From The Chair (June 2019)

Riding our bikes has to be fun and exciting. After all it gives us a sense of freedom, power, and bonds us to mates who have shared the same experience: an experience you can only get if you’ve ridden a bike; gone to the same places; seen the same things; maybe ridden through rain for an hour for a coffee and cake with mates – just to ride back again afterwards!

However, as well as being in the minority of road users on our bikes, we are the most vulnerable. Compared with cyclists, statistically, bikers are almost three times more likely to die on a motorcycle than a bicycle and almost just as likely to be seriously injured. It all means, regardless of what you ride, having only two wheels when on the road is definitely much more ‘risky’ than having four.

The latest government statistics, which report on 2017, make for sombre reading if you’re a motorcyclist. Not only did casualty rates increase by 7%, but if you’re a male, aged between 17 & 24 and live in London and the South East, (including TVAM’s area) you are statistically the most vulnerable road user in the country1 – by a long way. However, these figures do not make any distinction between moped riders; those riding on a provisional licence; or riders with advanced training and maybe even a test pass to reflect their on-the-road-skills. Yes, members of TVAM still have accidents. Thankfully very, very, few are of the most serious but there are stories of members visiting a nearby hedge or ditch every now and then, appearing later at St Crispin’s bearing the scars of their ‘trips’.

But the question is, does the training we undertake at TVAM make us safer? We believe so. Good training means our observation and planning skills are honed and we can hopefully spot hazards as they arise in the distance. Taking early action, sometimes instinctively, means we can avoid trouble the vast majority of the time without sudden changes of direction or speed.

If the totally unexpected happens and the only alternative is to stop very quickly we’ve practised emergency braking many times (maybe done the Advanced Braking Course) so without thought you go through the three phases of braking; applying the front brake smoothly to push the centre of gravity forward onto the front tyre and then increasing the braking force as the grip increases as the tyre gets squashed into the road, finally feathering the brake as you come to a halt to prevent the fork springs rebounding with force. Only after you’ve stopped do you consider the possibilities had you not reacted quickly in a controlled manner. Grabbing the front brake would have just locked-up the front wheel spilling you onto the road, possibly creating another statistic for the DoT annual report. Not braking hard enough would have similar consequences. When did you last practise an emergency stop?

IAM RoadSmart believes our training makes us safer and are conducting research to quantify it. Neil Grieg the IAM’s Policy and Research Director is leading the work and, later this year, a Motorcycle Evaluation report is due to be published. We’ll share what it says once available.

So this training stuff matters. It means we can enjoy the thrill and excitement of riding progressively whilst managing risk in the knowledge our training gives us the skills to do this well and our bikes are well maintained. To embark on the roads without both of these in place can only be put down to innocence or ignorance, neither of which is a good prospect for your long-term bike insurance premiums.

Have a great summer, have loads of fun and keep safe.

Andy Slater
Chairman

Sammy Miller’s aka “Cake Heaven”

The Sammy Miller Motorcycle Museum is probably “one of the premier bike museums in the country in terms of the quality and provenance of the exhibits.”

I wouldn’t know, I didn’t go in. I was very happy looking at the array of cute animals in the car park, and the birds as you walked into the compound. I was even happier when I turned right and found some of the most amazing cakes I’ve ever seen.

The outside tables were full of half eaten cake; it was a cake graveyard, so upsetting. Being a cake lover, I didn’t understand why there were so much wasted cake. Until I spent 10 minutes choosing my cake, 20 minutes attempting to eat it all, only to fail and put the rest in my tank bag, covered up in a takeout box.

If anyone wants to know what the museum is like, you’re going to have to ask someone else. I honestly have no idea.

Now the important part is down, let me get onto some of the details of the Steve Harris, Sammy Miller B run. We met up at Blackbushe airport, and had a pit stop at Little Nellie’s Diner in Kingsclere to collect a few more. With a total of 15 riders we headed for the New Forest via the twisty route. It was my first time through the New Forest; I didn’t expect to have to stop to allow cows to cross the road.

