Author: Nick Tasker

End of an Era

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

As we reach the end of the decade and another season packed with motorcycle shows has wrapped up it’s worth reflecting once more on where the last ten years have brought us, and where we might be going. The age of the superbike is over, and the age of the hyperbike has begun. But so, I would argue, has the age of reason.

With the launch of the new Honda CBR-1000RR-R Fireblade, the last of the sensible road-biased 1000cc sportsbikes is dead, and a new era of £20k+ exotica is upon us. At a time when fewer and fewer new riders are choosing to embark upon their motorcycle journey, the crossing of this psychologically important barrier is triggering a wave of introspection across huge swathes of the biking community.

Such flagship models are now well and truly out of reach for the vast majority of riders. And even if you are personally financially capable of placing such a vehicle in your garage for the length of a PCP contract, the value proposition becomes ever-harder to justify when the real-world application of these bikes has shrunk at a rate inversely proportional to their rapidly rising cost.

A laser-focus on on-track performance has destroyed any real-world usability litre-class sportsbikes once possessed. Big adventure tourers like BMW’s R1250GS, KTM’s 1290 Super Adventure and Ducati’s Multistrada 1260 Enduro have gotten bigger and heavier to the point that they’re now no longer effective as all-road devices, more akin to two-wheeled Porsche Cayennes than Land Rover Defenders. The sports-tourer genre used to be where softer, slower sportsbikes lurked in order to avoid unflattering comparisons with razor’s edge performance machinery of the day. Yet Kawasaki’s H2 SX uses a supercharged 1000cc engine to warp space and time in a way that speed freaks from the golden age of sportsbikes could only dream of.

Don’t get me wrong – I love that these machines exist. But they exist now purely as statements, both of the technical capabilities of their manufacturers and the girth of their owner’s wallets. They have fully embraced their role as the Lamborghinis and Ferraris of the motorcycle world: expensive toys designed to mollify the wealthy rider’s ego with the knowledge that, if called upon, they could comfortably outrun a category five tropical storm.

Small Ones are Juicier

Not too long ago, mid-capacity motorcycles were considered to be temporary stepping-stones with zero street cred and significantly reduced build quality and specification. To roll up at a bike meet with “only a 600” was to invite ridicule and mockery. This attitude persisted for decades, with PCP providing a way for the illusion of affordability to persist in the face of soaring price tags. But now that thread has finally snapped, and there’s a kind of freedom in finally accepting that the vast majority of us can safely ignore the top-shelf selections entirely.

One of the best adventure-tourers on the market, featuring “only” 850cc of displacement.

What’s more, today’s mid-capacity bikes are a far cry from the bargain-basement parts-bin specials we remember from twenty years ago. The variety, capability and equipment level you can now purchase for half the price of the top-range machinery is truly remarkable, often far in excess of top-flight machines from just a few years ago.

890cc only seems small because KTM has desensitised us with their 1290cc version.

That Ducati 916 you always promised yourself one day? A new Panigale V2 will outrun it on the straights and leave it for dead in the corners, all while using less fuel and with service intervals that would’ve seemed pure fantasy just a decade ago. You really don’t need a Panigale V4, and now that you can’t afford one, you can happily forget all about it.

Owners love their Yamaha FJR1300s, and in ages past the brand’s Tracer 900 would’ve been ignored as a low-powered learner-tolerant alternative. But the FJR is heavy, thirsty, and not noticeably more powerful than it’s significantly cheaper stablemate. You’re not giving up build quality or electronic toys, nor are you noticeably sacrificing luggage capacity or pillion comfort. You get high-spec brakes and suspension, just like you’d expect on a flagship high-performance machine, and all for less than £10,000. The fact that Yamaha sells every one they can build supports my thesis that the era of egotism and excess is indeed over for most riders. Perhaps now we can finally agree that 115bhp is more than enough for a road bike and that choosing a “smaller” machine is no longer a sign of mental, physical, or sexual deficiency.

I’ve ridden and loved the Tracer 700 and the updated version looks fantastic. What’s more, the Euro5 updates don’t seem to have dented the power output nor added to the weight – it’s fully-fueled and ready to propel you across the continent at a lithe 196kg, and all for just £7,400. But nothing better highlights the “less is more” era we currently find ourselves in than the new Yamaha Ténéré 700. Sharing the same drivetrain as the Tracer and MT07, the Ténéré asks buyers to dig a little deeper at £8,700, but in return delivers far more capable off-road performance than any of the big-capacity flagships. KTM’s 790 Adventure pulls off the same trick, proving once and for all that anyone who tells you they need the bigger 1290’s power output to scramble down green lanes is lying to themselves, as well as to their bank manager.

Want to cruise in comfort? 650cc is plenty, and a £6,600 price tag is welcome.

BMW’s new F900XR makes the far-more-expensive, thirsty, and heavy S1000XR largely redundant for most riders. Anyone contemplating the purchase of a new Honda CRF1100 Africa Twin for an off-road adventure hasn’t seen the price tags, nor spent much time in the dirt and mud, where the brand’s own CRF250L reigns supreme. At almost £20,000, a top-spec Africa Twin will now cost you more than four CRF250Ls. You could pay for three friends to join you and still save money.

I’ve ridden and loved the Tracer 700 and the updated version looks fantastic. What’s more, the Euro5 updates don’t seem to have dented the power output nor added to the weight – it’s fully-fueled and ready to propel you across the continent at a lithe 196kg, and all for just £7,400. But nothing better highlights the “less is more” era we currently find ourselves in than the new Yamaha Ténéré 700. Sharing the same drivetrain as the Tracer and MT07, the Ténéré asks buyers to dig a little deeper at £8,700, but in return delivers far more capable off-road performance than any of the big-capacity flagships. KTM’s 790 Adventure pulls off the same trick, proving once and for all that anyone who tells you they need the bigger 1290’s power output to scramble down green lanes is lying to themselves, as well as to their bank manager.

