Yamaha TZR 125R Belgarda

ANYONE CAN BE A HERO on the new TZR125R - even if the last time you scraped your knee was when you walked into the oven door. The sharpest handling since Edward Scissor hands, the grip of Arnold Schwarzenegger and yet barely enough power to crush a grape adds up to a cocktail that could make anyone look cool.

Yamaha's new entry into the teeny-racer class has the lot. But then, as based on the TZR250R (see BIKE December '91), it was almost bound to have. That V-twin never made it to the UK except by grey import, the reason being, according to Yamaha's UK importers, that it's high-tech spec would price it too far beyond RGVs. The difference here, Mitsui says, is that, though still not cheap, the size of the 125 market means the TZR earns its place.

As 'only' a 125, it's the TZR's race-spec chassis that you're getting for your money. Lacking only the 250's banana swing-arm, the TZR has a trellis that wouldn't look out of place in a GP paddock: aluminium Deltabox twin spar frame; braced, box-section ally swing-arm; 39mm upside-down forks; a huge semi-floating front disc gripped by a four-pot caliper; lightweight, 17in three-spoke wheels and lots of fat rubber - a 110/70 at the front with a 140/70 at the rear.

Add to that the slinkiest plastic clothes since Whitney Houston squeezed into her PVC bustier and you've got a bike that is every inch a mini YZF: just as pure, just as beautiful from every angle and just as much the no-compromise sports bike. Get aboard and you ARE Wayne Rainey, the billowing two-stroke hides the Donington grandstands, the traffic lights outside the chippy are the start lights at the British GP. You feel ten feet tall.

Well, at least the last bit's right. This is one seriously tiny motorcycle. Like the racers from which it draws inspiration, the TZR is skinny, short and small. At standstill, your feet are flat, your knees bent. On the move you have to coil yourself up, wrap yourself around the narrow tank and keep elbows and head tucked in. (Knees, of course, stay out).

Starting, despite the electric boot, can be a pain. From cold, unless you keep the throttle absolutely closed, it all-too-easily bogs and floods. And even after, it's caught it's a case of 'leaving-well-alone' for a couple of minutes.

But once warm, the TZR thrives on revs like only a full-sports 125 will. Derived from the proven DT125, the TZR's liquid-cooled, reed-valve single features a new ceramic composite-lined cylinder for improved cooling; a bigger, 28mm carb fed through straighter inlet tracts; revised porting and a larger airbox. A flat-topped, alu-mite-coated piston aids combustion, there's a new YPVS power-valve, while cooling and lubrication are helped via a huge new radiator and high-efficiency oil pump.

Waste of space

All of which, of course, is a total waste of space in a 12bhp learner bike, so thank gawd the TZR isn't. Yes, the real revelation is that this is the first Japanese sports 125 to join the Cagiva Mitos and Aprilia Sport-Pros of this world by being easily and officially derestrictable, free of charge by your dealer on presentation of your full licence. In fact, Suzuki is also due to join the fun by making its RG125 available in full-power form too.

As we went to press, no figures were available as to the Yam's derestricted output. But 30bhp at 11000rpm won't be too wide of the mark. The vast majority of those horses live up high. The tall first gear makes fistfuls of revs, frantic clutch-slipping and rather pathetic getaways unavoidable, and the motor only starts to produce usable go from 7000rpm. But point it between 10,250 and 11,500 (the redline's at 12,000rpm) and you'll find what the TZR is all about. And that's being tucked in tighter than a hospital bed, focussing on the horizon and wondering when you can next play at being Wayne on the brakes. You'll be breathless, you'll giggle and you'll enter an utterly brilliant yet bonkers 60mph world of your own.

And that is the essence of bikes such as this. With barely l00mph available, the TZR might not be quite as quick as the Mito or Sport-Pro, but so what? Instead, like both Italians, the TZR, at 70-legal-mph, urges you to play Wayne Rainey on the straights yet let you get away with being Wayne Slob round bends. At 121kg dry, it's so light, sharp and flickable that it is to day-to-day bikes what go-karts are to Vauxhall Cavaliers. Despite very average Dunlop tyres (Mitos wear Hi-Sports, damn...) it tracks round corners like some sort of demented radio-controlled car. The front forks and brake are superb. The over-worked gearbox is a joy and the riding position and attitude is all about 'getting dahn and getting crazy'. And all at a thoroughly sensible 60-odd mph.

Even the 35-year-old office, Harley rider was aching for a blast once he discovered the TZR was derestricted. And you can't ask for a better recommendation than that. It's certainly up there with the Italians. The Mito boasts a slightly better spec' (Hi-Sports, Brembos etc) and a touch more top-end. Yet the TZR counters with beautiful styling, stunning handling that is only barely tested by the tyres, and a robust togetherness that always seems lacking in anything Italian.

But what the TZR really offers is an alternative. At £3499 the TZR is not cheap. It's also small, silly and strange. But it's also big, big fun. And in an age when you've either got to be Wayne Rainey or on a death wish to test the real limits of bigger sports bikes, it's nice to not test anything at all by thrashing and revelling in a bike such as this. D