Anyway, we headed for our lunch stop, The Cliffhanger Café in Christchurch. The food was amazing. I would highly recommend their mussels. The view was stunning and the roads were fantastic.

Once we were fuelled with food we actually headed for the museum, or for me – dessert. The boys and girls got to play with old bikes, whilst I had cake and a nap.

The ride back to Reading had much more pace to it, albeit still stunning roads. The ride was respectful to others abilities and it was a pleasure to ride with everyone. I would definitely go there again –the cake was that good.

Oh, if anyone is wondering what happened to the rest of the cake, it thankfully survived the journey home and was very much enjoyed the next day.

Paula Nash

First published in Slipstream June 2019

Sunshine, Marshmallows & Chocolate*

It seemed like a good idea at the time, volunteering to help man the TVAM stand at the MCN Festival in Peterborough, with free camping thrown in. Kelly and I met up with Cheryl for the ride up to Peterborough, with Kelly agreeing to lead the way, as I can’t navigate to save my life!  After an uneventful ride up, we arrived at the showground, found our spot in the Clubs area and pitched tents.

We were soon joined by Phil, in the car and towing a trailer. The car and trailer turned out to have been previously owned by Dr Who as out came a tent, then another, then a marquee, then a gazebo, then a windbreak, then the TVAM sail flags. These were soon followed by enough camping equipment to support a Scout jamboree (tables, cooker, air mattresses, cool boxes, sleeping bags). Once all this was pitched/ raised/ setup, the Tardis then produced a BMW S1000 XR which Phil had picked up only a few days before. “I have some bits to fit onto this over the weekend,” he said smugly. With everything set up, we retired to the Moose Bar where we were later joined by Tony who had left Reading after work.

On Saturday morning, we set up our stand and waited for the crowds to flock to us, all eager to sign up. That was the idea, anyway. The weather was against us with rain putting off the hordes and we just talked bikes with the people who did stop. Phil decided it was the ideal opportunity to start “fettling”, oil cooler and radiator guards first. After 5 hours, much laughter and p**s taking, he had finally got them fitted – R&G have a lot to answer for!

There were fleets of demonstration bikes from all major manufacturers just waiting to be rid

den. Cheryl went off to test ride a Monster 797 (“totally different to my Hornet, would need more time to get used to”), Kelly rode a Zero electric bike and Tony rode an Indian Chieftain (“very nice ride, light feel into corners, great look, nice sound but very jerky in corners”).

Whilst they were away, Phil decided that he would fit his new levers next. Unfortunately, he didn’t offer them up first and, having fitted the clutch lever, he realised that it wouldn’t clear some of the switches and dials on the bars, so every time he pulled the clutch in, his headlight would flash – back on with the old one! It was about then that I noticed that he was missing a pillion peg and mentioned it to him. He then proceeded to blame either Tony or me and thought we were holding it to ransom**. The banter lasted all weekend and I ended up making one for him out of twigs and Duct tape so he would feel better (see photo). ***

We were joined then by Andy, Ness and Andy’s son, Sam. They went to pitch their tent near ours, only to realise they had left the poles behind! One trip to Argos later, one new tent.

We all took turns to man the stand whilst others went off to visit the various trade stands (clothing, tools, manufacturers, moto jumble, usual show fare) and the club stands (mainly owner clubs, Honda, Ducati, 2-stroke, sidecars, Valkyries, etc) and Cheryl test rode a Honda CB1000R (“loved this bike, definitely one I’d consider in the future”) with Andy and Ness booking test rides for the next day. Phil fitted a fender extender and crash bungs and we all went for some light refreshment then turned in for the night.

On the Sunday, I got up early to book some test rides, but, being an advanced rider, I soon decided that someone else’s brand new bikes and a raging hangover do not mix! We again set up our stand, welcomed by glorious sunshine and bacon sandwiches. There seemed to be more people around. We also met Ross, who was up for the day, and who had just signed up for TVAM’s RideUp scheme. Andy and Ness went out on their rides and Cheryl came back infuriated (apparently the test ride she had booked with Honda had left 10 minutes earlier than scheduled).