Want something sportier? 700cc is all you need to tour Europe.

Buy this bike on PCP and it’ll cost you almost £21k. Not interested.

BMW’s new F900XR makes the far-more-expensive, thirsty, and heavy S1000XR largely redundant for most riders. Anyone contemplating the purchase of a new Honda CRF1100 Africa Twin for an off-road adventure hasn’t seen the price tags, nor spent much time in the dirt and mud, where the brand’s own CRF250L reigns supreme. At almost £20,000, a top-spec Africa Twin will now cost you more than four CRF250Ls. You could pay for three friends to join you and still save money.

Harley-Davidson’s idea of downsizing is entertaining, with their physically-imposing and aesthetically-challenging Pan America displacing a claimed 1250cc, matching all but the very biggest of its European competitors’ flagships in the segment. Even the 950cc Bronx is hardly a small machine, while unlikely to register as a serious alternative to Triumph’s existing Speed Triple or its ilk. Price, as well as weight and power figures, will be very telling. But as the new Indian FTR1200 has lately proven, American cruiser manufacturers are facing an uphill battle to compete in these market segments.

As a rider interested in exploring some off-road adventures after even a 650cc Suzuki V-Strom proved too large and cumbersome for the Trans-European Trail, I am delighted to see Fantic making some serious moves in UK market. Their interesting new Caballero 500cc single-cylinder road bikes appeared in magazine reviews earlier this year, providing a cheaper (and purchasable) alternative to CCM’s many hand-made Spitfire variants. What’s more, they offer a selection of 50cc, 125cc and even a 250cc road-legal enduro bikes, undercutting Honda’s popular CRF250L on both price and weight. Colour me interested.

Continuing the off-road theme, Husqvarna has diverged from their KTM overlord’s 690 Enduro by adding a Long-Range (LR) variant to their 701 Enduro. With 25 litres of fuel, the frugal and well-equipped single-cylinder motorcycle should be good for more than 300 miles of off-road riding. Only the BMW R1250GS Adventure claims a similar tank range, yet costs almost twice as much and would get itself wedged solid on trails a Husqvarna rider would breeze along. For those seriously planning some long-distance off-road adventures, the showroom choices have improved markedly this year.

How fast do you ride off-road? 250cc versions are available too.

The second evolution of the motorcycle?

Which brings us neatly back to the very start of this piece. For years, bikers have persuaded themselves and each other that they needed more power, more engine, more speed, and manufacturers were only too happy to oblige. We pushed them harder and harder, to the point where whole new kinds of electronic rider aids had to be developed to keep these new monsters in check, and still we demanded more. But now the bubble has burst, and we’ve finally realised that not only can smaller, cheaper motorcycles be just as fun and capable as their high-end cousins, in many cases they can actually be better in almost every way.

The Cycle Begins Anew

And not a moment too soon. Because while the motorcycle industry continues to wrestle with chronic addiction to baby-boomer cash, competition is arriving from an unexpected and ironic source. Motorcycles were originally born from bicycle manufacturers bolting early petrol engines into beefed-up frames. And while our evolutionary offshoot has produced the dinosaurs of our time, the meteorite of demographic, social, and political change is poised to kill it off entirely.

Threat or salvation? Motorcycle alternative or stepping-stone?

In the meantime, the original strain has persisted, and in the last ten years has begun to rapidly mutate. Across Europe, more bicycles are now sold with electric motors than without. These electrically-assisted bicycles take the bite out of hills, provide a safeguard against exhaustion, and are even providing a way for older or less fit individuals to get some much-needed exercise. As legislation begins to choke the life from the motorcycle industry in its current form, this unlikely competitor has emerged to nibble at the edges.

Boutique builders may one day be all that remains of mainstream motorcycling…

Prices have plummeted, and a high-quality multi-purpose e-bike with luggage rack, lights and mudguards can now be had for under £3,000. In increasingly-densely-populated urban centres, even a motorcycle no longer makes sense. And while a traditional bicycle might leave you arriving at work hot and sweaty, an e-bike does not. All these factors combined mean that motorcycling is fighting for relevance in a world increasingly hostile to its very existence.

It’s entirely possible that motorcycling can co-exist with autonomous cars and swarms of cyclists, both in terms of space on our roads and room in our budgets. But if it does, it will be as a much smaller version of itself, and with much smaller, more affordable motorcycles. There will always be room for high-priced exotica, and people willing and able to purchase and perhaps even ride them. But those few riders alone won’t keep the bike cafés open, the leather and textile makers in business, nor provide enough of a voting population to keep the encroaching safety legislators at bay.

Manufacturers follow the money, and if we show them that mid-capacity motorcycles can sell, then more will come. This will make the sport more affordable, and if we desist in our hostility towards small-capacity motorcycles and their riders, then perhaps some of those e-cyclists will be tempted to try something faster, without pedals. The next ten years will make or break motorcycling in the UK, and perhaps the whole of the developed world. E-Bikes could save us or destroy us, and the outcome is entirely up to whether we can embrace a small-capacity future or choose to hide in the past.

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream January 2020

One Bike to Rule Them All?

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Motorcyclists, on average, own more than one motorcycle. Only truly hardcore automotive enthusiasts own more than one car, the financial and logistical constraints of the format conspiring to ensure that even most performance-oriented cars need to be able to function as someone’s only mode of practical transport. Motorcycles don’t have that problem.

Today, it’s possible to have a garage full of bikes that have dramatically different operational envelopes. But what came first, the chicken or the egg? Do we need multiple motorcycles because each one is only good at one thing? Or is it the other way around, and brands are only able to thrive while selling specialised hardware precisely because they know you have other bikes for other purposes?

There are dirt bikes for exploring byways; sportsbikes for clipping apexes at trackdays; naked roadsters for B-road blasts; big tourers for nipping to the Black Forest for a long weekend in comfort; and even long, low cruisers for rolling up at your favourite biker cafe in style. In truth, I could spend the rest of this article just listing the many genres and applications of motorcycles, and still have someone email me a list of those I’d missed.

