Road test of KawasakiNINJA H2 2016 TOP GUN 2

i've never been so slapped in the face. With the engine still warm, the turbine just finishing its whistle, and a fine smell of brake pads wafting through the air, I try to calm my senses. A certain stiffness in my right hand that refuses to leave the handle, as if the shot had been too intense, I ask myself, "But how am I going to describe something like this...? ?!?"

i take a moment, forgetting analysis, references, criticism and time. For the trap was so beautiful that I didn't see it coming, and I remain locked in; not wanting to get out, in fact. My hand runs smoothly over its sharp curves, glides nonchalantly over the folding seat, catches on an embossed monogram: NINJA H2.
The name rings a bell in every motorcyclist's mind. And with good reason. The new-generation Kawasaki H2 takes up the mantle of the charismatic 750 Mach IIIs of the 70s. And if the ancestor scared the bejesus out of the brave back then, the powerful offspring pushes the cursor into another dimension.

let's stop beating about the bush. There's certainly a lot to say about the H2, but I have to share with you this exceptional sensation aboard this.... Missile? Fighter plane? Coconut rail? All three.
It all became clear as we exited turn 5. Slight wiggle, stalling on the trajectory, a gear dropped before the curve to recover some sauce, pilot and machine catch a glimpse of the end of the straight. Everything's looking good, with plenty of acceleration in store.
TOTAL ERROR: the H2 tried to warn me but, too impatient to play, I failed to take into account some fundamental parameters on this mo... bomb. The rev counter needle is above 8000 rpm; two small symbols are displayed below the dashboard "boost". Too late, I turned the handle.
PAAOOUUUMMMM!!! Did it explode? No, but it felt like it. Instantly, the H2 pounced like a hysterical wildcat. There was no pause, no warning, and the power surged like a fury. Clinging to the half handlebars, I realize that my posterior is embedded in the rear backrest structure, and that without it, half my anatomy would have toppled over the rear wheel. What fury! The power is enormous, and bursts from the bowels of the beast with unknown vigor. Like a hypersport? No, louder and sooner. When the compressor blows, it awakens a tornado in the 1000 Ninja H2. It overflows everywhere, dragging the crew into a dizzying wave. It goes wild, it spins, it belches, it lives, it detonates. A total deflagration of sensations, where all reference points go haywire as a flood of pleasure surges through the nerve centers. The H2 has just bitten, and there's no turning back.
Once the first two seconds of boost have passed, but neither cashed in nor psychologically realized, it's time to regroup.
No time to grab the clutch. Fortunately, the shifter is there and the gears shift at the speed of sound. And so does the Kawa. Everything happens very quickly, too quickly. The straight line is swallowed in two jerky breaths, admitting to a totally unreasonable speed.
No time to think. The next bend arrives and we have to decide: should we take it cooler to regain our composure? Or turn on the afterburner and think you're on a rafale ejected from the catapult of an aircraft carrier?

enthusiasts of big track bikes, the majority of which reach and surpass the 200-plus mark today, might think that this H2 is nothing special compared to a ZX-10R or R1. These highly accomplished sports bikes and the H2 deliver the same power. But make no mistake. The compressor changes everything. On a latest-generation hypersport, the rider is sitting on a powder keg. With the H2, you're IN the barrel, itself ready to explode at any moment. Magical, exhilarating, almost nerve-wracking, distributing a feeling of awe and admiration. More than on any other motorcycle, this old precept should be engraved on the fork crown:"Think carefully before accelerating! Turning the H2's throttle is like flipping the switch on the most sensational big 8: a violent plunge into a mix of emotions that blows up in your face and guts, without you really knowing how to manage them... A physico-mechanical maelstrom where all five senses are in turmoil; but when it all stops, all you want to do is run back to the queue to take another ride.

we'll come back later to the extraordinary power of this Kawasaki 1000 H2. Especially as it would take a lot of superlatives to describe it truly. For now, let's conclude with an Ariane 5 take-off in the back of our minds.
So, yes, we're in the presence of a sensational engine. But this combination of metal, passion, technology and fury isn't just a machine for slaughtering arms and tires. It's also a charismatic demonstration of Kawasaki's technical capabilities. With its broad forehead, imposing face and clear-cut design, it captures all those who pass close to it. No half-measures: you either love it or you don't. But no one remains indifferent to her. Neophytes are curious. Enthusiasts can't contain their admiration. I've even seen a train driver get off his locomotive to take a photo of it, as if the H2 were a celestial apparition; or a farmer in a remote field interrupt his toil to come and ask me,"How's that H2?" Surreal!
Sometimes glittery black, sometimes chrome, depending on the light, the paintwork maintains the feeling of exception. It's a shame Kawasaki didn't carry over the green frame from the 2015 model year. The beast loses in exuberance what it gains in (relative!) discretion. Here, only the fork tube caps are anodized in the official Kawa color. This green is also found on the turbine on the right-hand side of the machine, encircling two words that sound like a warning: Supercharged.