During the morning, we all helped each other pack up and, with the show closing, we left about 3pm for the ride home. I got back around three hours later, tired but very contented. I think I can safely sum the weekend up with Tony and Cheryl’s comments: “great company, new friends, laughter and fun,” and I think we are all up for it next year!

*Yes, I know, I didn’t mention the marshmallows and chocolate, but they were in the mix somewhere

**Phil’s BMW dealer has since apologised for leaving the footpeg off and is sending it to him

***BMW have now offered me a job designing the foot pegs for their new range of bikes

PS: Not all of this necessarily happened in the order stated as it’s all a bit of a blur, to tell the truth, but it did all happen at some stage as did a lot more besides! Come and join us at one of our future promotional events.

Ian ”Orc” Christopherson (who may or may not return the footpeg next year)

First published in Slipstream June 2019

3Rs go to the Yorkshire Dales (May 2019)

Say Cheese!  Maybe a little bit of Wensleydale?

 

Fantastic roads & scenery. Perfect amount of stops. The group I was allocated to was brilliant……lovely and thoughtful riders. Pleasure to be riding with them all.

The best days riding I have had in a long time, did not know these roads existed.

We were very lucky to have a group that bonded well, rode responsibly, respecting one another.

Fab roads…..amazing scenery. Plenty of stops. No pressure, very relaxed. Great day ….. considering I get a little anxious on technical roads, I loved it and it has helped my confidence massively.

Excellent routes, well led runs, spectacular scenery and riding challenges.

It was awesome. Challenging but rewarding.

Excellent, a surreal trip around some of the most beautiful and challenging countryside.

This was my first 3Rs trip so I didn’t really know what to expect but I had a fantastic few days and picked up some good advice to improve my riding skills.

As an Observer who doesn’t get to do much social riding I found the trip immensely rewarding and it reignited my love of riding.

Triumph Tiger 800 XRT

It’s safe to say that Triumph and I have had our differences over the years. My 2013 Street Triple R is the only motorcycle I’ve ever bought brand new, and the brand’s response to my textiles scuffing the paint on the tank within a few hundred miles was that it was my own fault for not paying extra for the paint protection.  I paid many hundreds of pounds on maintenance to maintain the official service history during the first two years, and when I began to experience a hot-starting issue as the warranty drew to a close they refused to even investigate until I’d paid another £1,000 for the 24k service, 3,000 miles early. I gave my dealer the finger and did the work myself.

Beyond that, I’ve reviewed a number of Triumph‘s bikes in the years since, with mixed results. Still, time moves on and Triumph has been working as hard upgrading their Tiger 800 as I have upgrading my own V-Strom 650. Strange as it may sound, there are some things you can achieve with an entire engineering department, a couple of factories and hundreds of thousands of pounds that I can’t match with my meagre resources.

What’s more, contrary to the impression I may have given with the likes of my BMW R1250GS review, I’m not a complete technophobe. My disdain for the integrated electronic gadgetry increasingly infesting modern motorcycles is based on my overwhelming impression that they are primarily intended to improve manufacturer profit margins rather than the rider experience. In some cases, they actually seem designed to fix self-inflicted problems. For example, user-selectable engine or throttle modes (too much power), electronically-adjustable suspension (too much weight) and full-colour TFT dashboards (too many of the aforementioned throttle and suspension modes). It’s little wonder that many people are favourably comparing the genuinely old-school Royal Enfield Himalayan with bikes four times the price.

As a result, it was with mixed feelings that I took note of the newly-updated Triumph Tiger 800 at EICMA in 2017. In showrooms last year, it demonstrated that Triumph had spent the eight years since the launch of the original 2010 model nipping and tucking, rather than completely redesigning the bike. Some changes, such as the fashionable new TFT dashboard, I regarded with suspicion. Others, such as the new LED headlights, cruise control and upgraded front brakes were very welcome indeed, and I’ve been meaning to arrange a ride ever since.

