Nor is the man who put his name to this beast. Lord Thomas Alexander. Fermor-Hesketh, an eccentric aristocrat with a passion for things fast and mechanical, ploughed his hefty inheritance into designing and building the V1000 in the early Eighties. A more British venture you’d be hard pushed to find.

Hesketh, and the press, built the 511000 up as the bike that would save the British motorcycle industry. Sadly it was destined to fail.

David rocks the Hesketh off its main stand, turns both fuel taps to on (it uses one for each cylinder), feeds in a touch of choke and fires the 992cc V-twin into life. Oh, what a sound. The flat rhythmic booms from the Hesketh’s pipes sound like two Brit singles competing for attention. It’s an extraordinary exhaust note and quite unlike an Italian V-twin.

As I lean forward to the bars, the seat’s so wide it splays my legs, losing me two inches in height, so reaching the floor is harder than it would normally be. For anyone smaller it’d be a struggle.

One advantage for someone 6ft-plus is long- distance comfort. Once settled in, I feel as though I could sit there all day. Some owners do, covering huge mileages in one hit. That’s the Hesketh’s true

forte. It’s a grand tourer; the two-wheeled equivalent of a Jag, without the walnut dash and leather trim. When riding a Hesketh, planning ahead is essential. Its no good tramping along in the hope that you’ll be able to react to bends, roundabouts and other obstacles in your path. This is not a bike that executes split-second decisions.

So I make it my mission to seek out its favored territory: smooth, winding A-roads. It’s not long before we find our quarry. Time to stretch the V1000’s legs.

I steal a glance at the speedometer. We’re doing 80mph — very comfortably it must be said — at 4200rpm. As I wind on the throttle, in top, the speedo flashes its way past a ton.

Given enough road she might show 120mph, but I don’t want to rely on the Brembo brakes. They lack power and feel and are simply not up to stopping a bike of this size. New pads, lines and fluid would improve things.

One thing that doesn’t need improving is the ride quality. It’s excellent. Top quality Marzocchi suspension shields the rider from jolts and shakes that might otherwise be brought on by bumps and undulations in the road. Stability, too, is superb.

Away from the fluid rhythm of the A-road the Hesketh requires more input. For every mile of road, we’re faced with at least three bends. The bike’s 19in front wheel and lengthy wheelbase accentuate the heavy steering. And under steer is my unwelcome companion as I exit every corner. The bike’s out of its comfort zone and it’s letting me know.

When the V1000 was launched its notch gearbox was criticized, but as I snick another ratio on David’s bike I wonder what all the fuss was about. Five hours in and I haven’t missed a gear.

Heskeths have long been misunderstood. Sure they had their foibles when launched, but a fully- sorted example, like this, is a different proposition altogether. It doesn’t burn any oil, leak any fluid or crunch any gears. And it’s a pleasure to ride.

Hesketh’s intention was to build a high quality British bike. This sorted example at last lives up to that ideal. And that, given the marque’s troubled past, is a very big deal indeed.

What it is:

Sports version of Yamaha’s shaft-driven XS1100 tourer, with svelte all-black looks, revised frame geometry, better suspension, and dinky cockpit fairing. Very comfy, very fast, very heavy indeed.

Others in its family tree:

XS750/850 triples. The XS1100 was the guinea pig for Yamaha’s turbo development prior to the technology making it onto the rather limp XJ650T.

It’s good because:

Its shaft driven, the engine’s as tough as old boots, and if you want to tour the stock 1100’s larger tank bolts straight on.

It’s bad because:

The handling really isn’t up to the job. And there’s no chrome to polish.

Other alternatives:

Suzuki GS1000/1100G or Kawasaki Z1000G if you want shaft drive, Kawasaki GPz1100B2 if you prefer chain.