- Joined
- Feb 21, 2006
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This is an article from the Sun newspaper UK (OK its a bit of a rag) But it has its good points 
I’D lost the coin toss. Bright sunshine, 772 miles ahead of me and I’m in a CAR.
Stuck behind a bung of caravans. Great. “Car versus bike†stories usually compare a mega-expensive car with a regular road bike. But what if you use the same price bracket and engine size for both vehicles? We did.
Suzuki’s Swift car has a 1.3litre engine, 92.4bhp and 116lb.ft of torque for £8,260. Their Hayabusa bike is £739 more expensive. Its 1,340cc engine has a similar amount of torque but 102bhp more.
So I challenged Biker’s own Stig to a sprint from Belgium to the south of France.
My weapon of choice went with the coin toss but I stocked up with loads of goodies for my minimal-stop strategy.
The Stig leathered up and fired the ‘Busa into action while I loaded my little strawberry coloured car. But it’s as fruity as a slab of concrete.
I’d be comfy though. And I’d packed an inhuman amount of goodies, so I could eat and drink on route and feel fresh-as-a-daisy by the time I arrived (hopefully before the Stig) in Cannes.
I’d just begun my long-distance, love-hate affair with the oh-so comically-named Swift when the Stig’s Hayabusa shot past me like I’d hit reverse.
I stamped on the accelerator and pushed until my toes went numb. My winning chances were falling faster than house prices.
The car’s practical but it’s slow. From 0-62mph, the bike is almost FOUR TIMES quicker than the car’s 11secs.
The Swift shelters you, it has a boot and air-con. But air-con saps power faster than hair clippers on Sampson. I cracked open a window and 300 miles later the car’s tank was on reserve.
I needed a pit stop too. I pulled into a garage and spotted the bulky ’Busa. A ray of hyper-hope!
But it wasn’t to be - 125 miles later I was desperate to stop again. My tank’s obviously smaller than the Stig’s and the luxury of drinking water on route had its downside. I finally arrived in Cannes ten hours later.
Our consumption figures were equal. In that way, so were our vehicles.
But the Stig had fun slicing through traffic while I trudged along in a metal box. Plus, he’d beaten me by nine minutes.
Nine minutes! If only I’d had a catheter . . .
I’D lost the coin toss. Bright sunshine, 772 miles ahead of me and I’m in a CAR.
Stuck behind a bung of caravans. Great. “Car versus bike†stories usually compare a mega-expensive car with a regular road bike. But what if you use the same price bracket and engine size for both vehicles? We did.
Suzuki’s Swift car has a 1.3litre engine, 92.4bhp and 116lb.ft of torque for £8,260. Their Hayabusa bike is £739 more expensive. Its 1,340cc engine has a similar amount of torque but 102bhp more.
So I challenged Biker’s own Stig to a sprint from Belgium to the south of France.
My weapon of choice went with the coin toss but I stocked up with loads of goodies for my minimal-stop strategy.
The Stig leathered up and fired the ‘Busa into action while I loaded my little strawberry coloured car. But it’s as fruity as a slab of concrete.
I’d be comfy though. And I’d packed an inhuman amount of goodies, so I could eat and drink on route and feel fresh-as-a-daisy by the time I arrived (hopefully before the Stig) in Cannes.
I’d just begun my long-distance, love-hate affair with the oh-so comically-named Swift when the Stig’s Hayabusa shot past me like I’d hit reverse.
I stamped on the accelerator and pushed until my toes went numb. My winning chances were falling faster than house prices.
The car’s practical but it’s slow. From 0-62mph, the bike is almost FOUR TIMES quicker than the car’s 11secs.
The Swift shelters you, it has a boot and air-con. But air-con saps power faster than hair clippers on Sampson. I cracked open a window and 300 miles later the car’s tank was on reserve.
I needed a pit stop too. I pulled into a garage and spotted the bulky ’Busa. A ray of hyper-hope!
But it wasn’t to be - 125 miles later I was desperate to stop again. My tank’s obviously smaller than the Stig’s and the luxury of drinking water on route had its downside. I finally arrived in Cannes ten hours later.
Our consumption figures were equal. In that way, so were our vehicles.
But the Stig had fun slicing through traffic while I trudged along in a metal box. Plus, he’d beaten me by nine minutes.
Nine minutes! If only I’d had a catheter . . .
ooops better cover that back up..
: My kind of woman. :6