 

But which one would I buy, in theory? Like many of their European competitors, you cannot simply walk into a Triumph dealership and select a bike anymore; you also need to choose a trim level and then pick from a list of optional dealer-fit accessories. A lot of glowing reviews from professional journalists fail to mention that the version they enjoyed on the press launch would cost a paying customer thousands and thousands of pounds more than the advertised retail price.

A base-model Tiger 800 XR can technically be bought for £9,200 but this is a price-point model so poorly equiped that even Triumph doesn’t expect anyone to actually buy it. Choosing the XRX version instead adds another £1,500 to the price tag and the XRT you actually want is almost £13k with a set of crash bars fitted. Adding the three-box luggage set means you’ll be riding home with a £14,000-sized dent in your wallet. Given my well-documented history of criticising the likes of BMW and KTM for similarly inflated pricing, why would I even entertain such an expensive motorcycle?

Setting aside the substantial price tag for a moment, we could have a perfect V-Strom replacement on our hands here. Regardless of trim level, you get very similar weight and dimensions as the Suzuki, the same cast 19″ / 17″ wheel combination, good weather protection, and a comfortable, upright riding position. Assuming you ignore the bare-bones XR trim level you get higher-spec Brembo brakes on the front wheel, solving one of my main criticisms of the original bike by dramatically improving braking performance. The suspension is also of higher quality, and Triumph claim to have improved the fuel economy through internal friction reduction and throttle management.

Spend enough money to get the top-of-the-range XRT model and you and your passenger are treated to heated seats, with the rider enjoying heated grips and full LED lighting. Many of the upgrades I made to my own V-Strom 650 (and would make to a new V-Strom 1000) are now standard-fit on the Triumph with other niceties such as cruise control, back-lit switchgear, tyre-pressure monitoring, self-cancelling indicators and traction-control thrown in for good measure. What the Tiger 800 lacks compared to its German, Austrian and Italian rivals is electronically-adjustable suspension, keyless ignition, hill-hold assist, a quick-shifter and an electric screen. For me, at least, that means it offers everything I want, and nothing I don’t.

Of course, if you’re of the 21″ wired-wheel persuasion there’s a mirrored set of trim levels available for you with the XCX and XCA versions. You also get slightly higher bars, a skid plate and taller, softer WP suspension.

Personally, I wouldn’t bother; the bigger wheels are heavier, blunting braking and handling considerably, with the only advantage being greater resistance to damage from high impacts off-road. But let’s be honest, here – if you’re taking a 230kg motorcycle out where that sort of situation is likely, then dented wheels are the least of your worries. Buy a Honda CRF250L instead.

Before I hit the road, I had the Triumph salesman take me through the new full-colour onboard computer – it took nearly twenty minutes. There are four riding modes, each of which can be customised with varying levels of traction control, ABS, several throttle maps and even three different dashboard layouts. While tachometer, speedometer, current gear, air temperature and time of day are ever-present, a small joystick underneath the indicator switch allows you to toggle between two trip meters, each with average and real-time fuel economy and range, coolant temperature and more. Separate buttons switch through the various heat levels for heated grips and seats, riding lights can be switched on and off, and cruise control can be enabled and adjusted in 1mph increments all the way down to 30mph.

I strongly recommend anyone buying one of these to set aside an afternoon with the owner’s manual to learn how to access all the various pieces of information, but it’s certainly true that you could simply hop on and ride the bike as-is. The default Road engine mode, unlike on many bikes, is just fine and the factory suspension settings are well judged across a variety of surfaces, something that can’t be said for many, far more expensive, systems. The brakes are good, if not quite as sharp as a set of four-piston calipers would be, but are nonetheless a far cry from the wooden, squishy mess that most two-piston systems offer.

The touring windshield fitted to the XRT is adjustable by grabbing it with one hand and then pulling it up or down and in the highest position is almost tall enough to push turbulent air right over my helmet. A clever arrangement of winglets, designed to work in conjunction with the mirrors and handguards, means that there is zero buffeting around the sides, suggesting that we finally have a maker who is paying attention to something the aftermarket has been fixing for years.

