Posted February 24, 2006   Email   Print

Yamaha R6: Supersport screamer

By Grant Parsons
Photos by Kevin Wing

This has got to be the golden age of sportbikes.

Sure, there were times when we thought we were living in great times—the streetbikes built to compete in the early years of the AMA Supersport classes certainly were a giant leap forward.

But you know we've reached a new high-water mark for sportbikes when a company like Yamaha can justify stocking their line-up with not just one or two 600cc sportbikes, but three.

(Even more amazing: The most street-oriented of the three, the one Yamaha calls its "beginner" Supersport machine for '06, the YZF600R, was a front-line championship winner in 1994. But I digress.)

No, it's the 600cc Supersport bike at the other end of the spectrum that recently brought U.S. journalists to California's Willow Springs Raceway: Yamaha's all-new track screamer, the 2006 R6.

This is the one that had Supersport fans salivating from the moment we saw a spec sheet detailing a host of technology:

• The 599cc engine sports a wider bore and shorter stroke than last year, which, coupled with lighter pistons and wristpins, is designed to promote quick revving.

• The throttle-control system uses true fly-by-wire technology, with the throttle cables sending signals to a black box, not to the butterfly valves in the injection system. The box compares what you're asking for to what multiple sensors tell it the engine can handle, and opens the butterflies via a servo motor. (Don’t be put off; the connection feels very direct, but more on that later.)

• A back-torque limiting slipper clutch absorbs driveline shock on downshifts, and slips slightly at the right time to prevent rear-wheel hops into corners.

• An EXUP exhaust valve in the under-engine exhaust collector creates variable back pressure to tune the torque curve, while a titanium short exhaust mimics MotoGP style.

• Small wings on the bike's nose help add downforce to the front wheel at high speeds.

• Dual injectors for each cylinder—the second ones feeding the intake from high in the airbox—complement high-rpm power.

• The redline has been raised, although controversially. Though initial press materials from Yamaha had boasted the bike's redline was 17,500, the actual rev ceiling is 16,000 (up 500 rpm from last year). Curiously, the analog tach on the dial reads 17.5K when the spark is actually cut at 16K, giving the bike the appearance of a much higher redline. Yamaha officials have announced that they will buy back the bike of any existing owner who takes issue with the discrepancy, and all new buyers will sign a statement acknowledging the issue. Officially, it's called a "9 percent tachometer error."

• The chassis is as trick as they come, with not only preload and rebound adjustments, but adjustable high- and low-speed compression damping circuits—giving you four ways to dial in setup.

• License plate brackets and turn signals are designed to be easily removable.

• A lap timer triggered from the handlebar is standard, as is a programmable shift light.

• And no, while it's not strictly a tech feature, the new R6 is available in a yellow-and-black bumblebee paint scheme that had the faithful lining up at their dealers' pre-order desks.

Consider all these features, and the machine screams "track bike" at the top of its lungs.

This is a motorcycle designed for racing and track days first, and the street second. Yamaha officials note that if you want the bias shifted more toward the street, there are two other Yamaha 600s—including the 2005 model, now called the R6S, which was good enough to win AMA Supersport races last year—from which to choose.

Climb aboard, and the track bias is immediately clear—this is one tiny motorcycle. Even sitting on it in the Willow Springs paddock, the ergonomics prove that long-haul touring is not the machine's strong suit. Bars are low, the reach from the seat is short, the rearset footpegs are high and your body feels best tucked down near the bubble.

That's not the best mix for stop-and-go commuting, but in case you haven't been paying attention, that's not what this bike was built for. What seems cramped standing still makes perfect sense once out on the track.

The low bars and short tank bring your weight more toward the front wheel for better handling. The high pegs yield ground clearance. And getting your chest on the tank helps streamlining toward top end.

After a few laps to re-acquaint myself with Willow Springs, I'm starting to feel comfortable. As a track-day rider but not a racer, I place a lot of stock in a bike's ability to put me at ease, and the quick, predictable handling, powerful brakes and rev-happy motor do just that.

It's impressive how quickly the R6 allows me to stop worrying about the bike and start focusing on the track.

Push the pace a bit, and the R6 shows its marked top-end bias. This bike loves to rev. 16K may be 1.5K less than the early tip sheet, but the R6 is still screaming fun when kept on a high, rolling boil.

The motor really starts waking up at perhaps around an actual 10 grand (taking that 9 percent tach error into account), and it positively sings from 12 grand to redline. And any worries that the fly-by-wire throttle system would be anything but tight are quickly dispelled. Especially at the upper rev range, the throttle response and FI integration are instantaneous, with absolutely no on-off throttle abruptness.

The downside to the rev-happy motor shows itself when I occasionally exit a corner in too high a gear. Whether it's the high-hitting nature of the machine, the fly-by-wire throttle management or revised perceptions brought on by all those ponies up top, the R6 can feel sluggish at low rpms.

But then, that's why I love 600s, and why I actually appreciate what the new R6 makes me do.

Hear me out: 600s are machines that, because of their peaky nature, reward you greatly for getting your shifts, corner setup and exit launches all matched perfectly. And they punish you for getting it wrong, since peaky 600s don't have the midrange to haul you quickly back up to speed without a downshift.

The R6 may reward and punish more than most—but the rewards are more than worth it for me. I like a bike that needs me to do something.

From the seat, the bike seems loud when you're tucked into the bubble, with a very pronounced and not-at-all-disagreeable intake honk. Stand on the side of the track and watch an R6 whiz by, however, and the bike is practically stealthy with the stock exhaust, which I personally like.

It's a good balance: feedback to the rider is maximized, annoyance to other traffic is minimized.

Handlingwise, the R6 is an absolute scalpel. At track-day paces, the ultra-responsive chassis and one-finger brakes allow me to put the bike wherever I want, whenever I want. And if I happen to come into a corner too hot or off-line, the bike has so much in reserve that it can bail me out with a shrug.

In fact, I quickly find myself entering corners significantly faster than I often do, thanks to the confidence-inspiring nature of the R6.

Of course, the slipper clutch sure doesn't hurt either.

If you haven't ridden a bike with a slipper clutch, you're missing out. The clutch is designed to smooth out back forces fed into the drivetrain on downshifts, and it's tuned to slip slightly just before the wheel hops. Banging down three gears in a second and a half has never been easier, and makes all that time you spent learning to match throttle blips to downshifts while on the brakes superfluous.

And with the part of your brain that normally handles downshifts now freed up, you can more precisely concentrate on corner-entry technique.

The price for all this tech? MSRP ranges from $9,199 for blue to $9,499 for the 50th Anniversary Yellow/Black limited-edition model.

No matter what color you get, you'll wind up with one of the most track-happy Supersport machines available anywhere.

© 2006, American Motorcyclist Association