Towards the end of last season, when Marco Nicotari, technical director of the Alto Evolution Honda world superbike team, suggested that I should come and test their bike I was enthusiastic. I also honestly didn't believe that it would ever happen - not through any lack of motivation by the team, simply because the logistics were going to be too much. Stepping off the plane in Rome with my leathers and boots in one bag and my helmet and gloves in another I still half expected it all to end in apologies and "maybe some other time."

Which probably goes some way towards explaining why, on a sunny but windy Friday afternoon, I was feeling just slightly nervous. OK, so that's a bit of an understatement. I was actually marginally short of being full-on scared. Because, right up until now, I hadn't really believed this was going to happen. And now the guys were warming up a bike for me to take out on an officially sanctioned private test.

Of course, there were a few other reasons why I might have been just a touch nervous as well. Earlier on I'd sat down with Marco and we'd talked about some of the details of the bike, things that I really needed to know. And I'd discovered that it had a race pattern gearshift - that's one up and five down rather than the rather more common one down and five up - which couldn't be readily changed. I'd discovered that, on the way to getting two hundred and twenty horsepower from the engine, a chunk of the legendary Fireblade usability had been sacrificed. In Marco's words "The power is very aggressive. Everywhere. And the throttle is very harsh - easy to spin the back or wheelie. It revs to 14,500 but from about 7,000 it makes enough power to launch you in the air." I'm quoting directly here. Oh, and he also reminded me that they were taking this very bike to Qatar for the first race. And they were leaving on Monday. So throwing it down the track would be really, really bad. Not just for the pain, but for the team as well.

Plus I'd dislocated my knee on Monday night and was distinctly bloody sore, as well as having restricted movement. Ideal conditions for riding a bike with roughly twice the power of my last race bike. Oh, and about three quarters of the weight, too.

Let's take a step back for a moment, in time-honoured tradition, to look at the team, the bike and the story so far. Last year, you may remember, things weren't as plain sailing as they might otherwise have been. Personnel, financial, legal and technical problems conspired to rob the hard working team of the glory they richly deserved. 2008, with a fair few new faces and a brace of keen, talented and well supported riders, is already looking good. Supply delays mean that the first two races will be run on last year's bikes, albeit heavily tweaked, with the new 2008 machines appearing at Valencia. And the big news is that the team won't be having to make do with third party systems that they've had to develop and refine themselves. Shuhei Aoyama in particular is a Honda rider, and his presence in the team means that the electronics and lots of other parts will be arriving with HRC stamped on them. And where the might of Honda Racing Corporation is seen, success can never be far away.

Thursday was a bit of an odd day for everyone. Steve the second photographer and I went out and acquainted ourselves with the track and good locations. The sun shone but it was windy as anything. No matter, though, as most of the work was done in the pit boxes and very few laps were ridden. Friday morning looked the same, with brilliant sunshine tempered by a distinctly chilly breeze. The guys were both out giving it some, running full race distance more than once to see how things would work on the day. Again, we got to take some more pictures until lunchtime, when Marco called me over to tell me to be in the box, ready to ride, at 1530. I'm going to get ten to fifteen laps. "After fifteen laps," says Marco "you will be destroyed. Totally exhausted. So I think maybe we do not so many."

The toilet became a strangely attractive place for a while as I gathered my thoughts, tied up a couple of personal loose ends and then went to get changed. Somehow all I could think of were some of the less flattering comments made last year when I asked a former rider about the bike, and Marco's earlier assertion that it was, basically, an animal. I was to take Shuhei's number two bike out, while he would lead the way round to help me learn the track and to keep me out of trouble. He asked if I'd ridden a superbike before, and of course I said yes. Because I have. He then asked how long ago. Which was funny. At least, his reaction was funny when I told him it was twenty two years ago. Longer than he's been alive, then. He looked a little surprised before regaining his composure and very solemnly suggesting we go slowly.

I'd not sat on the bike yet, and the guys needed to see if it would fit me. So with the engine running to get it warmed up, they invited me to jump on. No problem, on I get and lift my feet onto the pegs. Shuhei is not a very big guy. Understatement, Shuhei is tiny. To keep him in the seat, a large block of foam is attached to the bodywork behind him. As a result, even at my modest size, my crotch is jammed against the back of the tank and I can't move around at all. It's easy enough to change the pad, so that's no problem. No, the problem is that as soon as I put my left foot on the peg I knocked the bike into gear. With tyrewarmers still attached. The gearchange is not only back to front, it's also hair-trigger sensitive.

Despite Marco's assurances that everyone does it and not to worry, I feel a fool. I'm also now genuinely scared - it's a bad start and it's thrown my concentration out. I feel guilty as hell for breaking a tyrewamer and slightly sick. Shuhei is looking as worried as me.