Throttle response is much improved over the first-generation Tiger 800, the new ride-by-wire system smoothing out the off-idle throttle transition extremely well. Even Sport mode is not as snatchy as the previous cable throttle and there’s noticeably more bite to the power delivery as you climb up the rev range. One downside of a fully electronic throttle manifests itself as a slight dip below 4k, as though the computers are just taking the edge off my inputs in order to satisfy noise and emissions requirements.

A look at a dyno chart reveals something else interesting however: a horizontal line as soon as the output hits the 94 horsepower mark. That is the maximum allowed if you want to be able to restrict a bike for 47 horsepower A2 license holders and the ECU is clearly holding power steady from this point on, even as the revs rise the rest of the way to the redline. It honestly looks like there’s another 5-10 horsepower waiting at the top-end for someone who’s willing to visit their local tuner and have such restrictions removed.

Beyond that, the riding experience is rather unremarkable, which can be taken as a compliment or a criticism, depending on your point of view. A snarling, roaring beast of raw fury and adrenaline the Tiger 800 is not, though there’s significantly more character than there was in previous models. Build quality on modern Triumphs is generally very impressive; fasteners are stainless steel by default and metal finishes are tough and should shrug off a salty winter with aplomb. Painted plastics still scratch like any others so it will be interesting to see how the optional matt blue paint would stand up to daily use.

Fuel economy was mid-50’s on my relatively conservative ride. My father was able to average better than that over two years on his 2012 example and Triumph claims that significant improvements have been made since. Controls are of good quality and satisfying to use, with the possible exception of the indicator switch; the fashionable modern microswitch design means that it barely moves when you press it, much like on modern BMWs. In thick gloves, it might be hard to tell whether you hit it or not. Another odd move is that both heated seats are now adjusted via the handlebars, which means that your pillion will have to tap you on the shoulder if their bum gets cold.

Ergonomics are good, although with my short arms I’d ask my dealer to fit a set of risers to the handlebars. Lower seats are available for the short of leg, although you’d lose the heating option, and all seats have two different height settings that can be switched without tools. For the truly vertically challenged, you can even order a version of the Tiger 800 XRX with lowered suspension, although ground clearance suffers and a centre stand can no longer be fitted. I’d encourage interested parties to try the low seat first – it makes a big difference. With my 30″ inseam I actually found the standard seat in the high position to be perfectly manageable, with the added benefit of reducing the bend in my knees.

Aesthetics? Well, adventure-tourers are never going to be the prettiest of motorcycles; upright riding positions and tall fairings/screens can make for ungainly proportions, although Triumph‘s designers have done their best to build a very angry, angular structure into the front end. The matt blue paint on my tester looked even better in the flesh, and the metallic silver or white, which are the other two options at this trim level, look suitably sparkly in the sunshine.

Behind the tank, things quickly descend into a mess of scaffolding and black plastic, with the seat floating on top as though the designers just sort of gave up half-way through. What’s more, choosing your colour has no effect on any part of the rear half of the motorcycle. Still, I’ve seen worse, and there’s no denying the practicality of having so many bungee points available. I’m sure the Italians would be horrified at the focus of function over form, but I could probably learn to live with it.

At the end of the day, I find myself rather taken by the Triumph Tiger 800 XRT. Sure, it’s expensive – a full £2,000 more than a Suzuki V-Strom 1000, which is a closer match in terms of power, suspension and braking performance. But I have to say, you do get quite a bit for your money – the materials and construction on current Triumphs simply ooze quality.

As for me? Well, I’d have to make a choice. The base-spec XR model almost achieves price parity with Suzuki’s V-Strom 1000, though with its more basic brakes and suspension it can’t quite match it for performance and loses much of the electronic gadgets that would make the Tiger 800 such a nice bike to live with. Where the Suzuki really wins, however, is simplicity and reliability.

The last chinks in the Triumph‘s armour are the running costs. The official maintenance schedule dictates minor services at 6,000 miles, with prices between £300-400 for each visit. At 12,000 miles the checklist for the mechanic is extensive, and includes an extremely time-consuming check of the engine’s valve clearances. Assuming everything is in spec, you can expect a bill of around £800, and it gets far worse if any of those valves actually need adjusting.

