or in my case, quit. In that respect, motorcycle racing is a cruel sport.

When I flrst started racing, even up until a few years ago, all I wanted to do was win. I wanted to win every weekend, and I didn't give a shit about anything else. I wanted to win by a distance big enough that I could do my cool-off lap and the rest of the guys would still have their heads down.

Who knows, had I done some 1:33 or maybe 1:32 lap times at Eastern Creek instead of 1:37s, I might have been scratching my head thinking, "I'm going racing again." Truthfully, though, I just don't have the desire anymore. Not at this level, at least. As a kid, you grow out of things. I

guess I've grown out of 500cc GP racing. I don't want to be a team owner or manager, either. I would hate the pressure. There are too many variables.

Car racing is a new challenge. NASCAR will never replace the excitement of a 500 GP bike, but it is exciting. My goal is to crack into Busch Grand National or Super Truck competition. Hopefully, I can take it to the level that I did racing motorcycles. I'd like to be the first guy to win the Daytona 200 and the Daytona 500. I think that would leave a mark that would be tough to beat.

As for Eastern Creek, Honda may not have shown me every trick in their book-the bike may not have been tuned to 100-percent power-but I bet that I got 85-90 percent. If that's the case, I feel that much sorrier for everyone else. We're lucky Honda didn't start winning championships a long time ago. Maybe that means they're human, too.