Thirty seconds later a new tyrewarmer is on, the bodywork has been replaced and I'm trying it for size again. Interestingly, this time the engine isn't running. I fit as though the bike is made for me. Maybe it'll be OK after all. Earplugs in, helmet and gloves on and it's time to go. They do say that everything stops when the flag drops, and there's always been an element of truth in that, from my point of view at least. Certainly nerves have been replaced by total concentration as I pull in the clutch (the bike's already in first) and hit the starter. It turns over slowly and then bursts into life. No time to savour this, though, as Shuhei has already left the box and is headed down the pitlane. I pull away behind him, changing into second as soon as my foot touches the peg. Gosh that gearchange is sensitive. Gonna have to watch that. Leaving the pitlane and accelerating onto the straight, I'm amazed to find that the engine actually is quite tractable, though obviously immensely strong as well. There's a left hand kink that you carry on accelerating through followed by a right which, at this speed, is nothing at all but I could see might be interesting when going faster. Leaving that right hander I'm struck by how well the bike handles and any vestiges of fear I had is gone in a flash, replaced by a massive faith in how well set-up, how forgiving and how nice this Fireblade is. Exiting the long, double apex, slightly banked right hander at the bottom of the circuit, Shuhei pulls the biggest, longest most effortless wheelie ever. I don't, but I do get a decent handful of throttle though I'm short shifting everywhere as the ultra sensitive gearchange keeps catching me out. The long back straight is actually really very short and the corner at the end is quite sharp. No problem, as the brakes are astonishing and I easily lose more than enough speed to wobble around carefully. The tight infield section is a bit of a challenge as plenty of better riders than I have fallen off there, but a bit of circumspection and we get through without a problem. Shuhei is looking back over his shoulder to make sure I'm still there, and happily I am. End of the first lap and he gets a bit more of a move on. Taking a handful down the main straight, the acceleration is impressive, perhaps even brutal, but nowhere near as ferocious as I was expecting. I'm probably doing twice the speed of the first lap through the right kink, and yes, it is indeed a corner now. But the bike is so composed that I don't even think about braking or even rolling off. So yes, there's a lot more to go. By the end of the session I'm backing off here as I'm probably going about half as fast again. Three laps in and I'm starting to get the hang of it, I think. I'm really pushing it into the bottom right hander, which I've decided is My Favourite Bend, and I'm getting on the power harder and earlier each time I exit. I'm right behind Shuhei and pushing him to go faster. Am I Hell. I come out of the corner as hard as I dare. He looks back over his shoulder and, while, in my mind's eye, I'm wringing the bike's neck and giving him a run for his money, he stands on the pegs and wheelies the entire length of the straight. I do manage to keep up with him but I'm still changing gear way too early as my paranoia about changing down instead of up makes me move my foot into place early and the hair trigger shifter does the rest. I have hit full throttle and managed to keep it pinned, but only once have I seen the shift light come on. I can most certainly report, though, that while the bike is stupidly fast from around halfway up the rev range, hang on for a bit longer and it all gets very exciting indeed. Savage, I think, is an appropriate word to use.

At the end of the back straight there is a long, constant radius right hander. I finally manage to brake late enough to make it interesting, and drag the front brake into the corner a little. The bike feels as though it perks up in a "about time too" sort of way, and the handling goes up from wonderful to sublime. No matter how hard I push, how aggressive I am with it, nothing touches down, nothing squirms or objects and nothing is hard work. I think I'm going well but I don't even touch my knee down until a couple of laps from the end, though my toe sliders are getting a pounding. The infield section is getting faster and my confidence is getting bigger. The main problem I have now is containing my grin inside my helmet.

The brakes are a source of wonder to me, being ridiculously, impossibly powerful yet remaining progressive and sensitive. Using more than two fingers on the front lever would, I'm sure, result in my being catapulted from the saddle before suffering the ignominy of being run over by my own bike. But the gearshift is still causing me trouble as, try as I might, I can't get my foot ready to change without brushing the lever. At which point it changes. Exiting the final corner onto the main straight, Shuhei does his quick look back and wheelie routine. I'm ready for him, and pin the throttle but hit the gearchange early again. Blast. I catch him at the bottom of the track and we carry on. He's clearly under orders to keep the pace sensible, and that's almost certainly a Good Thing. I've been asked to stay behind him, and who am I to go against that? I reckon that I probably could have gone quicker if he'd done so as well, but as it is after a dozen laps the pit board comes out saying Simon - BOX and that was it for the session.

Marco was right. After the initial few minutes of gabbling like a schoolboy who's had too much cheap orange squash, I feel this enormous wave of fatigue hit me. I am, quite simply, shattered. But I've achieved what I needed to do. I can honestly say that the Alto Evolution Fireblade is the most complete, the most enjoyable, the most developed motorcycle I have ever ridden. And I include the race bikes I used to ride in that. It is extraordinarily capable, usable and satisfying, and would make a truly amazing trackday bike. I've ridden it to the best of my abilities on the day. Yes, I think I could have got quicker and given time and a bit of adjustment to suit my needs I could have gone a lot quicker. But nothing got broken or scuffed up, and everyone was happy.

Especially me...

SB

PS The bike I rode will be for sale around Easter. Expect to spend in the region of 30,000 Euros to get a fantastic motorbike with spares. Sadly you need to supply your own talent.