I suspect that most Tiger 800 owners cover more than the UK-average 4,000 miles per year, so it’s worth doing some calculations to determine just how expensive things could get for you before signing on the dotted line. At my rate of 25,000 miles per year, I’d be looking at paying my local dealer a hefty £2,400 annually just to maintain the warranty. I’m sure you can see why I tend to do my own servicing these days.

Like my own V-Strom 650, a new V-Strom 1000, or any of the other 800cc road-focused Adventure-Tourers, the Tiger 800 XRT is an effective way of crossing countries quickly. The top speed won’t make headlines, but the focus on rider comfort and compliant suspension matched with a real-world fuel range approaching 250 miles per tank means that the miles just fly by.

Cruise control takes the stress out of the motorway stretches, and the wide bars and light handling make easy work of curvier roads. By focusing on genuine, practical improvements rather than flashy but marketable gimmicks, Triumph have succeeded in turning the previously disappointing Tiger 800 into a motorcycle I can wholeheartedly recommend. I can give no higher praise.

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream June 2019

Triumph to BMW – What was I thinking?

I have been riding Triumph Tigers of various descriptions for 25 years. I have covered many thousands of miles on my various Tigers, and every time I have changed, I have used the opportunity to try other similar bikes and to be happy in my own mind that I was still happy with my choice of ride. I also had a very good relationship with Bulldog Triumph and their chief mechanic, Chris Powers, who has been looking after my Tigers for all that time.

So now I have switched to an R1250GS Adventure. For a start, my last two Tigers were Explorers and they are really nice bikes, and plenty powerful enough, handle well, brakes are ok, and good fun solo, but a bit top heavy with a pillion on board. So I have a new girlfriend who likes riding pillion, therefore my new ride had to be more pillion friendly. I tried the new Tiger 1200 which didn’t feel a great deal different to the older Explorer. Yes it had a fancy digital display, better brakes, semi-active suspension and a reworked version of that lovely triple engine, but it still felt the same.

I then tried the new R1250GS Adventure. That also has a fancy digital display, active suspension, a reworked engine, brilliant brakes etc. etc., but it feels very different to the Tiger. The biggest difference is the weight. Yes, on paper, with a full tank of fuel (30+ litres) it is physically heavier than the Tiger (which is now lighter than the Explorer), but it doesn’t feel it. Not even pushing it around. Riding the BMW, it feels even more balanced, especially with my girlfriend on board.

It also has that wonderful tele lever front suspension, and linked brakes that I really like, and a better mounting for the GPS (the new Tiger has the mount on the handle bars which precludes the use of a tank bag).

So I bought one.

I have now done 1500 miles in all conditions, and do I still think I made the right move?

The BMW is a very comfortable bike to ride, very comfortable for my pillion as well. It is more economical than I was expecting, the suspension is brilliant, and the gearbox is very smooth (much better than the BMW’s of old.  I haven’t felt the need to change too much other than fit a taller screen. The Triumph engine is more exciting and doesn’t shake you from side to side, but the 1250 engine on the GS is more exciting than that on the 1200 – it has those few extra ponies in there.

I am not sure that there is much in it from the rider information. The Triumph display is adjustable, and you can change the display.  It is also getting connectivity like that on the BMW (but hasn’t been released yet), and the Triumph’s illuminated switchgear is neat, and an electric screen which is probably a bit of a gimmick (the BMW’s adjustable screen can be easily controlled on the move, by hand).

The only big downside of the BMW that I can see at the moment is the reduced service intervals (6,000 mile to Triumph’s 20,000) and that the dealer isn’t quite as close Bulldog.

Simon Whatley

First published in Slipstream June 2019

A Different Type of Riding (Part 4: 2019 Yamaha T-Max)

It’s been a little while since I test-rode any new motorcycles as part of my search for a comfortable, relaxing, low-speed, two-up touring bike. I wanted something with a feet-forward riding position, that could carry two in relative comfort while being sufficiently engaging that I wouldn’t mind the slower, more relaxed sort of riding that typifies my family tours. Frustratingly, it seems that motorcycle design has become extremely polarised, with manufacturers pushing their designs into increasingly narrow genres, and finding the right mix of price and features was proving increasingly difficult.

