The last few winters I’ve had the joy and pains of daily driving a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. 4.0L straight six, 5 speed, 4WD, snow tires. Affectionately known as the Thunder Wagon due to a modified exhaust when I bought it. After years and years of having FWD hatchbacks to manage Worcester, MA blizzards and hills, I caved after the 2010/2011 winter and bought this. It’s been great, but the time has come for something new. I simply can’t keep up and deal with all of the little problems of a 20 year old vehicle. I mean, I have 3 bikes to work on, damn it! Also, I wanted something more modern, something… well… something made in this century.

I had one main requirement: a manual transmission. 4WD or AWD was another one, but I was willing to possibly do without (and I did). My dream vehicle was a slightly used Nissan Xterra, but I was also willing to consider a Subaru Crosstrek, or a Kia Soul because for some reason after renting one years ago I really like them. I’m weird, I know. My favorite Porsche is the 914. Again, I’m a bit odd. Long story short, I settled on the Kia Soul, because I found a 2011 with 18,000 miles for $8,300. That’s basically a brand new car (or trucklet, as I call it) for a third of the price of anything else I was considering. Were those other vehicles three times as good? No.

Now here’s the rub. My daily mode of transportation for months has been a Suzuki GSX1250FA. 1250cc, 100hp, 80 lb-ft of torque. The Kia is 1600cc, 120hp, 115 lb-ft of torque. Granted, the Suzuki is not a lightweight but I think you can imagine the Kia is much heavier. Let’s call the Suzuki 750lbs with fuel and rider, and the Kia 3000lbs with the same.

3000 lbs / 120hp = 25 lbs per hp
750 / 100 = 7.5 lbs per hp

For reference, the Kia has about the same power to weight ratio as a ten year old Ford Focus.

The Suzuki is about on par with a modern Nissan GT-R, a.k.a. Godzilla.

Imagine going from a GT-R to a ten year old Focus. That’s like an F1 driver going from their race car to a Fiat 500.

Oh wait… Many have done that. Heck, many still do. Even Vettel has one. It’s one of those age old questions: Is it more fun to drive a fast car slow or a slow car fast? The answer is, of course, if you can, to do both.

So that’s exactly what I’m doing. Not long ago I test rode the new SV650 from Suzuki, and while it had nowhere near the power of my bike, I was grinning like a little kid while tossing it around the streets. I missed that feeling. I miss having something underpowered that forces me to downshift before I pass instead of flicking a little more power on and being in triple digits. I miss having something that isn’t supposed to be fun, but is, because you are making it fun, willing it to be so. I miss making the most out of something instead of just basking in torque like it’s a yacht party in Monaco. I don’t miss 9,000 or 10,000 RPM redlines though. The Kia’s limiter kicks in pretty heavy at 6,500. That’s taking some getting used to.

Maybe it’s never easy downsizing from litre or liter (or ever leader) plus down in engine size. Some us can never fathom the concept. The power is all encompassing. I understand. Daily riding my 1250 has turned me into Alan Alda laughing at cars like they are Frank Burns. But still I understand the hollowness in that thought. Something ebbs away at you. I have seen others on 250s, I have seen them on 500s or 650s. They are having more fun and wringing their machines out more than most of us can comfortably fathom.

I will always want more, but for a little while, I want more with less.

Oh Jeepers H. Chrysler, not again.

See, this happened to me a few years back when I took my MSF course. I had never ridden a motorcycle before and it had been over ten years since I had been on a bicycle. I won’t even bother counting the few times my 50cc Jawa actually ran long, long ago in college. Our instructor split us into groups of four so some could watch while we went around the cones. Who does he put me with? The three Harley firefighters who had each been riding for 10 years or so on permits. Oh, great. No pressure there. Somehow I survived and passed. I didn’t drop the bike. I didn’t embarrass myself. Oh please, please, please, just let me have that same modicum of success again today!

I had never been on any track before in any sort of vehicle. I’ve done no other proper training since my MSF course, just riding a whole bunch for a few years. Before the track day I was thinking, “Yeah, I definitely want to be in the middle/intermediate group. I have no desire to try to be the one setting fast laps.” Since I had a good case of nerves and on/off sleep the night before, I had plenty of time to confirm this decision. I’m now thinking there’s something about my face that maybe instructors dislike that makes them throw me in on the deep end. It’s probably the nose ring. Technically, I know it was because I showed up to the track day on my Bandit 1250. That put me into the sport touring category, which was the fastest of the three groups. Cruisers/Baggers with floorboards were the slowest group. ADV bikes and a lot of other random bikes were the intermediates. Whatever the case, there I was. And when they announced during the initial introduction that the intermediate group was slightly larger than the others, I felt bad about thinking about asking to switch down sooo…. suck it up buttercup.