And yet, even if you have the means to stock your garage with diverse choices, there’s a purity to doing it all on just one bike. There have been several times in my riding career when the question of which bike to ride was moot, and it’s always liberating. No worries about whether I’ve brought the wrong bike for a particular ride or trip, no nagging concern that I might’ve had more fun on one of my other motorcycles. It was a bike ride, I rode my bike. Simple.

Insurance, tax and MOTs all need paying for regardless of how the mileage is divided up, and the reality is that you can only sit in one saddle at a time. Sure, there are practical benefits to sharing the load – if one bike is off the road for repairs or maintenance it’s handy to have a backup. Although it must be said that this argument breaks down if, like me, you aim for your fleet to have as little overlap as possible. If your sporty bike gets a puncture the day before a trackday you can’t exactly shrug and take your cruiser instead.

And yet, I’m increasingly convinced that one bike can do it all. Twenty years ago the only way to get good brakes, suspension and decent power was to grit your teeth and clamber aboard a dedicated sportsbike – comfort and practicality be damned. They were the flagships, and everything else was compromised in some way – and so people compromised on luggage and comfort instead. But these days the most expensive bikes in the showroom stand tall on their dirt-styled tyres, glowering down at lesser bikes with their array of LED spotlights. Adventure Bikes can do now everything as well, or better, than everything else in the showroom.

20 years ago, top-flight sportsbikes were the only way to get good performance.

Touring, trackdays & commuting – there’s a certain simplicity to doing it all on one bike.

Upside-down cartridge forks and radial brakes, but also two-up comfort and luggage?

Comfort? Check – Adventure Bikes, or Adventure Tourers as some variants are labelled, are designed to soak up big miles with ease. Performance? Check – the top-flight models from the European manufacturers use big engines to put out more torque and power than can be usefully employed anywhere outside a racetrack. Brakes and suspension are not only better quality than race bikes from just a few years ago, they manage the trick of enabling these big beasts to out-handle dedicated performance machines on the bumpiest of neglected British roads.

Want tech? Sportsbikes are the ones playing catch-up these days, with the slickest TFT screens, automated electronic suspension and riding aids going to the Adventure Bikes first. And finally, luggage; beefy subframes and fashionable yet functional top-loading panniers mean that the dedicated touring motorcycle has all but died out, with only BMW and Honda offering a grand total of three models between them in the UK. I know that there’s a little more choice in North American markets, but in Europe, the Adventure Bike has completely taken over.

And honestly, I’m just as guilty of contributing to this state of affairs. I bought a V-Strom 650, modified it to suit and then spent 75,000 miles riding it in all conditions, on all surfaces, in every type of terrain and weather, across borders, on road, track and beyond, with and without luggage and passenger. And during my adventures, did I ever think that another bike might have been better at performing the task at hand, might have made a trip, ride or other biking experience that much more enjoyable? Sure – but only for one small part of the journey. You see, unless you do all your riding within a few miles of your house, you’re going to put down some miles travelling to the good roads, or the racetrack, or the trailhead. And while a sportsbike will be slightly more fun when you’re actually knee-down at Mallory Park, there’s a reason why hardcore track-rats cart their bikes around in vans. Carving up mountain passes is indeed more rewarding on my Street Triple than it is on my V-Strom, but only just. And the V-Strom will make the journey there far easier and more enjoyable, with better wind protection, as well as easier-to-use, more spacious and more secure luggage.

Dedicated touring bikes still exist, but adventure bikes have largely made them redundant.

With bumpy roads, variable weather and lots to carry, would they have been better off on ADVs

After several days of re-packing and re-strapping my tailpack, I really started to miss my topbox.

This point was driven home by me earlier this year across two separate trips – one 7-day blast across the Swiss Alps, and another shorter loop around the Scottish North Coast 500 – both undertaken by myself and a friend on our trusty Street Triples. We both had an absolute blast, but after long days in the saddles we realised that we would’ve given up very little in terms of cornering enjoyment if we’d been riding middleweight Adventure Bikes instead.

500 miles along French motorways was a trial to be overcome. Squeezing clothes and toiletries into tiny tailpacks was a daily frustration. The bumpy roads of the highlands knackered our wrists and short fuel ranges were a constant gnawing concern. Sure, you may want to stop every 100 miles, but you can’t always find an open petrol station in many of the most interesting parts of Europe, never mind beyond! When the rain arrived, I missed my V-Strom’s windshield, fairing and handguards. And while oiling my chain would’ve been easier with the V-Strom’s centrestand. Many adventure bikes solve the problem entirely with shaft-driven rear wheels.

A BMW R1250GS is lighter and more nimble than it’s fully-faired RT cousin, has better wind protection than the naked R and will be far more comfortable during the long motorway stretches than the RS. An S1000RR has more power and weighs less than an S1000XR, but which one would you rather take for a long ride through the Pyrenees? Which one would your pillion prefer? Naked bikes, sportsbikes, retro roadsters – they all look great and perform brilliantly when the conditions are magazine-photo-perfect, but at any other part of the trip you’ll want something a little less single-minded.

Twenty years ago the compromises would have been huge. I would have had to sacrifice a massive amount of engine, handling and braking performance to get my desired level of comfort and practicality. Not any more. And there will certainly be those of you who see the pain and discomfort of using a more focused device as a badge of honour and pride, and I certainly understand that. There are those amongst you for whom any compromise will be one too many. My brother maintains that he’ll never give up the front-end feel he enjoys from his sportsbike, and his wife seems perfectly happy to tour from that tiny back seat. That said, it’s funny how he’s putting far more miles on his CCM GP450 these days…

And so, as always, it comes down to personal preference. I’m not going to be thinning my personal fleet just yet, nor stop adding more specialised bikes to the garage to fill ever-smaller niches. I’m fortunate enough to able to afford to keep multiple motorcycles, even if the annual mileages on my more focused vehicles is dwarfed by that of my Adventure Bike. And if you only have the resources or the space to keep a single motorcycle in your garage, then why not pick one that is a jack of all trades, while also managing the impressive trick of damn near mastering them all?

