Valentino Rossi's Ride

With the resurgence of Valentino Rossi in MotoGP this year, we thought it would be fun to look back at a feature story in which our Road Test Editor, Don Canet, rode the Honda RC211V factory racebike that “The Doctor” rode to the 2002 MotoGP championship title.

It was nearly midnight by the time I'd checked into the Suzuka Circuit Hotel and my head hit the pillow. Exhausted from a long day of travel, I needed sleep, but my mind was racing. Back home in the Pacific Time Zone, the workday had just begun as I tossed and turned, the jetlagged hours creeping past. But rested or not, Honda had me slated for the ultimate wakeup call: a 9:45 a.m. ride aboard an NSR500 works roadracer.

I had visited Suzuka once before on a similar assignment, which entailed laps aboard the NSR500 that Mick Doohan had ridden to the 1994 world championship. Who would’ve imagined the almighty two-stroke would play second fiddle to a four-stroke so soon?

Headlining Honda's post-season press day this year was the RC211V that carried Valentino Rossi to his second consecutive MotoGP title. With nearly 50 Japanese journalists in attendance, it was pretty evident I wouldn't log much track time for my travel dollar. A 2003 CBR600RR on display in an adjacent pit garage looked like an ideal mount for getting reacquainted with the tricky 3.6-mile, 16-turn Suzuka circuit. Sadly, my request was denied, so I took to the track for my allotted five laps aboard the NSR500 ridden by Daijiro Kato in the first half of the 2002 series, before the Japanese star transitioned onto an RC211V.

I had anticipated a rude awakening as the 499cc V-Four two-stroke came on the pipe, but was quite surprised by its slightly less-than-vicious transition into the meat of the power. As long as I didn’t do anything silly with my right wrist—like greedily grab a handful exiting the third-gear Dunlop corner or, heaven forbid, sneeze while apexing the low-gear Hairpin—the 500 could be as tame as a hyena after a hearty feeding.

Allowing the engine to bog by running a gear tall out of the hairpin didn’t produce the expected hair-raising, wildly wheelying moment when it came back on-song. Not to say the front didn’t come up as the tach needle picked up momentum in its sweep past 9000 rpm, but it wasn’t a shocking, skyward snap. After a couple of laps spent exploring the engine’s power delivery and getting familiar with the bike’s controls and handling characteristics—not to mention the track layout—I felt ready to start spinning ’er up to the 12,500-rpm shift point exiting corners.

Wow! The fearsome 500 is, in fact, everything your mother warned you about. Kato is a fairly compact fellow who prefers his bikes to have a tight, forward-biased riding position. While helping to keep the front wheel planted driving out of corners this felt very confining to me, and particularly awkward through the slow Hairpin and the very tight, flip-flop Chicane. I was actually relieved to get off Kato’s NSR, and looked forward to experiencing Rossi’s ride later in the morning.

Once the tire-warmers had been removed, exposing fresh Michelin slicks on the number-46 RC211V, the mechanics commenced with the starting procedure. With the bike resting on a rear stand, a starter motor was used to spin the rear wheel up to speed, allowing the V-Five to be bump-started in a tall gear. Pretty ironic, a lawnmower engine and wheelbarrow tire being used to light the world’s most exotic MotoGP engine! While neutral proved difficult to find, I viewed this as a good trait on a circuit that sees first gear in the close-ratio six-speed tranny used no less than three times each lap. Engine idle sounded high; I’d guess about 2000 rpm, as the 17,000-rpm tach doesn’t register below 5000.

Pulling away from the mixed crowd of HRC personnel, journalists and photographers presented the first of many opportunities to look like a fool. But the RC211V left smoothly with a hint of revs and a bit of clutch slip. I grabbed two quick short-shifts and proceeded with a third-gear roll-on from basement revs down pit lane. The engine responded smoothly, with a seamless and very linear increase in power as the revs built all the way to the 15,000-rpm limit.

Bearing in mind the bike’s mega-dollar value and unscuffed tires, I bent into Turn One with extra care. It felt securely planted and very neutral steering, all the encouragement needed to lean deeper as I rounded the long, sweeping right. It took but a few more transitions through the Esses before I was certain this was going to be a bike in which I could quickly gain confidence.

Well, you ask, what’s not to trust in a world championship-winning mount? A session later that afternoon aboard Colin Edwards’ World Superbike title-winning VTR1000SP2 (known as the RC51 stateside) answered that question with a pronounced and persistent wobble that had me holding my breath each time I accelerated through the gears exiting Spoon Curve or onto the pit straight. Time aboard the VTR offered clear perspective on how incredibly well sorted the RC211V chassis is. Light and agile while being extremely stable best sums up Rossi’s bike. Realizing I weigh a few pounds more than the lanky Italian, the bike’s suspension action was remarkably compliant compared to the rigid setups of other racebikes I've sampled.

Heck, add lights, mirrors and a starter motor to the RC211V’s refined chassis package and it would be friendly enough for the road. The V-Five motor is also friendly—to a point. While the 990cc four-stroke feels much more civilized and easier to use than the 500cc two-stroke, it’s also potentially more lethal. Imagine a CBR954RR on the boil and you get a sense of what the RC211V pulls like—through the midrange. The front wheel lifts in place where the 500’s felt almost planted, and the onrush of blurring acceleration continues into top gear.

Is the world ready for such a backroad weapon? Here's hoping Honda thinks so.