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So what did I learn from this exercise? First if all, I've got to be fit if I want to ride a superbike hard for more than ten minutes. The extreme performance (to put it mildly) means that the otherwise painless tasks of hanging on under acceleration and bracing myself against braking, left a sensation not unlike a Chinese torture rack session. And that's the first ten minutes. Secondly, I've got to wrap my senses around the turn of speed. I had to continually tell myself, 'Yes, you ARE going that fast!' Barely a twist of the throttle and I was braking for my life again. But to be fair, it's just a matter of getting used to it, and I did manage fairly well by the end of the ride. Also, I learnt not to hang off the bike like a chimpanzee, as I was initially doing. There's at least four trees worth of rubber on offer, so a little shift of weight to either side works better than being in a precarious position under a bike that weighs the better part of 200 kilos. Finally, I've got to get a superbike. For all my passion for motorcycles, I'll do myself a gross injustice by never owning a superbike in my life. And I hope I remember to ride it like it’s meant to be ridden, too. While we were nowhere near the level of riding you see at the tiny land mass next to England, I'd say I got what I wanted to see - an improbably brave chap riding an impossibly quick machine. Superbikes are the most thrilling form of transportation ever crafted by man, a harmony of art and engineering that appeal to the most primal of instincts inside us. And I'm happy I get to ride them once in a while. Now, I just need to learn how to ride a superbike.
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