Don’t get me wrong. The OW01 still has a wow factor, but it’s not in the looks department. It feels special beneath me with the engine warming up though. The centrally mounted rev counter dominating the dash that sits between the twin air ducts protruding from the top of the fuel tank. The needle twitches as the throttle is blipped. This bike is all about revs, just look at the spec sheets – maximum torque and horsepower at 10,500rpm and 12,500rpm respectively, and that’s before the race kit.
It’s comfortable too. The pegs are quite high but there’s a decent stretch to the handlebars and enough room to shuffle around the seat area to get the fit right. The riders-eye view is more endurance racer than road bike, but then it is most definitely more of a street-legal race bike than a nicely kitted road bike. A slightly over-tall first gear requires a few extra revs as the OW eases away and through the close-ratio 6-speed ‘box. This one feels tight but in that precise, fast, accurate way that feels pretty much as sharp as anything available today. As you might expect, there’s not much happening in the performance department at around 5,000rpm. There’s just about enough torque to keep the thing from falling over but no hint of a promised 120 screaming horses around the corner. It’s no bad thing that the gearbox is good as it will never be idle on a highly tuned 750.
Neither is there any hint of anything other than immaculate fuelling and super-smooth power delivery. Let the revs build gently in second to 7,000rpm and force a big mouthful of fuel into those 38mm flat-slides and we suddenly no longer have a dated and unattractive motorcycle. It starts to suck and roar its way to 8,000rpm and then the screaming begins. The EXUP valves open and the engine internals get very busy as the rev counter needle flies round to the 12,000 mark. No need to rev all the way to 13,500, select third and repeat the process until the speedo passes 150mph. This motor is certainly frantic but also feels strong and willing. It’s not lightning fast but very quick – similar to a two year-old 600 – and has that same rev dependency. It would be tiresome though, without the EXUP system that prevents the power delivery from becoming an on/off affair.
Down-change and brake for a sweet second gear right and we’re suddenly back on a 15 year-old motorcycle. Braking at a fairly keen road pace requires four fingers on the lever and a degree of patience which is surprising of high-end Nissin equipment, quite possibly due to the age/lack of use of the pads fitted. Once re-calibrated, the brain can deal with this but I would steer clear of any circuit before a thorough overhaul. This does not spoil the ride though, which remains consistent and near perfect over a variety of twisty surfaces. The new looking Pilot Sport tyres work well here and give the confidence to exit corners banked over at high revs. It is a fun plaything that takes a while to get going, but impresses when it’s on the move.
You could claim, admittedly to a far lesser extent, a similar characteristic with the 888, but that is probably where the similarities between these two end. You have to squeeze into the SP5 like an Armani suit and forget about stretching out to get comfortable, you are looking sharp and should be grateful for the admiring glances that are about to come your way. I was at least 10 years younger when I last tried on an SP5 but it was coincidentally on the very same stretch of tarmac. It would not be unkind to call it cramped (though it also happens to fit me perfectly) but this is a feeling far out-weighed by the thrill of that pedigree lump bursting into a relaxed rumble. It all comes back in an evocative, nostalgic, amyl nitrate rush – the rattling clutch, black racing rear-sets with the Cagiva embossed rubbers, the numbered plaque on the headstock, the V-twin vibration and the heavenly sound that comes with it.
This is a rare motorcycle that possibly sounds better on its approach than it does disappearing off into the distance. In the same way as the FZR, pulling away and moving up the gears at a modest 5,000rpm results in a similar sensation – that of inactivity. Not to the same level as the Yam, but surprising for a motor of this size and configuration. I’m making sweet progress but there is very little feeling of useful low-end grunt. In fact, the same applies to the mid-range. This motor, like the Japanese 4-cylinder rival doesn’t actually get into its stride until 7,000rpm but unlike the OW, it’s short, sharp and ready for the next gear by 10,000rpm. It’s hard to tell which is the faster - it might be the Yamaha but they are both deceptive. The insane fuss and noise of the FZR makes it seem quicker than it probably is and the opposite applies to the Italian. But in the cold light of real-world road riding, the Ducati will be long gone before the 750 is even near the power.
The 888 needs warm tyres and a degree of influence to turn in but it does still feel light, nimble and precise. There is nothing to spoil the high-speed hustle on the SP5 as the brakes are perfect in every way. Feel at the lever, power and progression are perfectly matched to a machine of this weight and BHP. These Brembo’s are not only sublime, they feel ready to race and that is exactly how it should feel on an expensive Sport Production tool. No problem with the gearbox either. The change is fast and accurate which is good because it gets a lot of use. The 8-valve motor needs and loves to be revved. You can quite happily plod along in fifth and sixth but to get the best out of it, the revs have to be kept on the boil between 7-10,000rpm, and this all adds to the special sensation of riding the last of the legendary 851’s.
The effect that the SP5 experience has on the heart rate is hard to match. Not only does it make you feel special, it requires a level of concentration and input not normally associated with a V-twin, and with that comes the reward. It is impossible to not get a thrill from this particular Desmo experience, and realise how close you are to riding the all-conquering WSB assault vehicle. The Yamaha is special, but just can’t match the emotional overload that comes with riding a true legend.