Also, is there some unknown Murphy’s Law about track days that totally random things will go wrong? Before I even went to pass tech, my metric allen key multi-tool broke on the first bolt trying to get my mirrors off (it’s required to remove or tape them up). Luckily I had brought my SAE combo allen wrench, which worked well enough. Then, upon firing the bike up during tech, my throttle stuck open at about 4000 rpm. This has never, ever, ever happened before on the bike. I shut it down, checked the cable, nothing… Fired it back up, perfectly normal idle. What the Franklin? Now any shred of confidence I might have had was gone and I felt like a complete idiot. Oh, and a bit later, my visor mechanism jammed taking my helmet off and a screw popped out. Apparently I had a loose screw. At least this one was literal, not metaphorical. I found it on the ground and fixed the helmet mechanism.

Anyhow, after some briefing, we were off on a follow the leader set of laps. Sweet, just a simple mellow trot around the track to get an idea of the layout. Umm… Ok, so this is less mellow than I thought. I’m already feeling overwhelmed by the amount of corners and the speed they come at. How the heck am I going to remember any of this? Thankfully, they mark important points on the track with white X’s, so what you really need to do is just try and connect these points and look for a small orange cone at the apex. Oh, and one thing about Palmer – the apex is never, ever where you think it’s going to be. It’s further than that. Nope, further than what you thought was further than that. I know they don’t move them between laps, but it sure as hell feels like it to a newbie.

Speaking of the layout at Palmer Motorsports Park (aka Whiskey Hill Raceway)… There are a lot of corners. And some half corners. And three hairpins. And a LOT of elevation changes. It felt like a cross between Monza, COTA, and Mount Panorama to me. Oh, and with a good couple dashes of the Laguna Seca corkscrew thrown in at the beginning (uphill) and end (downhill). (Palmer actually has more elevation change than Laguna Seca! -Ed.) There’s a straight, but it’s not a straight. It’s just a long kink coming off the carousel/corkscrew feeling combo at the end. This looks amazing on paper, and pants ruiningly nerve-wracking your first time around with a VFR breathing down your neck.

After the follow the leader session, each group fell into a rhythm of 15-20 minute classroom sessions followed by 15-20 minute track sessions. Repeat every hour. I’ll let Justin Hughes and Kate Murphy go into these in more detail since they are probably better experienced to. Me, I was trying to keep my head above water, the shiny bits right side up, and my heart/anxiety rate at a non-lethal level, at least until lunch. That was included in the price of the day, and I didn’t want to toss it back up – especially not in my just repaired helmet.

Throughout the day, I just kept trying to get a better idea of “Where the hell am I?” In the classroom sections they would talk about corner 7 or 9 or 12, and it wasn’t until towards the end of the day I could remember which hairpin they were talking about. By the end of the day, I understood that the carousel (turns 11 and 12) were my nemesis. I got them OK maybe two or three times, and thankfully made it through them the rest. This is a very good thing, because coming out of the left handers of 11/12 you NEED to miss the concrete curb on the right hand sudden apex of 13. I’ve watched enough Laguna Seca auto races on TV to know that you do not get a semi-corkscrew combo messed up. It’s amazing what shear force of will will do to enable you to toss your bike from one side to the other.

And that’s the thing I think I took away from this track day.

Force of will, of willing yourself to push your boundaries further. Not in outright speed, but pushing yourself to try just one thing and get past that comfort zone. In fact the faster I tried to go, the worse I would do. I know the old racing adage: slow is fast.

I know a lot of people were talking about trail braking by the end. I had enough problems getting my Bandit slowed down before some turns without jacking the back end about (NOT FUN going into the turn 9!) I was simply not in a place to concentrate on trail braking or some of the other more advanced items. I had read about them before and could understand them, but I had too much on my plate (and again, didn’t want to throw up lunch). What I was doing was leaning more, and more, and WAY MORE than I ever have. And looking so far into turns, trying to get my head down to “kiss the mirrors” as either Ken or Jeannine Condon put it, that the day after the event my neck was the sorest it’s been since my metal listening, head-banging youth. Looking back today at some footage another rider took, maybe a minute or so before he passed me, I realized I’m moving my torso over but not letting my neck flow with it and keeping at some weird angle.

That, right there, is absolutely what sums up the track day for me. One simple bit of advice – trying more. REALLY trying (ow). Then seeing how you weren’t doing it right. That’s given me so much to learn and grow with, so much more valuable than the roughly $300 I spent for a full day of track time and instruction.

I definitely woke up a better rider. A rather sore, but better rider. I kept pushing myself to do things I knew a bit about, but do them better and harder. That, alone, has given me much more confidence in how to move the bike around. On the ride home from the track and into work the next day, I can honestly, 100% completely say that I felt like an almost completely different rider than I was before the track day. I think that’s the highest compliment I could possibly give to this event. I know the phrase “game changing” is overused, but this experience truly was. If you love riding and want to get better at it, do this. I’m not trying to make this sound like a commercial, but there’s absolutely no friggin way I can honestly write something about this day and not say that it was worth every penny and more.

Just don’t tell Tony. I don’t want him to jack up the prices like I did to the back end of my Bandit a few times.

So my usual ride, heck, at this point my main mode of transport is a Suzuki GSX1250FA (Bandit) with a lovely 1250cc inline four that makes exactly enough torque. And by exactly I mean way more than I will ever, ever need. I can kit it out with touring stuff, and I can take it off and commute.