another exceptional feature is that the H2 is the only Kawasaki equipped with a single-sided swingarm. This houses a superb star-shaped rim. Admiring it is either compulsory or indispensable. Except that the gigantic exhaust completely overshadows this admirable appendage! Couldn't it have been placed on the other side? Or a more tapered one? Or hide the exhaust pipes under the seat? Because, frankly, it's a singular mess.
And then... No, there's no need to go back over the rear signal bracket, which just deserves a swipe with a handsaw and the garbage can.

the Kawasaki H2 likes to indulge in everyday pleasures like adrenalin, endless straightaways, getting out of control, teleportation or provoking the TGV. Not cool to tease a machine that doesn't stand a chance....
The picture isn't as rosy as the big engine that would have us believe. While we can't criticize its mechanics, there are some truths that need to be told. Right up front. That way, you'll be in for a pleasant surprise when the machine hits German roads.

h2 and real life

trials. That's the lot in life, and the daily life of every good biker. Those who love or hate the grip of winter, the bite of the cold, the delicate joy of a downpour that turns boots into a swimming pool, the steam that escapes from helmets and jackets when the thermometer exceeds 30°... An H2 doesn't seem ready to share these kinds of pleasures. But let's take it for a day out in the life of an urbanite. After all, a two-wheeler is a two-wheeler, wherever it may be.
Well, no!
We'll spare her the Stark motto, winter is coming, to appreciate the lightness of summer. That morning, a breath after waking up, dawn timidly peeks out from behind the mountain. Jacket, helmet and all, I'm ready for a short ride to work. I adjust my gear before setting off, both feet perfectly flat on the ground. The key slides into the ignition. A click to the right, and the cockpit comes to life. A circular array of lights saturates the moment, stealing the show from the rev counter needle. During this long blink of the eye, we become aware of the host of assistances and indicators hidden in this seemingly minimalist dashboard. A flick of the thumb to bring the engine to life and off we go, taking off on a trickle of gas. Simple gestures, as with any other machine. The H2 could fool its world. Fresh air slips around the neck. The H2 does a pretty good job of protecting the legs and lower torso. No surprises, though. As soon as the pace picks up, you're in for a real treat. Unless you hide behind the little bubble, in a speed-seeking position. A recurrent position on the track, less so on the road.
Alone in the morning, with a pasty mouth and the prospect of a boring morning's work, you appreciate the exceptional smoothness of the controls. The brake and clutch master cylinders are a delight to use. Easy to use, requiring little lever effort, with a delightful feel, these Brembo components deserve nothing but praise. And what's more, they're beautiful. The quality of the parts and the smoky-transparent appearance of the jars convey a notable impression of quality.
Just enough time to greet a stray rabbit, pass max the farmer, and the engine is hot. Do not accelerate, do not access..... I would have been reasonable for 5 minutes. But how can you resist?! All it takes is a flicker of enthusiasm for the H2 to turn any journey into a Tourist Trophy. Once the mechanics start to express themselves, the rider has no choice but to live the thrill with it. Hard drugs, driven by that needle that gradually lights up red numbers. And a muscle, a strength. Every time, every time you rev it up, it's like a truck forgot to brake and literally pushes you forward, far forward. The H2 doesn't leave you in peace when decelerating. Every time the revs drop, the decompression valve sends out a high-pitched'schpwiittzz', accompanied by a jerky shot noise. This compressor is alive. It breathes, it talks to you, and even when the bike falls asleep: once the ignition is switched off, a last long exhaust whistle escapes from the turbine...

the morning is over, the sun has set, and the afternoon is all mine. Pushing the vice of the test to take the H2 into corners not really suited to it, it's with a very relative appreciation that Miss compressed discovers the streets, red lights, priorities, speed bumps and other trinkets of the city. Here, as elsewhere, the motorcycle confirms its exceptional status in people's curious or fascinated eyes. In practice, they express the same shortcomings as their sporty brethren. Just unbearable. Wrists broken by a very sporty (but not radical) riding position, you move along at legal speeds calmly and without violence. The engine is supple and docile, and bends to use. On the other hand, it heats up. The rider is not spared by the boiling frame and calorific effluvia. All this in the heat of the city, with good, heat-conserving leather and a suffocating helmet. We're in purgatory. Capital punishment is reserved for the inside of your right thigh, which will end up roasting in the radiance of the bubbling turbine. Taller riders will have to adapt their position to avoid suffering too much from this really unpleasant heat spot, especially if you've swapped leather for good old-fashioned reinforced denim.

