Friends United

Off a quiet side street not far from the Portsmouth seafront a group of Kettle owners meet to fettle their bikes, help sort each other's gremlins and have a laugh - all under the watchful, crazy, gaze of Ozzy Osbourne...

ALL this began at the 2001 Beaulieu Motorcycle World and the chance reunion of old school mates Gary Cobb and Graham Newson. Gary was helping man the Kettle Club stand at the New Forest show. Graham was a visitor.

Hanging around together as teenagers, they had shared a passion for two strokes in general and the Suzuki GT750 in particular. Although they still lived within a few miles of each other in the Porstmouth area, the former pupils of North End Secondary Mod had lost touch in the late Eighties. Then suddenly there they were, face to face again, raking over old times...
Gary, 46, was still a Kettleman but Graham, 45, was just getting back into motorcycling after buying a Kawasaki ZR-7 about nine months earlier. He went for the retro-style 750 because it reminded him of the Golden Era, when men were men, bikes were bikes and it was great to be a teenager. Plastic race reps do not push his buttons and, unfortunately, neither did the Kawasaki. Born-again biking had become yawn-and-yawn again biking.
Graham said: "There was nothing wrong with the Kawasaki, in fact it was a lovely bike in many ways, but I didn't ride it very much because it was so bland and boring. It had no soul."
One look at the bikes on Kettle Club's Beaulieu stand reminded Graham of the old magic the retro had failed to rekindle.
He said: "The Kettle was always THE bike of the Seventies as far as I was concerned. It had such flair and style. I could never afford one back then because they cost loads of money.
"I loved two strokes and the last bike I had in the Eighties was an RD250DX but the Kettle was the best two stroke and the bike I always wanted. When I saw the Kettle stand at Beaulieu, I made straight for it. I had been chatting away for about five minutes to Fred Dear, who was then the club's press officer, when I saw Gary.

BIMOTA have, since their inception in the early Seventies, occupied a unique place in motorcycle history. Expensive and virtually hand built, while utilising the very best materials and construction techniques available at the time, they steadfastly make exotic and stunning machines in very limited numbers.

The Pesaro based Italian company, originally created by three heating engineers, specialise in taking already established engine designs and wrapping their own brand of tubing and suchlike around it to create the best of both worlds.
They have previously designed and built their own 500cc V-twin but despite the promise shown by the power plant it was never a success. Luckily, when it comes to chassis design Bimota do get it right - every time.
Such is the reputation forged by Bimota that there have been many occasions in the past when top manufacturers (read Japanese here) have beaten a path to their door in an attempt at capturing a little of the Latin magic to make their fast - but relatively poor handling - machines appeal to an ever more discerning audience.
The design of the SB4's chassis is identical to that of the CB900 engined HB2 and, as such, was the very last of the Tamburini-penned Bimotas.
So successful was the chassis layout, that the same frame and cycle parts were used for a variety of different engines like the Kawasaki Z1000 powered KB3 which, once fully clothed, is identical in appearance to the Suzuki version.
Bimotas are traditionally built in very few numbers, guaranteeing their rarity and appeal when seen in the flesh. The SB4 production run, for instance, never topped 272, so exclusivity is assured wherever you choose to go on this machine.
The machine on test is the half faired version, the best looking one in my opinion. The SB4S was the fully faired variant that also featured an oil cooler, no doubt to counter the lack of airflow around the whole of the engine.
With its uncompromising seating position suggesting nothing less than flat-out riding, the SB4 could be written off purely as a track tool. Indeed, before riding it I was expecting a full-on race experience, complete with aching wrists and back, from this thoroughbred stallion.
In use however, nothing could be further from the truth. The Katana power plant is tractable and versatile and the clip-on and single race seat arrangement is quite forgiving.
Once on the move, the bike, though bulky looking, becomes alive as only a Bimota truly can - the weight and laid-out stance forgotten for the duration of the journey.
Riding the SB4 is a rewarding experience. There is something indefinable about the way the Suzuki engine delivers its 112 bhp and also the manner in which the chassis keeps it all in check. By today's lithesome standards, at 406 lbs this is some heavyweight piece of metal, even though a whole chunk lighter than the donor Suzuki GSX1100, and yet the subtleties required for fine and accurate handling are still transmitted through to the rider.
The only element that gets anywhere near letting the side down is the grip. Fitted with an ageing Michelin M89 on the rear and a similarly dated front, the compound of which had seen better days, they took a while to get fully warm and totally willing. Until that point was reached the rear stepped out, slid under power and generally let all and sundry know it wasn't yet fully awake.
The smaller diameter tyres, with their wider profile and huge contact patch, are known for their lethargy, however they perform in a sprightly manner indicating that the Bimota chassis is almost super- charging the normal performance of such items.
Like a fine wine that needs a little time and air before the full potential can be tapped, the Bimota rattled and shook its way to fully warm, but once there she behaved impeccably.
Both fast and supremely agile, the lengthy machine becomes one with the rider once up in the sort of figures that are missing from a bingo card. Obvious really, you can't imagine Concorde being too happy poodling around at subsonic speeds, so why expect this thoroughbred motorcycle to be any different?
There comes a speed, treble figures of course, at which the mechanical rumblings of the SB4 stops and the poetry begins for real. It then continues pulling all the way through the 150 mph mark and beyond.
The Bimota way of doing things is the modern-day equivalent of a heart and lung transplant where the bodily essentials of a donor are ripped out and replaced into a more willing recipient ready for action.
The power plant emits a lethargic sub bass note which never really rises to a crescendo like modern day machines but don't let that lazy outer layer catch you unawares, this is one potent engine with horsepower in places it ought to be illegal to have them in.

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