But like any good moto (or car, or guitar, or cat) enthusiast, I always want more. In my case, I want something more nimble than the Bandit. There’s a saying in the bike world that N+1 is the right amount of bikes, with N being the number you currently own. I own two but one is on its way out and I’d like to have something light and fun to toss around to replace my dying Katana, which is as close to a sport bike as I have.

Now with cars, you can just waltz into a dealership, and besides some funny looks for doing an outdated dance, you can just show your license and pretty much test drive anything within reason. With motorcycles, it doesn’t work that way. Usually if you are lucky, and SERIOUSLY looking to buy a bike, they might let you take it around the lot. So for us on two wheels it’s all about the Demo Days. These are days when either the dealership lines up a bunch of bikes to test ride, or a manufacturer arranges a whole bunch to ride. I never tried one until today and I really want to again now. I highly recommend waiting in line a whole bunch for an all too brief ride on something. Also, unlike amusement parks, this is free!

Also note, this demo day you rode in a group behind a leader bike. There’s a whole Reddit joke about leader bikes (look it up, seriously) but in this case it means a factory dude in a high-vis vest. They last about 20 minutes. Not enough to give you a total idea of a bike, but enough to make you want/or not want more. All you need is a motorcycle license (no permits) and long sleeves shirt, pants, boots. Heck you can even borrow a helmet but… ick.

Suzuki GSXR600

The Gixxer 600 is your entry level sport bike. It’s light, it’s nimble, you can flick it around and it has more than enough power to move you into stupid territory. It’s a great idea if you want to do track days, or be a squid, or just have something light and nimble to play with and go fast. Despite being leaned forward, it really is not at all uncomfortable. You sit forward but the bars are not as low as other sport bikes. I found the throttle to be very controllable, hell, easier than my Bandit. Never once was it jerky or surprising. It has plenty of usable power in the 3000-6000 rpm range for around town. I never got above 8000 on the city streets during the group ride, but I can only assume the fun begins above 10,000 since peak power is at around 13,000. I could easily see riding this around town, and then opening it up in second gear on an on-ramp and be doing over the limit before I hit third/merged into traffic. This is that kind of bike. I may sometimes be that kind of person. Not all the time, but definitely once in a while. It makes noise, but it would make better noise with a non-stock exhaust as most bikes do. It has a seat. I would not ride 200 miles on that seat, but I would easily commute my 50 miles each way on that seat. The brakes were nice and very linear. No surprises grabbing a little or a lot more of the brakes. Having never ridden a real “R” bike before I was intimidated before I rode it, but within a minute I was comfortable and at home. I feel like this is the sensible bike, for when you want to do non-sensible things.

Suzuki SV650

There is no other way around saying this: The Suzuki SV650 is the Mazda Miata of motorcycles.

It’s light, it’s fun, it can easily be at home on a track, it can be ridden daily, it’s relatively cheap, etc. etc. ad nauseam. Along with a Ninja 500, it is also one of the absolute most suggested beginner bikes.

And now I totally get all that and agree with it.

I’ve only sat on a Grom once and never ridden one, but just by sitting on it I wanted to do hooligan things on that tiny Grom. It just had that vibe and personality that makes you do that stupid grin that makes your friends nervous. From the moment I rolled away on the SV I got that smile. I’ve never wheelied, but I REALLY wanted to on the SV. It’s light. It’s upright. It sounds like the happiest little lawnmower in the world that just wants to GO! The redline comes up around 9K or so in an absolute moment. There’s not a ton of acceleration with that, but there a whole lot of GIMME-THE-NEXT-GEAR-LETS-DO-THAT-AGAIN!!! If you’ve never ridden before, you could hop on this and the noise would scare you well before the speed does (unlike most other stock bikes). If you’ve ridden before, you start going “WHEE!!!” inside your helmet. Which is far better than other bikes that make you do that in your pants.

I couldn’t believe how flickable the SV was for being an upright seating position. Usually I associate upright with “well this will take some effort to turn/lean” but nope. I felt like I could put the bike on the exact edge of the pavement on any turn (and I think I did) like I was Rossi or something. I’ve honestly never felt that way on a bike before. I could also bounce it in and out of potholes with abandon. It had brakes. They worked fine. The gearbox was surprisingly smooth for an entry Suzuki. The seat was actually less comfortable than the Gixxer which is kind of surprising but an easy fix. The only thing I didn’t like were the mirrors. I have no idea why Suzuki thought your elbows needed mirrors, but that’s where they are, and what they show. Again, a pretty minor aftermarket fix. All in all, I had a ton of fun on this bike. I get it. I totally get what people say about this bike and it’s true.

Which one would I buy?

Easy. For me it’s the GSXR600. If I bought either of these, it would be as a second bike. I want something fun and flickable, but I also like highway on ramps. As much shit-eating-grin fun as the SV was, I’m listening to the devil on my shoulder here. I could commute or do anything except my long distance stuff on the Gixxer. I also know how to keep bikes under 10,000 RPM, so for me, not a problem. I still feel like I’d have to go kind of Gixxer squid and get a pair of flip flops or something, though I would never wear let alone ride in them.