Hayabusa versus radio controlled car
The fastest production bike in the world goes head-to-head at Santa Pod with the fastest radio controlled car in the UK. Who’s going to come out on top?
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   RC Car Drag RacingMy heart’s beating faster and more erratically than a jazz percussionist as my frozen brain desperately tries to keep rhythm with what’s going on beneath me. I’m crammed behind the screen, wanting so much to bury the throttle but unable to because of the surfeit of horsepower from the Hayabusa’s 1,340cc motor and a distinct lack of grip from the chilly Santa Pod tarmac. The rear tyre spins between gear changes, each one quickly snatched from the pained scream of the rev-limiter as the bike blasts forwards. Then I’m hearing things. Weird things. A high-pitched shriek is boring into my ears. Perhaps the cam chain tensioner is about to explode in protestation? Then I realise that the high frequency noise has nothing to do with the bike. It’s coming from the small, driverless car next to me. Matching the Hayabusa’s acceleration. Bollocks... We’re in Northamptonshire on a cold but bright January day to find out if the 190bhp missile currently staking a claim to the title of the world’s fastest production motorcycle can beat a 2.6bhp, 4.5cc radio-controlled car from a standing start over an eighth of a mile down the famous Santa Pod runway. If it all sounds just a little bit too easy with the odds stacked massively in favour of the bike, then let’s just take a look at the stats for a minute. The Hayabusa has to shift a claimed 220kg using 190bhp. That’s 850bhp per tonne. The car on the other hand, has just 1.7kg to propel with a 2.6bhp motor that shrieks its way to a 33,000rpm redline and a top speed well in excess of 85mph. And the power-to-weight ratio? Nearly twice that of the bike with a massive 1,520bhp per tonne. And the car is making 580bhp per litre, compared to a MotoGP bike’s 290bhp per litre. If that’s not bad enough, the Schumacher (nothing to do with Michael) RC car is being driven by former British Champion, Mike Stevenson. Initially I was a little dismissive of a grown up with a toy car. When it doesn’t start I become just a little bit smug as Mike and his son, Ben, delicately operate on the miniscule motor while I simply press a button and wheelspin off up the track in a cloud of tyre smoke and machismo. Hah! Look at me. Maybe I find the sight of a man in his 50s running to collect his car after it has run out of petrol amusing and yes, I do grin when he loses sight of it, turns the wrong way and smashes into a wall, wrecking the fragile bodywork. But lined up next to each other, waiting for the green light to come on, I suddenly become aware that I am taking this very seriously indeed. The thought of being beaten by a 10th scale RC car with an automatic gearbox is really far too much to take in, let alone the risk of losing through complacency. “Wasn’t really ready for that one” I shout to Mike who is now grinning from ear-to-ear. “Alright then, mate. Bit too much power for you to control is there?” Luckily the timing gear hadn’t been triggered by the car. I’ve been handed a reprieve. I am not being intimidated by this bloke and his overgrown dinky toy. No way. I drop a bit of air out of the rear tyre, light it up on the concrete pre-run patch and head towards the lights. Mike is ready to rumble, controller in hand, aerial aloft like a conductor’s baton, the grin still etched across his face from his earlier victory. A victory by default, I feel I must add. This time it’s for real. The timing lights turn green, the bike spins its rear tyre a little but then grips, thrusting forward as the insane shrieking toy next to me buzzes in my head. By the time the Busa’s into second it’s all over for the car and we’ve won it by quite a stretch. Bike: 1/8th mile 7.2seconds 110mph Thanks to Santa Pod (www.santapod.co.uk) and Schumacher cars (www.racing-cars.com) for all their help. If you want the ultimate rc car, Schumacher’s the place! |
My heart’s beating faster and more erratically than a jazz percussionist as my frozen brain desperately tries to keep rhythm with what’s going on beneath me. I’m crammed behind the screen, wanting so much to bury the throttle but unable to because of the surfeit of horsepower from the Hayabusa’s 1,340cc motor and a distinct lack of grip from the chilly Santa Pod tarmac. The rear tyre spins between gear changes, each one quickly snatched from the pained scream of the rev-limiter as the bike blasts forwards.
Then I’m hearing things. Weird things. A high-pitched shriek is boring into my ears. Perhaps the cam chain tensioner is about to explode in protestation? Then I realise that the high frequency noise has nothing to do with the bike. It’s coming from the small, driverless car next to me. Matching the Hayabusa’s acceleration. Bollocks...
We’re in Northamptonshire on a cold but bright January day to find out if the 190bhp missile currently staking a claim to the title of the world’s fastest production motorcycle can beat a 2.6bhp, 4.5cc radio-controlled car from a standing start over an eighth of a mile down the famous Santa Pod runway. If it all sounds just a little bit too easy with the odds stacked massively in favour of the bike, then let’s just take a look at the stats for a minute. The Hayabusa has to shift a claimed 220kg using 190bhp. That’s 850bhp per tonne. The car on the other hand, has just 1.7kg to propel with a 2.6bhp motor that shrieks its way to a 33,000rpm redline and a top speed well in excess of 85mph. And the power-to-weight ratio? Nearly twice that of the bike with a massive 1,520bhp per tonne. And the car is making 580bhp per litre, compared to a MotoGP bike’s 290bhp per litre. If that’s not bad enough, the Schumacher (nothing to do with Michael) RC car is being driven by former British Champion, Mike Stevenson.
Initially I was a little dismissive of a grown up with a toy car. When it doesn’t start I become just a little bit smug as Mike and his son, Ben, delicately operate on the miniscule motor while I simply press a button and wheelspin off up the track in a cloud of tyre smoke and machismo. Hah! Look at me. Maybe I find the sight of a man in his 50s running to collect his car after it has run out of petrol amusing and yes, I do grin when he loses sight of it, turns the wrong way and smashes into a wall, wrecking the fragile bodywork.
But lined up next to each other, waiting for the green light to come on, I suddenly become aware that I am taking this very seriously indeed. The thought of being beaten by a 10th scale RC car with an automatic gearbox is really far too much to take in, let alone the risk of losing through complacency.
The first run, the lights turn to green, and there’s a momentary lack of forward propulsion as the cold Bridgestone fails to grip the tarmac, the bike slewing ungracefully up the track. Meanwhile, propelled by a piston the size of a dormouse’s tadger, the car has already reached the halfway point and is showing no signs of slowing. The speed of it is staggering.
“Wasn’t really ready for that one” I shout to Mike who is now grinning from ear-to-ear. “Alright then, mate. Bit too much power for you to control is there?” Luckily the timing gear hadn’t been triggered by the car. I’ve been handed a reprieve.
I am not being intimidated by this bloke and his overgrown dinky toy. No way. I drop a bit of air out of the rear tyre, light it up on the concrete pre-run patch and head towards the lights. Mike is ready to rumble, controller in hand, aerial aloft like a conductor’s baton, the grin still etched across his face from his earlier victory. A victory by default, I feel I must add.
This time it’s for real. The timing lights turn green, the bike spins its rear tyre a little but then grips, thrusting forward as the insane shrieking toy next to me buzzes in my head. By the time the Busa’s into second it’s all over for the car and we’ve won it by quite a stretch.
I still can’t help but be impressed by Mike and his car though. For an outlay of around £500 he’s managed to stretch a £9,000 motorbike in a head-to-head race.
