RIDING THE RC
Our man in Europe takes a few laps on the motorcycle that Mike the Bike hated
BOTH OF THE FACTORY RC181 HONDA 500 FOURS built in 1966 still survive. One is in the hands of Honda Japan, the other is a part of the Donington Raceway collection in Great Britian. Now the property of Mike Hailwood’s widow. Pauline, the Donington bike is displayed alongside the Reynolds-framed 500 and an RC173 four-cylinder 350, and has remained idle except for occasional crowd-pleasing parade laps—including a few in 1984 with Freddie Spencer manning the controls.
I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to ride the RC 181, thanks to former motorcycle and automobile world champion John Surtees. For the filming of a BBC documentary, Surtees had pulled the Hailwood Honda out of mothballs for a few laps around Donington's wellused racetrack. Once the TV producer was satisfied with the amount of footage in the can, John vacated the seat so I could experience the thrill of a half-dozen laps on one of the most legendary—or should I say, infamous-motorcycles the racing world has ever known.
it was quite an experience, even if I did approach it with more than the ususal amount of trepidation. After all, this was a motorcycle that even Mike the Bike couldn't fully master. Would it turn around and bite the mere-mortal likes of me?
The result was an interesting lesson in the theory of relativity, motorcycle-style. Respecting the pricelessness of this piece of racing history, I observed a 10,500rpm rev limit and never approached the outer limits of the bike's handling envelope; nevertheless, I can say with my hand on my heart that I rode the 500 hard enough to get a pretty good idea of its true character. Furthermore, because today’s mega-powered, widetired racecars have ravaged the Donington circuit’s asphalt, the venue for my few laps simulated quite well the average racetrack of the 1960s, even if it wasn’t quite as rough as the Isle of Man road course. And under these conditions, the Honda’s handling showed itself to be far from perfect, but it still was a long way from being the most unruly or difficult bike to ride that I’ve tested in recent times. I don't wish to detract in any way from Hailw'ood's superhuman efforts on the bike, but I honestly feel that anyone who races a modern GP bike has to cope with a device that is at least twice as fearsome as the RC 181 Honda.
Here's where the relativity comes in. Freddie Spencer’s NSR500 has a power-to-weight ratio of 1.8 pounds per bhp, almost twice as good as the RC 18 l’s, if we are to believe Honda's claims of 310 pounds and 93 horsepower for Hailwood’s bike. No matter how great the advances in suspension and tire design, not to mention chassis construction, over the last 20 years, riding the RC 181 at the limit would seem matter-of-fact to the majority of today’s GP stars. Even good-handling racebikes today shudder as you pour on the power, try to kick the back wheel out of line, paw the air like a circus pony and use all the road in and out of corners.
Still, in an era when 60 bhp was nirvana to the rider of a 308-pound Manx Norton, the RC 181 Honda was a truly fearsome beast, one that required its rider to explore then-new frontiers of performance and control. It was the most powerful GP bike built up to that stage, with an exceptional power-to-weight relationship. And as even they will now admit, the Japanese manufacturers in those days—Honda included—had not yet learned the dark art of frame design, or the optimum use of materials. That was all to come in the future.
Even judged by today’s standards, however, the Honda’s engine is a delight, surprising me with its flexible power. I’d expected a lower-revving version of the famous 250 Six that I had ridden several years back; an engine that needed to be kept above 10,000 rpm if you wanted respectable forward motion. But the RC181 has much more flywheel than the Six, plus it pulls well from low revs, about 5000 rpm being enough to get you off the mark. At about 7800 rpm, though, the camshafts start to do their real work, and there’s a noticeable amount of extra urge above that mark.
With a 12,500-rpm redline, the RC181 gave Hailwood a relatively wide powerband to play with, aided by its six-speed gearbox. And as with all early, multi-cylinder Honda racers, the RC 181 provides a mechanical symphony for all those within earshot, its four megaphones booming forth with the most wonderfully deep, mellifluous exhaust note.
Like the engine, the RC181’s front suspension was surprisingly effective. On Donington’s bumps and scars, the fork was amazingly responsive, especially under hard braking, where, unlike many ancient telescopic units, it didn’t freeze solid and transmit jolts to the rider’s forearms. The rear suspension, however, felt much too stiff. Perhaps the rear dampers were just too old and worn-out, but they were almost certainly the main culprits in the handling misbehavior that was evident while exiting fast corners, for the Honda would insistently shake its head as power was applied while still leaned over. It wasn’t of tank-slapper proportions, but there was a relentless and insiduous weave that surely got all of Hailwood's attention at the higher velocities he attained.
But in the end, it’s the Honda’s constant need for attention that is its most noticeable handling quirk, requiring that an incredible amount of energy—perhaps better termed “rider input”—be invested to ride the thing at any sort of speed. It’s actually quite a paradox, in that despite being very slow-steering, the RC requires its rider to make constant steering corrections once a turn is initiated. An unattentive rider will be greeted by understeer as the front end starts washing toward the outside of a corner, a sure recipe for disaster.
I think it is this considerable degree of physical effort that wore Hailwood out during his RC 181 rides. By his own admission, he never did any training to get in shape for bike racing in those days, relying on the sheer number of bikes he rode to keep fit. GPs were much longer in back then, sometimes up to 100 miles, and Hailwood often contended two or three classes a day. Today's riders undertake intensive physical training programs that are compulsory in order to control the present rocketships of the 500cc GP class. If Hailwood had adopted a similar policy, I wonder if he’d have found the RC181 quite such a gruelling machine to ride. We shall never know.
I know, however, that riding the Hailwood Honda enabled me to explore the legend of one of the most controversial bikes the racing world has ever known. Within the context of its time frame, I can see how its reputation was well-founded; not from any one basic fault, but rather from the overall demands it made on its rider, allied with the level of tire and suspension development of 20 years ago. As it turned out, Honda had to wait almost another 20 years before securing the coveted 500cc world roadracing championship, and it took a latter-day riding genius in the form of Freddie Spencer to do it, on a bike that also had more than its share of handling problems.
Some things, it seems, never change. -Alan Cathcart