“Call that an adventure bike? This is an adventure bike!”

 

 

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream November 2019

Triumph Tiger 800 XRT

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

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

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

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

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

Dedicated Follower of Fashion?

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

BMW R1250GS Review

Henry Ford is said to have opined that, should he have asked people what they wanted from a future transport solution they would have simply requested a faster horse. Apple famously made its fortune delivering products that nobody knew they wanted, and it’s arguable that the original BMW R80GS did the same thing. Journalists at the time were baffled, complaining that it was too heavy to compete with dirt bikes, and that more traditional touring bikes had it beat on paved roads. Yet a combination of genuine everyday capability, iterative improvement and a healthy dose of clever marketing mean that the modern-day iteration sold more than 4,000 examples in the UK in 2017.

Almost 40 years of development brings plenty of improvements and refinements, as engineers try to satisfy marketing’s desire to appeal to wider and wider demographics. Lower seat heights entice the short of leg to join the fun, while better brakes and suspension as well as a power output 270% of the original bring in those of a more sporting persuasion. Stronger chassis and subframes provide the passenger and luggage requirements of the touring set and an ever-more sophisticated electronics suite rounds off the package for tech fetishists. The latest revision, the new R1250GS, really should be all things to all people.

Every major manufacturer is working hard to constantly broaden the appeal of every bike in their range. The main problem with iterative development arises when you keep moving the goalposts, when your target keeps shifting. Before you know it, you have lost sight of the original purpose of the thing you were building, and have created something that is a caricature of itself. But going backwards, aiming for less weight, less power, and more control would be unthinkable! It would surely be commercial suicide, as no-one would buy a bike that had lower numbers than the competition!

This story isn’t unique to the R1250GS or even to BMW; consumers have never been good at separating what we ‘want’ from what we ‘need’, and the people in charge of selling us stuff have zero incentive to discourage our appetites. Marketing, journalists and consumers all demand more power, but riders can’t actually handle that, so electronic aids are brought in to compensate. The chassis and suspension can’t handle it either, so they are both beefed up and yet more electronics added to shocks and forks in a desperate attempt to keep the rising mass of modern motorcycles under control at ever-higher speeds on fast-degrading roads.

All those electronics now mean that handlebar switchgear has begun to resemble video game controllers, so manufacturers are sticking with the theme and adding full-colour computer screens where the dashboards used to be. You need a half hour with the instruction manual to get the bike ready to go, and piloting a modern motorcycle at speed is now like flying a modern-day jet aircraft, the laws of physics kept barely in check by an overlapping network of electronic safety nets.

I rode the first-generation water-cooled R1200GS back when it first launched, and found it to be extraordinary. The tremendous capability of the machine far exceeded what I could make use of at the time, and while my riding has continued to develop in the intervening years I suspect that the 2013 machine still has more performance than the average rider can safely use on public roads.

BMW hasn’t been idle either, making nips and tucks throughout the life of the water-GS, with premium features becoming standard-fit and new tech introduced almost every year to tempt well-heeled buyers into adding more ticks to their options list. In fact, the only really notable change over last year’s version is the extra 80cc’s of displacement that give the R1250GS its name. As such this new BMW is simply an example of the culture of excess that has spread throughout mainstream motorcycling; let’s see if we can identify the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Figures show that mass has increased over time, with the latest GS now weighing in at a shade over 250kg with a full tank of petrol. The optional spoked wheels add a few more kilos, as will the crash bars, luggage and other accessories that owners will undoubtedly bolt on (or more likely have their dealer install). Styling tweaks have served to add a fair bit of visual bulk over the years, and the German flagship is now a truly imposing beast.

Switchgear is of high quality, with a satisfying feel that is a joy to use – with the sole exception of the indicator and cruise-control switches. There’s so little movement that you find yourself looking down to confirm you’ve definitely pressed them. Despite adding an actual scroll-wheel (which itself contains an additional two tilt buttons) many of the dozen or so buttons have different functions depending on how long you hold them down. Outside of the basic riding functions, the bike is impossible to operate without looking down at the gloriously animated full-colour high-resolution digital dashboard.

The new BMW computer screen is far better than anything Triumph, Ducati or KTM have on offer at the moment, and feels like a genuine functional improvement over existing analogue or LCD units. It’s large, clear and easy to read even in direct sunlight, uses colour to enhance rather than distract, and provides all the information you need at a glance. Triumph’s units have fascias so large they remind me of old CRT televisions, and reading a Ducati TFT is like trying to decipher a detailed spreadsheet.

And yet, as I alluded to earlier, I strongly suspect that BMW’s primary motivator was not to one-up the competition, but simply to make all their technology manageable through a graphical user interface. It’s already a bit like using a digital watch, with multiple functions attached to each button, and navigating the various menus via the left-hand scroll wheel is probably something that gets easier with familiarity. There are main menus and sub-menus, with screens hidden behind other screens. At one point I resorted to turning the bike off and on again as the fastest way to get back to the regular dashboard layout.

The R1250GS has all the hallmarks of a bike designed through exhaustive focus testing. It has loads of power – 135bhp and 143Nm of torque. The levers, screen and seat are all adjustable, and the suspension can not only be adjusted electronically on the move, it’s now self-levelling depending on load and passengers, and even adjusts the damping in real-time to manage whatever surprises the road surface can throw at it. The brakes, despite no longer sporting the ultra-fashionable Brembo logo, are stupendous; how quickly you can stop is solely dependent on how much g-force your upper body can handle.

