Yamaha: V-Max
YAMAHA V-MAX
CYCLE WORLD TEST
FOR THE SAKE OF POWER
EVERY MOTORCYCLE HAS A REASON FOR BEING. With some, that reason just is more obvious than with others.
In the case of Yamaha's all-new V-Max, that reason couldn't be any more obvious: power. From the don't-mess-with-me snarl of its exhaust to the way its massive, 1198cc V-Four engine literally dominates the bike's appearance, the V-Max is power distilled to its purest, rawest elements. The V-Max doesn't even have to go fast to prove that it is fast; somehow, you and everyone else who sees the bike already know it's fast. It doesn’t use the guise of a roadracerreplica or a high-tech canyon-carver as an excuse to have power; it has power for the sake of power. The VMax is power.
Consider that this bike will do 10second quarter-miles all day long— not just for Yamaha Motors and its featherweight, hired riders, but with almost anyone on board. Even so, numbers don’t tell half the story; because while numerous other motorcycles can get into the 10-second quarter-mile bracket, there’s no other production bike on earth that can deliver the feelings and sensations—in particular, the rush of fierce, nonstop, mind-blurring acceleration — that the V-Max can.
When you whack open the throttle on this machine, things start happening immediately and in rapid succession. At about 3000 rpm, the V-Max lunges forward with more low-rpm power than is available on any bike previously offered to the public. Within a fraction of a second, you’re firmly pitched back against the sharp step in the Yamaha's seat while the tach needle springs upward with alarming speed. Another quarter-second and you reach what would be called the powerband on any other motorcycle but is more like some kind of hyper-thrust on the V-Max. That happens at about 6500 rpm. at which point the V-Max starts going faster faster. By then, the V-Max has become a virtual missile, a manually controlled rocket aimed at the heart of any rider who lusts for the thrills of raw horsepower.
Aside from the blazing acceleration it provides, what sets the Max’s engine apart from other powerful motors is that it has power everywhere. Off the bottom, it’s torquier than a Honda Gold Wing. On top, it hits harder than a Kawasaki 900 Ninja. And from bottom to top, the powerband is broader than that of a BMW K 100’s.
That kind of combination doesn't just spring into being overnight. The V-Max is the end product of a long series of heavily tested prototypes, all using an engine based loosely on the one that powers Yamaha's Venture Royale touring bike. Yamaha claims that each prototype was more powerful than the previous one, and that the production bike, with 143 horsepower, is the most powerful of all.
The engine in the production VMax has the same 70-degree, V-Four configuration and bore-and-stroke dimensions as the Venture, but with different cams that provide more of everything—duration, overlap, lift. Flywheel inertia has been decreased through the use of a smaller alternator, and lighter pistons reduce the reciprocating mass. The V-Max’s 16 valves all have bigger heads, but use smaller-diameter stems to help offset their increase in weight and to offer less restriction to airflow in the ports.
By themselves, though, these hotrodding modifications would have resulted in exactly the kind of motorcycle that Yamaha didn't want: fast but cammy. So to come up with such an incredibly wide powerband, Yamaha conceived what it calls V-Boost, yet another in Japan’s ever-increasing array of something-for-nothing tuning tricks. With V-Boost, though, there’s no question about its worth: It works.
V-Boost consists of little more than two passages—one connecting the intake manifolds of the two right-side cylinders, another connecting those of the left two. The passages are closed until 6000 rpm, at which point an rpm-sensitive servo motor opens a butterfly valve in each passage. This allows two carbs, instead of one, to feed each cylinder at higher revs. Yamaha claims this results in a more constant flow of gases through the carburetors, as well as doubling the volume of fuel mixture available to each cylinder. In other words, more power. A reasonable claim, especially in view of the V-Max motor’s extraordinary performance.
With all this talk of ungodly power and unprecedented torque, you might wonder why the V-Max’s quarter-mile times aren’t quicker. After all, its best run of 10.89 seconds is .02-second slower than the time posted by the FJ1100 Yamaha we tested last year. But for one thing, the staffer who drag-tested the V-Max is, by his own admission, about one or two tenths slower in the quarter-mile than the staffer who ran the FJ 1 100. Then there is the V-Max’s considerable weight (599 pounds without gas), which extracts its toll in acceleration. And its rear tire simply is unable to provide sufficient traction for ultra-quick launches, despite its mammoth size ( 1 50/90-1 5). But once the big Yamaha gets ahold of the ground, there is nothing you can buy off of a showroom floor that can rocket down the road as quickly.