I started by giving scooters a go in the shape of Honda’s new Forza 300. Perfect on paper, the reality was a disappointment, largely due to the forgettable riding experience and unpleasant buffeting at speed. The next obvious contender for riders seeking a feet-in-the-wind stance were cruisers, exemplified in my case by the Harley-Davidson Sport-Glide. There was an awful lot to like – an engaging engine, comfortable ride, and lockable hard luggage, but a starting price of £15,000 proved too bitter a pill for me to swallow.

Other, cheaper cruisers are available, but pillion accommodations on smaller and cheaper models are clearly an afterthought. The attitude of both Harley-Davidson and Indian is that riders intending to bring company along on their adventures should be looking to their respective full-price, full-dress tourer ranges. Triumph is no better; I had high hopes for their new Speedmaster, but the brick-like pillion perch was vetoed by my partner after just a few moments’ seat time.

Yet even as I was forced to give up on cruisers, scooters kept pulling me back. I’d previously dismissed the larger Suzuki Burgman 650 and Yamaha T-Max thanks to their circa £10,000 price tags, but on paper, they really did tick almost every box. The bigger the scooter, the bigger the under-seat storage, with enough legroom to let you really stretch out. Top speeds north of 100mph as well as features such as cruise control, heated seats, and electrically-adjustable screens mean that these scooters begin to look more like half-price tourers rather than oversized city runabouts. Considered thus, the £10,000 asking price starts to look a lot more reasonable.

So, could a maxi-scooter do everything for me that a £15,000 Harley-Davidson Sport-Glide offered, but for several thousand pounds less? I zeroed in on the Yamaha T-Max first, its reputation as the better-handling of the big scooters giving it a better chance of meeting my exacting requirements. Confirming this proved a real challenge; none of the five Yamaha dealers I contacted kept a demonstrator on their fleet, the last finally suggesting I call the brand’s head office to track one down.

So what does your £10,000 buy you compared to, say, a Honda Forza 300? The extra 251cc of displacement doesn’t tell the whole story – it’s an under-square parallel twin rather than a single-cylinder engine, almost doubling the power output to an A2-compliant 45 horsepower. What you can’t tell without stripping away the bodywork is that, unlike smaller scooters, the T-Max’s engine is bolted to the frame, independently of the wheel and swinging arm. This arrangement matches conventional motorcycles, where the larger engines make the idea of mounting the entire powerplant as unsprung weight unpalatable.

Yamaha has pushed the T-Max’s parallel twin up near the front of the bike and the entire powertrain lies completely flat under the floorboards for a kerb-scrapingly-low centre of gravity. A cruiser-style belt handles final-drive duties, and a stout monoshock is tucked up underneath. Front suspension is by way of a pair of upside-down forks with twin radial 4-piston brake calipers hanging off the bottom. And lest you think that Yamaha needed R1-spec stopping power to handle the excessive mass that maxi-scooters are famous for, the advertised wet weight is a mere 216kg – only 16kg more than the R1.

Weight, incidentally, that Yamaha claim is perfectly balanced fore and aft, in sharp contrast to most notoriously rear-heavy scooters. The result of this is that while the T-Max doesn’t handle quite like a traditional motorcycle, it comes incredibly close. The scooter feels light to turn in, holds a line with poise and doesn’t fight back if you need to push harder in decreasing-radius corners. Lean angle is an impressive 50 degrees, which is just as well given that there’s nothing to grip your knees against, so hanging off isn’t really an option. As such, you can take curves with significant speed and confidence.

Driving out of corners is easy too, because the smooth, torquey engine works with its continuously-variable transmission, rather than seeming to be endlessly straining against it. Certainly, when pulling away from a stop or requesting a sudden burst of extra speed, the engine revs jump quickly and seem to hang in place, disconnected from the bike’s own rate of acceleration. But a couple of seconds later things seem to sync up again, with the engine speeds rising in conjunction with the speedometer, rather than droning listlessly regardless of the situation.