You can attach loads of luggage, and even remove the pillion seat for more space to strap stuff to. The lighting is now full LED, and fully automatic. It has cruise control for long motorway trips, the seat is comfortable and the windshield height-adjustable from the cockpit. It even gets acceptable fuel economy, and only very aggressive riding managed to push the average mpg down below 50. Everyone wants multiple riding modes now, so it has those too. Good grief, it even has a quick-shifter, something originally designed for racing and now this season’s must-have accessory. As I said earlier, this bike has been designed to be all things to all people, the formula polished until it gleams – this should be the perfect motorcycle.

And yet, there are serious issues. Every review of the R1200GS inexplicably complained that it was underpowered compared to the competition, and so an incredibly clever new variable-valve timing system was developed that boosts torque and power across the entire rev range. Despite the 80cc more cubic capacity this enormous engine revs up more like an inline four-litre bike engine than a big, torquey twin. I’m used to the snatchy aftermarket quick-action throttle on my Triumph Street Triple, and in Dynamic mode the R1250GS was far twitchier.

BMW know this, which is why you have to pay extra to even get access to that particular riding mode. ‘Road’ and ‘Rain’ dampen response considerably, but also add a woolly feel and even hesitation that made smooth gear changes extremely difficult. The new quick-shifter suggests that BMW spotted this issue as well, allowing fully hands-free gear shifts. Unfortunately, in almost all circumstances it works very poorly, resulting in jerky upshifts and even worse downshifts. It was so bad that I was prompted to ask the BMW rep if the system was disabled on my example, and I was condescendingly told that I merely needed to get used to it. Perhaps having your pillion’s helmet crashing into the back of your own is an acquired taste?

Similarly ferocious sportsbikes are normally equipped with extremely stiff suspension to counteract the squatting and diving forces caused by accelerating and braking. Matters are complicated somewhat when you’re carrying around 50kg of reinforced subframes, and probably another 100kg of luggage and passenger. But touring riders want a soft, comfortable ride, so computer-controlled suspension is available to try and provide the best of both worlds. It’s a testament to BMW’s engineers that it almost succeeds. The trick, it seems, is to keep the shock absorbers soft most of the time, and then firm them up quickly in response to large, sudden inputs to control excessive movement.

In practice it seems that the on-board computers just can’t cope, at least on Northamptonshire’s rutted tarmac. Small surface undulations are absorbed well enough in ‘Road’ mode, making for a comfortable ride and allowing you to maintain the rapid pace that the engine enables. But hit a patch of rougher asphalt and the dampers seem to lock up, transmitting the shock into the chassis and causing the entire bike to shudder and flex. I’m afraid it’s not what I’d expect from a brand new £16,000 flagship.

Switching the suspension over to ‘Dynamic’ simply made matters worse, delivering a ride so firm that both wheels were frequently bouncing off the ground and triggering the ABS and traction control. The only solution was to ride more slowly, rendering all that power utterly pointless.

Perhaps a beefier rider might better suit the spring rates that BMW have chosen for their shocks, and if you only stick to smooth, open roads you may find the suspension to be perfectly adequate. But surely the whole point of adventure bikes is that they allow us to continue enjoying our roads even as they continue to fall apart? Perhaps that fast-revving engine would be blunted somewhat were I to weigh more than my meagre 70kg, and the bike further loaded down with a pillion and full complement of hard luggage. And perhaps the steep inclines and high altitudes of the Swiss Alps would smooth things out the rest of the way. But unless I just described your sole use-case of a purportedly ultra-versatile machine, I think there are less compromised solutions out there.

I really wanted to like this new GS, I really did. I have tremendous respect for the bike and the BMW brand, and I think that they’re one of the few manufacturers actively trying to solve the marketing and dealership problems that threaten to strangle the motorcycle industry. But I’m afraid that their product has fallen victim to fashion, and the demand for more power and gadgets has resulted in a demonstrably compromised motorcycle. I’d love to see what a 900cc version would look like – 100bhp and a 30kg diet might be the sweet spot, and more of the bike could be enjoyed without computer interference at every turn. It’s a shame the road-oriented F750GS has been so badly neutered to give the off-road focused F850GS room to breathe.

Unfortunately, from my perspective, the iconic motorcycle that kick-started the entire adventure segment has now become just like the company’s cars: overweight, overcomplicated and overpriced. An impressive technical showcase whose electronic faculties are less of a testament to innovation and more of a desperate attempt to win the ultimate game of motorcycle Top Trumps. It’s a little bit like my cooking, in fact: all the right ingredients, yet somehow the result just leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream May 2019

A Different Type of Riding (Part 3: 2018 Harley Davidson Sport Glide)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Those of you who have been following this mini-series will have discovered that while mid-capacity scooters tick a lot of practical boxes, they don’t provide a visceral low-speed experience to augment a sight-seeing tour through Scandinavia. Given that a feet-forward riding position is on my checklist this time around my next area of exploration was obvious: I needed to look at cruisers.

The thing is, cruisers are surprisingly hard to find in the UK market. The reality is that we’re a nation of recovering sports-bike addicts, shifting to adventure bikes as we and our road network suffer the ravages of age and abuse. Those still looking for their low-tech, low-speed, hair-in-the-wind experience go to the player everyone else gave up competing with; they go to Harley-Davidson.

And yet, my riding experience of previous Harleys was underwhelming in the extreme. Weak brakes, scrunched-up riding positions, minuscule fuel tanks and non-existent suspension led me to conclude that Harley-Davidson were rolling art, and nothing more. Based on conversations with Harley owners over the last few years, my mistake had been riding the “small” Harleys, rather than the “full-sized” ones. They assured me that the build quality and riding experience on the big-twin models was in another league, and that I should stop using their 300kg+ kerb weights as a reason to avoid them.

One of the latest of these new Softail models was the Harley-Davidson Sport-Glide. I was intrigued; blacked-out engine with a minimum of chrome, hard, lockable quick-release luggage as standard and even a nifty removable mini-fairing. Black & polished alloy cast wheels and a comfy-looking bucket seat completed the image of a relaxed, light-duty tourer, clearly designed as a stepping stone for those not yet ready to commit to a fully-faired bagger from the Touring range.

