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Throttle to the stop, heading up the hill toward the corkscrew at Laguna Seca Raceway, the dashboard light blinking triggers my right wrist to back off a hair and my left foot to rise. Slipping effortlessly into the next gear the transition between ratios is mechanical perfection as we hurtle toward the blind rise. Topping 200kph, front wheel climbing and bars dancing in my hands, there is nothing but a tarmac lip and blue sky on the radar. Looking about as large as a double garage door, it is time to take my finger off the fast forward button. Bringing the twelve brake pistons into the act, heartbeat rising to the red line, all I can think of is what in the world must it be like when the MotoGP riders come in here side by side at speeds that make it seem like I am out for a Sunday stroll.

Stripping off enough speed to slam the big Yamaha on its side for the downward descent, the rear wheel is wagging and I am fighting to divert my vision from what looks like the end of the world. Looking down through the corkscrew and as soon as we are bouncing off my left knee puck it is time to get rowdy on the bars and manhandle the R1 over onto the right hand side, hitting my knee puck with an even harder bang as my stomach feels the drop. Twisting the throttle back open the back end of the bike jackhammers for a few seconds over the rough pavement as the next leap of faith presents itself.

Down hill, and looking slicker than a drug rep’s expensive suit, Rainey corner is almost as intimidating as the corkscrew. I am obviously lacking the needed equipment to hold the throttle more than a hair off the stop until I am on my knee again, and seeing the exit in full Technicolour I give a huge sigh of relief. Riding the new 2007 R1 at Laguna Seca is a totally surreal experience from so many perspectives. By the time I climb off the R1 at the end of my session, sweating in the cool afternoon air, my head is spinning.
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