Even when you aren’t spellbound by the V-Max’s incredible engine, there are plenty of things to talk about—the bike’s surprising handling, for one. Because the V-Max isn’t configured as a sport racer, it’s relieved of the need to be brilliant in the twisties. But it’s a decent cornercarver anyway. Even though the VMax cosmetically leans toward the cruiser end of the motorcycle spectrum, it’s much more sport-oriented than its appearance lets on. The bike is decidedly more agile than a Honda V65 Magna and, in fact, is almost on par with a V65 Sabre.
Admittedly, neither of those machines set new standards for handling excellence, and it’s unlikely that the V-Max will, either. But keep in mind that this is a big motorcycle, although it hides its weight well. It tucks gracefully into turns, especially those of the long, sweeping variety, and the front wheel never gives the slightest hint of losing traction. The stability is faultless on everything from windswept desert roads to bumpy canyon curves, and the triple-disc braking system is superb, allowing quick, controllable, low-effort stops without any trace of fade.
Only in super-tight turns does the Max’s handling leave much to be desired. The bike tends to resist being leaned very far or stuffed into a turn quickly, and once you do get it keeled over, a little throttle (thanks to all that horsepower) works to set it upright again. It’s also fairly easy to drag the undercarriage if you set your mind to it; but considering the bike’s mission, the cornering clearance is more than adequate.
Another thing you won’t have to do when playing sport rider on the VMax is worry about the bike wallowing around on its suspension, the rear end in particular. Yamaha feels that the V-Max will be ridden hard and fast, and so gave the rear suspension correspondingly firm springing and damping rates. The flip side to that, of course, is that during low-speed, around-town riding and interstate droning, the rear end can feel harsh. The rider always knows when he has run over rough patches and pavement joints, even with the shocks set to their lowest damping settings.
That the V-Max uses two rear shocks instead of one was a styling move on Yamaha’s part, not an engineering decision. A single-shocker would have been quite possible, as evidenced by the Monoshocked Venture. But the V-Max is designed to be a beefy, brawny, bull of a bike, and Yamaha saw no sense in mixing that image with one of a petite, singleshock roadracer.
On the other hand, Yamaha didn’t really seem too concerned about crossed images in a number of other areas, for the V-Max is a strange combination of tradition intermixed with original thinking. The twin shocks are traditional, as is the plastic facsimile of a fuel tank located in front of the rider (the real tank is under the seat). But then there are radical breaks from tradition, such as the fake, brushed-aluminum air scoops on either side of the bike, the threepiece seat, and the dished aluminum rear wheel. All those styling licks, as well as the very existence of the bike itself, are indicative of Yamaha’s wish to establish some new traditions, to find new markets through fresh solutions to old problems.
Some of those fresh, new ideas aren't entirely practical, though. For example, the filler for the fuel tank is located under the seat, instead of in front of the seat as it is on other machines with centrally located fuel tanks. This aids in design simplicity, but makes filling the tank a chore. The entire seat doesn’t flip up. and instead, only the center section lifts up and pivots forward. Operating the release latches under both sides of the seat requires a bit of fumbling, and the filler opening is recessed so far down in a hole that it’s hard to reach.
On top of that, the seat that covers the filler isn’t particularly comfortable. In the showroom and during short jaunts it seems soft enough; but as soon as the ride mileage takes on triple-digit proportions, the seat proves to be too thin, too hard and poorly shaped.
Other aspects of the V-Max, however, are quite comfortable on long trips. And most of them can be traced back to that incredible engine. No vibration, for example, ever makes its way from the engine to the handlebar, footpegs or seat. Not that you don’t feel the engine running—far from it. The V-Max doesn't buzz, vibrate or shake, but it does throb. At low rpm in particular, the Yamaha lets you know it's alive by sending a gentle pulse through the handlebar and seat. It’s hardly annoying; in fact, it gives the bike an I'm-ready-if-youare kind of feeling when the engine is just idling. At higher rpm you don't notice any throbbing at all, usually because you’re too busy holding on and trying to keep from sliding off the back of the bike.
Of course, acceleration is something you’ll have to watch if you plan to rack up some miles on the Max; a little too much of it and you can easily coax the bike’s gas mileage down into the teens. But that’s almost expected of a bike that is synonymous with horsepower. And so long as the rider has a conservative throttle hand, the V-Max can yield reasonably good mileage on the open road.
But then, it’s obvious that the VMax isn’t made for the superslab or reasonable fuel consumption any more than it was made for conservative throttle hands. No, the V-Max isn't a touring bike, and it certainly isn’t a canyon racer or even a cruiser. But that seems to prompt an obvious question; What is it?
The answer is quite simple, really. While the Yamaha V-Max is something new, something extreme, something radical, more than anything it is something very, very powerful. It doesn’t have to be anything else.
YAMAHA
V-MAX
$5299