The first surprise was the lack of an ignition key. Like the little Honda scooter, all Harleys now use proximity keys instead. The kill switch toggles the ignition state if the fob is nearby, allowing you to start the engine without fishing through your pockets, although locking the luggage still requires an old-fashioned key. Harley also has a typically low-tech solution to the question of opening the petrol tank – they simply don’t make it lockable.

Tucked away on the left instrument cluster is another surprise – a cruise control switch. Further up is the control for the multi-function trip computer, represented by a small LCD screen tucked away underneath the analogue speedometer. You can scroll through a couple of trip meters, the clock, fuel range and even current engine RPM, with a digital segmented fuel gauge running along the top of the display. A single number on the right indicates the current gear, although generally you’ll only need it for confirming when you’re in sixth on motorways.

That enormous clutch-lever is a two-finger pull, and the rumbling engine responds smoothly and easily to the feather-light throttle. I’ve ridden 125’s that were more difficult to set off on, although I did later discover some slight hesitation on initial throttle openings that my salesman attributed to the upgraded camshaft & associated fuelling changes. I would have to ride a stock example to be sure, but it was no worse than any other modern bike I’ve ridden lately.

Harley’s new engines are now fully counter-balanced, leaving just enough of a throb to remind you it’s there without causing your glasses to rattle off your nose at stop lights. Turning onto the road demonstrated that low-speed manoeuvres would be a little tricky with that large rear-brake pedal, but I had already forgotten that this machine weighed a full 100kg more than the bike I’d arrived on – it certainly didn’t feel like it.

Rolling down the first stretch of road demonstrated a compliant and controlled suspension system at work, communicating the details of the road surface whilst softening their impact. As I approached the first junction I braced myself to begin the process of slowing down 317kg of steel using a single front disk. Imagine my surprise then when I had to ease off the front brake entirely to avoid stopping a dozen metres short of the lights, such was the bite and power of that single four-pot calliper. Harley now out-sources their braking components to Brembo, and the Harley-Davidson Sport Glide stops impressively quickly despite its considerable weight.

Taking a stop to look up some specs online revealed more interesting facts. Thanks to the low-revving engine (redline is somewhere around 5,000RPM) Harley valve trains use hydraulic lifters, meaning that they will never need their clearances adjusting – ever. The kevlar final drive belt means there’s no chain to oil, and anecdotally have been known to last 70,000 miles and beyond without replacement. That new eight-valve engine is also more frugal than the previous generation, thanks in part to twin spark plugs per cylinder, and averages of 50-55mpg are to be expected in normal riding.

Submitting to the inevitable and introducing small oil coolers to keep the exhaust valve temperatures down also means that there was no more heat spilling off the power plant than from any other bike I have ridden. And this was no ordinary engine; the previous owner had dug into the performance section of Harley’s famous parts catalogue and equipped this bike with a higher-lift ‘Torque’ camshaft, a freer-flowing exhaust and intake and a full dyno remap to match. According to the Harley salesman, horsepower was up 30bhp over the original 75, with a matching jump in torque.

Those may not sound like earth-shattering numbers from what is essentially a 1.8litre engine, but the area under the torque curve is immense, delivering more thrust at 3,000RPM than a KTM SuperDuke does anywhere in the rev range. While acceleration is of course a factor of mass, there’s simply no ignoring that much sheer thrust. Let the engine climb up to 3-4k and you’ll be holding on for dear life, with no signs of the engine letting up. Admittedly I would expect an unmodified engine to reign things in somewhat, but all of those upgrades were fully warrantied and fitted by Harley themselves for around £2,000 extra. Think of it as a Sport Glide”R”, then.

So; the engine and brakes impress, in a way that I genuinely didn’t expect. What about the handling? The aforementioned low-speed manners are faultless, and while I daresay that tighter roads might require a lower pace than from a modern super-naked it handled the sweeping curves of Oxford with aplomb. Twice metal met tarmac despite my caution, although I later discovered it to be the after-market exhaust system that was grounding out, not the considerably higher forward-set footpegs. I’m quite certain I would not recommend a Harley-Davidson to someone plotting to chase down sports bikes through the Pyrenees, but then I already have my V-Strom for that.

Which brings us to the raison d’être for this test; I didn’t need or want another fast sports-tourer – I needed something that would be just as much fun when ridden in convoy behind a Belgian camper van as it would chasing down empty tarmac. And I’m extremely pleased to report that the truly characterful engine, a joy to use at any speed in any gear, made for a fantastic low-intensity journey. Motorway riding was a little less relaxed thanks to the minimal windshield. My example was equipped with the optional taller screen, but I do wonder if removing it entirely might net less buffeting.

The integrated panniers solve the luggage problem; the 19-litre tank and (relatively) impressive economy makes 200 miles between fill-ups possible, and the wide, plush seat means I could happily empty that tank multiple times in a single day. I’d personally want to bring the handlebars a little further back to compensate for my stubby T-Rex arms and add a luggage rack to increase carrying capacity further, but the beauty of that Harley parts catalogue is that there are fully-warrantied options available for every taste and requirement.

Dipping too heavily into that catalogue can prove expensive, however, which is a problem when the Sport Glide – one of the cheapest bikes in the Softail range – starts just shy of £15,000. Add an exhaust, a couple of replacement trim pieces to dispatch the remaining chrome and we’re quickly approaching BMW K1600GT territory. Many people will find those prices somewhat difficult to justify when a similar sum thrown at the BMW salesman will see you rewarded with a much lighter, much faster, and genuinely capable motorcycle.

But if we accept for a moment (and I’m still struggling with this myself) that in 2019 big bikes cost big money and start to look closely at Harley’s offerings, you can start to see where all that cash goes. There’s no electronic suspension, but then there’s barely any wiring to speak of – at least, not that you can see, with cables routed internally and hiding inside the handlebars and frame. There’s no forum-argument-winning top-end power to be found, but while an inline-four or 90-degree twin is a more efficient way to go fast, that big Harley engine is simply more enjoyable to use. It’s satisfying in the same way that power tools and food processors are – you find yourself doing odd jobs around the house or making smoothies just for an excuse to use them.

