When he’s not fixing lorries, pushing limits is what Guy Martin does best. Now determined to become the world’s fastest person on a conventional motorcycle, what is it that motivates him to put his life at risk? Morris Lubricants writer Charlotte Vowden spent some time with him to find out.
Guy Martin is having a brew with his dad.
The nation’s favourite daredevil is about to attempt 300mph on a conventional motorcycle, and he’s got to do it within the distance of a mile, from a standing start. It’s a speed feat that has never been achieved, and some have lost their lives trying, but if all goes to plan, Morris Lubricants ambassador Guy will be back for his next cuppa before the kettle’s had time to boil.
Perhaps it’s already written in the tea leaves, but today, Guy will top out at 282mph. Fast enough to cover 1.12 miles in 16 seconds, but not fast enough. He’ll live to see another day – unlike his signature side burns, which have long since gone – and he’ll keep pushing for the title of world’s fastest person on a motorcycle. Even if it kills him.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that when you are doing something like this, if you’re not willing to die for it, you don’t actually want to be doing it,” says Guy, who’s broken so many bones during his career as a racer and record breaker, that his skeleton is held together with nickel alloy and steel.
A victim of his own fearless obsession with speed, it was in 2015, following a crash at the Ulster Grand Prix that left him in hospital with a broken back (for the second time) broken ribs, a broken hand, and a punctured lung, or, in his own words “completely spannered,” that Guy started plotting his next move. Tired of conventional motorbike racing, he needed a new challenge.
“When I first started racing I loved it that much I’d have died for it. After four or five years, I was doing it because I was competitive, but it wasn’t worth dying for anymore. Even though the [Isle of Man] TT is very extreme, it was still the same circuit and the same routine every year.
“I thought whatever it is I do from then, I’ve got to be willing to die for it. I like trying to break myself, trying to, and it took a few years to find out what ‘it’ was, and this is ‘it.’ I love it, it’s more of a science experiment than it is a riding experiment.”
In 2018, Guy found the motorcycle he was looking for to jumpstart Project 300; a “bog standard” and “bit tatty” Suzuki Hayabusa. Bought from a friend for £5,000, the seven-year-old road bike had 20,000 miles on the clock and on its first ever run achieved a respectable 183.044mph.
Three years later, the Suzuki is unrecognisable, and not just because of its new streamlined gun metal grey livery. Tuned and turbocharged, with an output of over 830bhp, the motorcycle’s pace has gradually crept up. In May 2020, Guy hit a personal best with a recorded speed of 274.76mph and became (unofficially) the fastest person in the UK on a conventional motorcycle. At the tail end of 2020 he clocked 282mph. Seemingly agonisingly close to his target, finding the additional 12mph is easier said than done, but for Guy, discovering the next limiting factor and working out how to overcome it is a satisfying part of the process.
“You need to get to the next hurdle before you can work out a way of getting over it. There are a few little alterations I’m making, and I’ve got a different wheel that’s been made in America to test out. Those things will hopefully contribute to getting 2mph faster, but you never know, it might get me another 10mph faster. I’m just slowly going through the process of evolving everything.”
Considered a challenge too risky to insure for TV purposes, Guy is under no pressure to work to a deadline, other than his own, and of course, to be the first rider to set the speed record. Acutely aware that Project 300 is only one accident away from disaster, and to help prevent personal ruination, he is kitted out with a tailor-made race suit by long-term sponsor Dainese. Modifying a design similar to those worn by Guy at the TT and Valentino Rossi in Moto GP, Guy's suit is made from much thicker leather than he has previously used for racing (weight and flexibility aren’t such an issue) and it doesn't feature knee pads because he won't be going round any corners. However, even with a full working Air Bag System in the aero hump, Guy won’t get on the bike if he doesn’t feel its 100% mechanically sound. Or, if the forecast looks a little sketchy. When you’re travelling in excess of 280mph on two wheels, a gentle breeze or minor fault can have major consequences.
“I’ve been doing stupid things for a long time and I’m still here because I know when the situation is right to push – touch wood,” he says. “I feel quite happy to say no, I’m not ready, I won’t get on the bike. What’s the point of wasting time, fuel and risking the chance of ending myself when the conditions aren’t perfect?”
"The only pressure I feel is when I’m at the start of a run, that couple of seconds before I set off, and that’s because I don’t know what’s going to happen. There will be a load of prototype things on the bike that I’m trying out that I don’t know how they’re going to do. No one knows, because no one has ever done it.”
With Project 300’s success reliant on such extreme, untested and innovative variables, Guy’s decision to run the Hayabusa on Morris Lubricants products is the ultimate seal of approval. “I want to put a proven oil in so I’m using Morris Lubricants racing oil for Project 300. I wouldn’t want to risk putting something in that I didn’t know if it would be the thing to let it down,” he says. “I’ve always used Morris in the trucks, but when I saw the level of detail and quality control that goes into it during a visit to the lab in Shrewsbury, I thought I’m going to try that stuff in me motorbikes. I’ve seen how they prepare the oil, the detail they go to and I thought, oh well I’ll try it in my bike. I’ve been running it ever since”
Not one for a lie-in, Guy gets up at 4.30am every day to thrash out two hours on his push bike. A habit that he says is vital for his “mental sanity” but not so easy to maintain after a high-speed record attempt. The adrenaline – which triggers an increase in heart rate – keeps him awake for days, and the faster he goes, the worse it gets.
“I can’t really put into words what it’s like. The only way I can explain it is I can’t sleep for two days when I’ve been fast on that bike. 250mph is all right, but when I’ve been like 260mph or 280mph, I can’t sleep for two days. For two days, I’m wired,” he says.
“The problem is when I’ve done 280, I need to go faster. I want to be like that again. Even though I’m knackered, I want to chase that, I can’t wait. It’s only 16 seconds, the whole thing is only 16 seconds. It is just gritting your teeth and trying to manhandle this monster down a mile track. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. It’s just madness, it’s a wrestling match in every area, physically, mentally, everything.”
Unsentimental about acquiring the title of the world’s fastest person on a motorcycle, or holding on to the Project 300 bike afterwards (Guy considers it a tool to do a job and when that job is done, he’ll park it up, sell it and use the money to fund the next project) the third generation lorry mechanic isn’t incapable of a little heartfelt contemplation. When asked how he’d like to go down in the history books – an uncomfortable question for a man who hates “having smoke blown up my arse” – Guy responds with: “that man’s a doer.”
He adds: “If I die trying to do 300, and they say ‘oh he’s a trier’, well, it doesn’t sound the same. If someone said, that man’s a doer, yeah, that’s all right. When I’m saying someone’s a doer, bloody hell, that’s saved for special occasions only. It means they get on, they do it and they do it proper.”
When the time comes for Guy’s next Project 300 attempt he’ll send his mum a text message to find out if his dad, chief tea maker and tyre warmer, is free.
“We’ve got a routine, we know what we are doing. He loves it, he loves my passion for it. We’ll jump in the van, we’ll drive down the runway, get everything in place, have a cup of tea, I’ll get me wind vane out, have a look, say ‘yeah the weather is all right’, and we’ll have a go. Just me, me dad, the computer, the bike and the data. That’s it.”
Guy Martin recently spoke all about racing, his career and his future ambitions along with fellow ambassadors Lydia Walmsley and Dave Jenkins. You can view the full-length episodes here.