Hayaboosta!
HAYABOOSTA!
Nxt Level Racing's turbo super-sleeper
THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME THE BOSS has tried to kill me with a Hayabusa. First, it was our 1999 copper-colored long-termer, then it was Rad Greaves’ 185-horsepower Formula Xtreme roadracer. Now this.
This" is Nxt Level Racing's Street sleeper, a piece of wicked, turbocharged 350-horsepower moto-missile construct-ed to make suckers out of dudes who think they've got a quick bike, and also to scare the crap out of motorcycle mag-azine editors.
It does both, with plenty of power to spare. But the cool thing is that the NLR Hayabusa is virtually stock on the out side, save for the inner-fairing-mounted boost gauge (which you can choose not to mount) and hacked-out section of right-side lower fairing that allows the turbo's stainless-steel exhaust system to fit. It's even docile enough for riding around town, with only some off/on throttle hesitation to hint at the bike's altered state. Sharp-eyed Hayabusasti may have noticed the bike is lowered, but nothing else except a severely burned-up rear tire hints at the serious business going on within the con fines of the bulbous bodywork. And trust me, there is serious business at work.
In fact, the Andersson system fitted to this bike is the most serious of NLR's streetable offerings (for info, visit www.nlrsystems.com). For $7000-plus about $1000 for installationyou get all the bits nec essary (except for a Power Commander II F! tuning module) to boost your Busa to insane levels of power. NLR proprietor Sebastian Domingo's turbo philosophy is simple: build a reliable, ridable system that is totally thrilling to ride.
Domingo says the key to a reliable turbo bike is an intercooler, something all the systems NLR offers use. In the case of this bike, it’s a water-cooled intercooler, with its own full-time electric pump and plumbing. The heatexchanger is integrated into the lovely polished intake plenum that replaces the stock airbox. It is this space-efficient setup that helps keep the bike so stealthy. The rest of the system is equally well-crafted and beautiful. The turbo itself is polished, as are the stainlesssteel header pipes and post-turbo plumbing. The silencer, too, is polished, but made of aluminum. About the only external piece that could be better integrated is the small black radiator (for the intercooler water) mounted behind the license plate.
Perhaps the coolest feature of all, though, is the Magic Button. In this case, it’s the horn button (the horns themselves are disconnected), which controls maximum boost pressure. The normal setting is 12-14 psi, which is what you get when you give the throttle a whack and don’t honk the boost blast. Hold the button down, however, and air pressure is applied to a diaphragm in the wastegate housing, effectively increasing the preload on the pop-off valve and boosting boost to 18 psi. The difference is more astonishing than the extra 35 horses this produces compared to the regular 340 bhp suggests. But it’s all academic anyway, because I never got close to full throttle. I don’t know how dragbike pilot Larry Laye ever squeezed a 9.41-second quarter-mile at 163 mph out of this stock-wheelbase bike.
My first ride was around the block for a familiarization run. “Be careful, it’ll bite you,” warned Domingo. On the one hand, you have to respect the bike’s numbers, but I figured that once you’d had a stock Hayabusa on the rev-limiter in fifth gear riding in traffic on a Spanish freeway (at the original press intro) or watched in terror as Turn 8, Willow Springs, came up way too fast on a Busa racebike, a man is ready for anything.
This man wasn’t ready! Nothing prepares you for what this motorcycle does. The first blast from 80 to 120 mph was a furious, whistling, blurred nano-second. My life would have flashed before my eyes, but there wasn’t time. And I hadn’t even honked the horn yet! The bike would alternately whcclie or spin the tire at 80 mph and more, no problem. Finally, after riding for a few miles and getting “used to” the bike, I screwed up my courage and hit the loud button for the full 18-psi of fury. Aahhhhhh! was all I could say when the bike whcclied at 130 mph! Almost as soon as the turbo spooled up, the wheel shot skyward and my wrist went limp. The wastegate fluttered and popped as it bled the extra intake pressure that came from the slammed-shut throttles, and the front wheel came down. I clicked the bike into sixth and sedately motored back to the office on no more than '/32nd throttle.
It was terrifying, thrilling and virtually impossible to mentally process the experience. Of course, all I can think about is trying it again.
Mark Hoyer