That headline price is going to prove the biggest challenge for me, however. The build quality is incredible, the paint deep and mirror-perfect, and Harley residuals are famously good, although I suspect that’s because many owners barely ride the things. But having met a few who do pile on the miles without a single complaint or mechanical malady it’s clear that an under-stressed, proven formula can make for a reliable motorcycle. I also appreciate the fact that Harley make it easy for those of less average proportions to swap out handlebars, footpegs and seats, although I wish that such items could be fitted at the factory rather than expensive dealer-fit extras.

I’m not done shopping just yet- and I’d very much like to try out an Indian Scout to see if I can find a lower-priced alternative, but the fact of the matter is that the Harley-Davidson Sport Glide has set the bar very high indeed. The search continues…

 

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream May 2019

A Different Type of Riding (Part 2: The Honda Forza 300)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Feet-forward riding position? Low-speed comfort, lockable luggage and epic fuel range? Surely there can be but one solution – a mid-capacity scooter!

Scooters are much-maligned here in the UK, our past obsession with sports bikes often pointed to as the reason why we are apparently the sole nation on this continent not to whole-heartedly embrace this most practical form of two-wheeled transport. Visit a major European city and they’re absolutely everywhere, complete with massive windshields, huge top-boxes and leg-covering scooter skirts. Unfashionable? You may think so, but the Italians seem to disagree, and fashion is kind of their thing.

Cost could be a factor. The example frequently held up is the Yamaha T-Max, which starts at more than £11,000. Admittedly this isn’t exactly a pizza-delivery vehicle, with a spec list that includes 500cc twin-cylinder engine, radial brakes, upside-down forks, heated grips & seat and even cruise control. It’s less of an oversized Vespa, more of a two-wheeled luxury sedan, with performance to match.And other scooters are available. If you don’t need or want motorcycle-grade top speeds then there’s new growth in the 300cc scooter segment. Yamaha revamped its X-Max last year, Kymco and Kawasaki have been swapping badges and paint on their respective offerings and Honda’s latest 300cc Forza has just landed here in the UK. It’s a perfect opportunity to test out the concept and see if a 20-30bhp automatic could meet my needs as a low-speed tourer.

First impressions are good, but probably depend on your own aesthetic preferences. I happen to like the angular spaceship-with-wheels styling, but I’m sure it isn’t for everyone. The wheels are well-proportioned, although at fifteen inches are still considerably smaller than what most of us will be used to. Where the Forza begins to really impress is when you take a closer look and start to dig in to the spec sheet & features lists.

To start with you get full LED lighting from stem to stern – no incandescent bulbs to fail unexpectedly while on tour, which means no need to carry spares. They’re also a damn sight brighter, and do a great job of attracting the attention of perennially distracted car drivers. Next up, a centre stand comes included, something that – with fitting – often adds close to £400 to your average adventure-tourer’s price tag.  Unfortunately, it turns out the real reason for this is that the Honda refuses to start or run while the side-stand is extended, a safety feature necessitated by the automatic twist-and-go gearbox on the Forza.

At the back we have a secure cavernous under-seat storage area, easily matching the capacity of an average top-box, while simultaneously keeping any luggage weight low to the ground. A top-box is available if yet more storage is required, with the added benefit of being linked to the same keyless access system the ignition uses.

That’s right – up front, there’s nowhere to insert a key, a proximity fob similar to many high-spec cars is provided instead. As long as this key is somewhere about your person, you can push the ignition knob to activate the system and then twist it to the relevant position. Setting the ignition to On wakes up the comprehensive dashboard tucked away inside the fairing. Road & engine speed are represented by large dials with easy-to-read numbers either side of an inverted LCD display. Here a bored rider could monitor air temperature, charging system voltage and instantaneous fuel consumption, alongside the usual twin trip meters and multi-segment fuel-gauge and coolant temperature.

Settings can be scrolled through using the left-hand switch-gear, which also includes the controls for disabling the traction control system (not really necessary with just 25bhp) and raising and lowering the electronically-adjustable screen. This last piece of equipment sounds great on paper, reacting quickly to the controls and allowing you to keep your view clear around town and dial in more wind protection on the motorway.

Unfortunately, in practice the windshield is at best ineffective and at worst downright awful. I’m 5 foot 10, and my choices were limited to where on my helmet I wanted the turbulent air directed. In the low setting I got a whistling noise and an amplified amount of air forced through the tiniest gaps in my visor’s seal. In the highest setting my head was batted around like a tethered ping-pong ball at anything above 50mph. A new shape and possibly a much taller screen are desperately needed. Either that, or a hacksaw to remove it entirely and let my Shoei’s aerodynamics do their job in a clear air stream.More useful is the small fairing cubbyhole on the left-hand side of the front fairing. Neatly integrated and otherwise invisible so as to avoid tempting casual thieves, it’s surprisingly spacious, large enough to hold a water bottle. It also contains a 12V power socket, although this will be limited to charging smartphones. Heated gear will draw more power than the meagre 24 Watts on offer, and would require leaving the cubby open to allow the cables to exit.

It’s very telling that we’re almost 1,000 words into this review and I have yet to mention the brakes, suspension or engine at all. Unfortunately, this where it all falls apart for me. None of those components do a bad job, per se. There’s just nothing remarkable or memorable about the experience they offer. The suspension, basic as it is with old-fashioned twin-shocks hanging off the end of the swing-arm, works fine, absorbing the undulations of our pock-marked road surface without too much difficulty. Pot-holes are to be avoided, especially with those smaller wheels, but given the superior quality of tarmac available on the continent shouldn’t present a problem while on tour.