You never quite escape that drone, however. YouTube shows us how these scooters can actually sound fairly entertaining, popping and crackling on overrun as part of an enjoyable sonic accompaniment to more spirited riding – but only if you shell out for an aftermarket exhaust system. Yamaha wants more than £1,000 for the official Akrapovic option, and the T-Max definitely loses points for a stock system that is so quiet and devoid of character as to be quickly (and mercifully) drowned out by wind noise.

Which is a shame, because I’ve been racking my brains since I handed the keys back, trying to think of any other reasons to subtract points from the T-Max’s score. Yamaha’s designers did their best in wrapping an attractive body around a naturally bulbous layout, but I’d appreciate a more interesting selection of colours than varying shades of black and grey. The stock windshield is good, if not great – wind hits me right in the helmet and can cause a bit of noise at higher speeds, but it’s mostly smooth flow – no buffeting.

The £1,500 extra you pay for the DX version of the T-Max gives you a couple of extra buttons that raise the height of that windshield a considerable amount, theoretically solving that problem at a stroke. It also gives you electronic cruise control, heated grips and even a heated rider’s seat. There’s also a clever telematics system that allows you to remotely track your bike in case of theft, and view statistics about where you’ve ridden and how fast you were going – the latter not necessarily a benefit, perhaps. But that’s it – the rest are minor cosmetic differences, and if it weren’t for the blanking plates on the left-hand switchgear you’d never know you’d skimped and ordered the cheaper model.

All flavours get large twin dials for speed and revs, both chosen more to make four-wheeled converts feel comfortable rather than provide any real benefit to the rider. Digital speedos are always easier to read, and on an automatic transmission the tachometer only serves as a distraction from the road ahead. And it really is surprisingly easy to get distracted; I frequently found myself looking around and admiring the scenery, so easy was the T-Max to ride.

That should have meant that the experience was boring – I wasn’t being called upon to focus every fibre of my being on the task at hand, yet I was somehow enjoying the ride all the same. If anything, I worry that my riding standard might suffer when I’m not trying to hone my skills to a point with each ride, in every corner. And I would definitely need to decrease my speed further still if I’m going to start admiring distant mountains instead of watching for hazards ahead. But isn’t that what I’m looking for here? I really struggled to figure out what my opinion of the T-Max was, something tangible and objective that I could pin down in writing. But the overriding point is simply that I’d really quite like to ride it some more.

It’s not thrilling or raw, and doesn’t offer any kind of visceral riding experience. It’s not spectacularly efficient for its engine size, the Continuously-Variable-Transmission and barn-door windshield conspiring to push fuel economy down to about 60. Yet, like my V-Strom 650 it’s pretty good at everything while adding a wealth of practical functionality. You can rarely exploit the massive horsepower of a modern sports-tourer in the real world, but you can make use of the T-Max’s genuinely comfortable seat for every second of every ride.

The price of admission will be an issue for some, although a quick scan of the classifieds reveals that there are bargains to be had on nearly-new models. Oil changes are every 6,000 miles, with 12k major services including replacement of the transmission v-belt. Pay a workshop to remove all that plastic and the labour rate can really add up, but my research shows that it’s nothing that a patient home mechanic should be scared of. And being a Yamaha, valve clearance checks aren’t necessary until 24,000 miles, something I feel other manufacturers could learn from.

There’s no oily chain to maintain, thanks to the belt final-drive, headlights are modern LEDs and the massive fairing will keep you warm and dry in conditions when most motorcyclists would be huddling for shelter under bridges. The T-Max genuinely seems to offer all the advantages of the much-maligned scooter format, without suffering from many of the issues that gave rise to that battered reputation. And if you want to tweak the format, the T-Max has one of the most extensive after-market followings I’ve ever seen – at least, once you reach outside of our insular British bubble.

Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. It may well be that the best low-intensity touring motorcycle is, in fact, a scooter.

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream June 2019

Go to Part 2