add to this the stress of knitting the selector at every stop. A brief aside. The gearbox's construction technique makes for very quick and surprisingly smooth gear changes. Rarely have I experienced a gearbox so pleasant to use. Each gear is engaged with exquisite precision, velocity and ease of use. A delightful gearbox.
But on the other hand, finding neutral is simply horrifying. The selection goes from 1 to 2 or from 2 to 1 without ever wanting to reach neutral. Except with a bit of technique. Here's the trick. You have to pass 2, then give a half-kick with your boot that's dry, fast and supple all at the same time. You start to get the hang of it after about a hundred attempts (and then some...).

with the pressure cooker on, the asphalt's roughness and various bumps don't put too much strain on the arms and lumbar vertebrae. The suspension absorbs shocks, big or small, very well, demonstrating the rigor of the hydraulics. It's not a GT, far from it, but from a sports car, such a mellow simile is surprising.

traffic circles and crosswalks are cute for 10 seconds. Staying in this environment is pointless and pointless. Further on, other lanes will bring more joy. What if we were to discover our mount's willingness to ride on smaller roads? The Col de l'épine is not far away. It's an opportunity to find the kind of spot where you can wander around in total peace and quiet, as was the case not so long ago with the 1200 Bonneville. That says it all.
Because on Savoie's departmental roads, alternating between superb shade, the smell of fir trees, overbearing gravel carpets and tight bends, the H2 is no picnic. When the road surface is decent, the effort of pushing is not even consumed before you have to throw yourself on the brakes. Because of its weight and rigidity, the Kawa is somewhat physical to turn, and shows only moderate enthusiasm in these small corners where twists and turns are legion. All the more so as, when braking a little late, it tends to straighten out and push us outwards. You don't have to go all the way to the top of the pass to feel its disapproval. Preliminary assessment: forget the city. Small roads? Hardly better.
No, let's be realistic. The Kawasaki H2 is indeed a fighter plane, worthy of the legendary SR-71. This bike is only happy in the great outdoors. It's a hybrid of cheetah and golden eagle. A wild beast with its sights set on a large territory, where its immense wings can spread out. The Kawasaki would like to fly; it already has the potential to take off. Its front wheel often does just that, without forcing it.

let's move on to more pleasant roads, with big bikes and high speeds. A rucksack, a credit card and a few miles of freeway. The boredom lurks, and the forearms are not well relieved by the obligatory 130 km/h. We count the kilometers in very basic comfort. What to expect, anyway.
Under other banners, the bust finds the right balance around 170 km/h. A speed zone where the air pressure supports the torso sufficiently to lighten the body's weight on the front; and where the pressure in the airbox is right on the borderline of insanity. Watch out, the H2 is just waiting to attack again.

let's give her a treat. Here's a slip road leading onto a German freeway that's not very busy today. Everything's humming along carefree, ignoring the threat of a small propeller stuck in the casings. The junction is there, placid, ending on a runway... on a long stretch of Autobahn. Let's be courteous and signal our intention to engage, but the blinker is not easy to find. A cute little joystick on the left-hand commodo, but it's too high up and not in line with the thumb.
I take a look at the rear view mirror, which is both stylish, with a spoiler design reminiscent of the H2R's appendages, and offers excellent rear vision. Then drop two gears, enjoy the clear horizon, and weld.

the red needle jumps, the Kawa takes off, the rider hangs on, takes it in, holds back his molars and grits his teeth. All the numbers on the rev counter flash, triggering a reflex in the primary nervous system and resulting in a movement of the boot. The shifter annihilates any break in load, the thrust is continuous, violent, barely taken in before the next gear has to be shifted. In the orbits, it's the vision of the thousand-year-old falcon passing through light speed. A new gear is engaged, the apnoea persists, and the speedometer registers 270 km/h before we've understood a thing. Staggering. The Kawasaki H2 takes you to the frontiers of alienation every time. A breaker of prohibitions, a violator of codes and morals.

