The bars go light in my hands. One minute,the Suzuki is a
tightly packed projectile of just-about-contained violence. The next instant,
the rear tyre is pointed at the scenery, the front wheel is straight but not
entirely in touch with the tarmac. I’d love to tell you what I was thinking at
the time, but I’m discovering that I can’t think as fast as the Suzuki can bite
off a careless hand. Thankfully, the metal plate we just passed over – a
typically Mumbai solution to a plethora of road problems is to lay flat, thick
metal plates over it – runs out and grippy tarmac seems to settle the rear. The
snap of the wheels getting back in line causes me to open the throttle suddenly,
and in the next frightening instant the Suzuki rockets forward like a barely
aimed shotgun pellet. The baritone roar gains an alien ferocity as the
buildings on both sides begin to rush by fast enough to appear as one,
continuous grey wall. Living with this much power cannot be easy. And we’re
going to find out just how easy it isn’t.
Welcome, then, to a near-400 bhp morning. Yup, that’s two 2007 Suzuki GSX-R1000s, each making 185 bhp in factory trim at the crank – motorcycles at the very cutting edge of street-going two-wheel tech. And then Prasad Divadkar (copper/black) and Vivek Jaising (traditional Suzuki colours) went to work on them. Neither likes it stock, and neither has held back. Their motorcycles, then, are the spiritual equivalents of a privately owned military Hummer. Devastatingly potent, but used to generate laughs rather than turn their enemies into erstwhile foes.
So the copper/black Gixxer wears super light wheels, while the other one has stock wheels, but in lovely chrome. Both have loud, loud, loud cans, power commanders to take full advantage of the pipes, and Jaising’s even got a quickshifter added. There’s so many bits and bobs in there that more than once on this glorious, earsplitting morning, I found myself asking the duo whether that normal looking part was, in fact, stock. The answer, as it turns out, was no. In this state, both bikes are close to 195 bhp at the crank, and I can tell you one thing. Think of the best way to liven up a muggy, warm morning, and you won’t even come close to this – two vocal GSX-R1000s.Instead of heading out onto the highway to figure out the motorcycles, we chose to head into the heart of Mumbai this time. The sound ricocheting off the surrounding urbana was incredible. It was almost as if the bikes had their own captive audience, which was always clapping appreciatively. The superbike soundtrack was a shoo-in for a multiple platinum, and this, really, I could live with. Even if my neighbours couldn’t.
Welcome, then, to a near-400 bhp morning. Yup, that’s two 2007 Suzuki GSX-R1000s, each making 185 bhp in factory trim at the crank – motorcycles at the very cutting edge of street-going two-wheel tech. And then Prasad Divadkar (copper/black) and Vivek Jaising (traditional Suzuki colours) went to work on them. Neither likes it stock, and neither has held back. Their motorcycles, then, are the spiritual equivalents of a privately owned military Hummer. Devastatingly potent, but used to generate laughs rather than turn their enemies into erstwhile foes.
So the copper/black Gixxer wears super light wheels, while the other one has stock wheels, but in lovely chrome. Both have loud, loud, loud cans, power commanders to take full advantage of the pipes, and Jaising’s even got a quickshifter added. There’s so many bits and bobs in there that more than once on this glorious, earsplitting morning, I found myself asking the duo whether that normal looking part was, in fact, stock. The answer, as it turns out, was no. In this state, both bikes are close to 195 bhp at the crank, and I can tell you one thing. Think of the best way to liven up a muggy, warm morning, and you won’t even come close to this – two vocal GSX-R1000s.Instead of heading out onto the highway to figure out the motorcycles, we chose to head into the heart of Mumbai this time. The sound ricocheting off the surrounding urbana was incredible. It was almost as if the bikes had their own captive audience, which was always clapping appreciatively. The superbike soundtrack was a shoo-in for a multiple platinum, and this, really, I could live with. Even if my neighbours couldn’t.