tonight, I'm not sleeping. Not for the first time. And I'm not spending the evening with a woman, but with a dream bewitcher. Two luminous fangs and Cyclops lighting; even in the lighting, the H2 beckons. But alas, this missile isn't geoguided like an American Tomahawk launched from a frigate. This is perhaps its only major weakness. Impossible to cruise at speed in the dark of night. The range of the code, very white with bluish effluvia, does not exceed fifty meters. Anticipating a bend is like divination. We therefore drive at very reasonable speeds. Passing under full headlight improves things considerably, but we've often seen better. This feline likes to hunt by day. But riding at night on a well-cleared road with a few precautions is a rare sensation. When the compressor is blowing hard and the ass is pressed into the backrest, you can almost feel the Kawa catching the light it's giving off.

stop again to contemplate it, grasp it, understand why the 'fix' is so strong. And wonder about that annoyance on the left kneecap. Oh yes, the air intake tube for the compressor regularly bumps into the joint. Some things are annoying, but that's a consideration for a conventional motorcycle. Not so here. Fuel consumption? No importance at all, given the pleasure we get from it. And what's 10 liters per 100 on average compared to an even more mind-boggling tire bill? Brake pads are also a budget priority. With its propensity to reach mind-boggling speeds very quickly and a respectable weight of 238 kilos, the H2 eats sintered metal like an ogre. It's not our fault if we overdo the braking, as it's so powerful and perfectly controllable. Such is the feeling that the master cylinder seems connected to the sensory nerves of the hand.

the Kawasaki H2 looks heavy on the data sheet, but in reality it's much less so. The weight distribution belies the figures. Moving it from a standstill is child's play. Dynamically, its weight is only really felt in the sequences. It shifts from one angle to another with agility, but without any real vivacity. Its geometry appears far less radical than that of a pure sports bike or a streetfighter with character. The front end is precise but lacks stability. The suspension should have been made a little stiffer, to give the machine more rigor on the random surfaces we encountered. And the tires weren't the freshest either.
Despite their mileage, they immediately gave us a welcome confidence boost, especially with an engine packed with watts. The Bridgestone RS10s fulfilled their mission very well, ensuring both grip and road feel. And if we ever considered putting them to the test, the KTRC traction control system was always on hand. It can be switched off... except that at no time did I consider doing so. And I'd strongly advise against removing this safeguard.
still on the electronics side, certain functions left us a little disappointed. It's a pity, but I'd like to tell you all about how this Kawa made me feel. The shifter is excellent, so much so that it's hard to do without it once you've tried it. But on a machine like this, it's a shame it doesn't also work on the downhill. After all, the ZX-10R does it well. With the racing kit, of course.

the dashboard is well laid out, fairly classic, attractive to look at, with quick and easy-to-understand information and a well-positioned gear indicator. However, navigating the setting menus is not the easiest of tasks. Highly commendable is the 'Rain' driving mode, which can be accessed directly from the left-hand console by pressing and holding an arrow. An umbrella on the illuminated diadem of the speedometer unit indicates its activation. It's aptly named, as it really calms the engine to cope with tricky conditions. Engine revs are much less lively, and the power delivery is more sedate, softer, less jostling. It's as if the compressor were no longer working.
Surprisingly, Kawasaki has added a touch of humor to its missile. Connected to 200 hp, the digital window informs you of the 4-cylinder's good health, engine and compressor temperatures, consumption, trip, clock, etc... and how not to smile at the sight of an 'Eco' ideogram! Fun on a machine that gobbles up a liter every 10 kilometers.

our test of the Kawasaki 1000 Ninja H2 began by confirming what we had all seen when it was unveiled: this is an exceptional machine, a demonstration from the manufacturer. Then things really got going. It satellites you on every outing, glues your eyes to the back of your skull with every compressor application, and drags you into a world of speed from which you absolutely don't want to escape. But beware, it's also a formidable trap. The machine is safe and precise, with highly efficient and transparent electronic assistance, and its braking is terrific, but it demands a huge dose of composure. Never has a machine given me such a mixture of adrenalin, respect and fear. The price is almost secondary. Or rather, it's far from being the most important.
Yet the question remains: what's it for? It's too heavy and not efficient enough to stand up to a hypersport. A ZX-10R will perform much better on the racetrack, and for less money. Road sports? Too typical, too exclusive, with an engine too insane to be used on the open road. So who's it for? For all those who want to dream with their eyes open. Riding an H2 is a rare, intense moment, stimulating the very depths of your being. Something every biker should experience.

M.B - Photos Sébastien de Malfin