The brakes are odd. Both operated by levers on the bars, the front brake is relatively tame and squishy, the rear biting so hard that it the ABS system can be triggered at will. I quickly reverted to my usual scooter tactic of squeezing both levers hard and genuinely wonder why a single linked lever couldn’t be offered instead. The rear is too sharp to be used for slow-speed manoeuvres, and the smooth engagement of the constantly-variable transmission and automatic clutch mean that U-turns can be executed using throttle alone.

The whole drivetrain, in fact, is utterly unremarkable. If it weren’t for the very faint vibration and low buzz at the edge of earplug-dampened-hearing you could believe that this was Honda’s first electric motorcycle. Torque off the line is smooth and plentiful, tapering off quickly as speeds rise towards the national limit. An indicated 90 is possible, or so I’ve heard from a friend, and if it weren’t for the atrocious windshield the Forza would be perfectly capable of crossing the empty expanses of northern France during the opening salvos of a longer tour.

At lower speeds the throttle response is perfectly judged and the added headroom over lower-capacity scooters means that overtakes are perfectly achievable, albeit with a little more forward planning than is necessary on the 150+bhp monsters many of us are used to. On the other hand, at an impressive 80mpg during mixed riding, as well as cheaper consumables and servicing, it will cost an awful lot less to run than such powerful machines.

While trundling along at 30-40mph is utterly effortless, it’s also utterly forgettable. Riding a bicycle would deliver a more memorable experience than this, and means that what I remember most about those stretches of road is the podcast I was listening to at the time. And that, I’m afraid, means that the Forza 300 fails a critical litmus test in my search for a family touring bike. In its attempts to create a two-wheeler to tempt bored commuters out of their anodyne four-wheeled boxes, Honda has succeeded too well. Even the colour options – mostly various shades of grey – match the soulless identikit cars clogging up our nation’s cities each morning.

All the practical stuff is accomplished with the usual efficiency, and as a way to get to work cheaply and easily I cannot fault it. But I don’t need a commuter. I need a fun-to-use low-speed tourer that will galvanise rather than homogenise every mile ridden, that will add flavour to my travels and become a memorable part of those future adventures. And I’m afraid the Honda Forza 300 fails hard here. My search continues…

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream April 2019

A Different Type of Riding (Part 1)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

It may come as no surprise to many of you that not everyone wants to ride everywhere as fast as possible. It certainly puzzled me for quite some time.

My entire riding career has been spent in the pursuit of optimising, improving and developing both my skills and the tools I use in an effort to become an ever safer, smoother and faster motorcyclist. I approach everything I do in this manner, always seeking to improve on previous efforts, iterating on designs and techniques in a rewarding, yet ultimately futile attempt to achieve perfection. It’s probably something to do with growing up in Germany.

When my rudimentary skills proved too limited, I joined TVAM. When my bikes held me back, I upgraded and modified them to increase their performance envelopes. I daresay my V-Strom 650 is the most over-developed example in the world, and I’d like to think I could keep up with most of you just fine through any alpine pass of your choice. But I’ve also come to the realisation that for many motorcyclists this might just be missing the point.

Where I find satisfaction and enjoyment from a series of perfectly-executed mountain hairpins, my parents are quite content to trundle along in the middle of their lane, gazing around at the surrounding scenery, often at a considerable amount below the posted limit. When returning from our last trip they enthused at length about the villages, towns and countryside monuments they had seen on our travels. I mostly recalled a series of apexes amongst a green blur in my peripheral vision. Everyone had a great time, in their own fashion.

For a number of years we toured together, with myself and often my brother waiting at junctions and the top of passes for parents, aunts and uncles to catch up. But as time has gone by the performance delta has increased; myself and my bikes have become faster, while they have preferred to dawdle at a decreasing pace. Last year the frustration this caused became too much and we resolved to no longer ride together, parting ways each morning and meeting again at the evening’s hotel to eat, drink and swap stories.

While this initially appeared to be an ideal arrangement, the truth is that in practice it strongly resembles two parallel vacations. We aren’t really on holiday together and there would be precious little difference should the two trips happen in series, rather than parallel. From my perspective nothing would change if they swapped out their bikes for a minivan; either way, we weren’t really touring together anymore.

And so a new solution is needed. Encouraging my family to join their respective IAM-affiliated clubs and learn to keep up has been unsuccessful, because they’re not actually interested in getting any quicker. They have the skills, forged over decades of riding, but aren’t interested in using them to cross countries at speed. And if they won’t go faster, and if I want to get back to riding as a family, then I’m going to have to slow down.

That sounds easy; just use less throttle, right? Except that it’s not. Everyone has their own stride, their own pace – walking down the street with someone who’s gait is considerably shorter than your own offers a similarly frustrating experience. You speed up and slow down, see-sawing back and forth as you attempt to force your own pace to match theirs and, while this is of course possible with considerable restraint, on many motorcycles it can make for uncomfortable and even painful riding.

Both of my own bikes are built to go fast. They’re fun to ride quickly, satisfying tools designed for the purpose of covering distance at speed, regardless of how twisty the route. But sat upright at half their usual speed they are uncomfortable to ride, with engines, brakes and suspension that are ill-suited for this unfamiliar task. With their smaller engines, they demand higher revs for smooth operation, which does not make for a peaceful ride at lower speeds. This results in bikes that are fun when ridden hard, but supremely dull and unmemorable when reigned in for a gentle cruise.

Which is a very long-winded way of saying that I need a new bike! Not a replacement for either of my existing steeds – each serves a very particular purpose and fills a considerable niche of my motorcycling world. There’s still a large gap where a proper dirt-bike should be (watch this space…!) but for now it’s time to fill the newly-created slot designated “Family Touring Bike”.

This means I will be shopping for a motorcycle using radically different requirements than I have ever considered in the past. Horsepower isn’t important. Cornering ability is secondary. As a touring mount items such as hard luggage, wind protection and a 200-mile tank range are minimums, but experience has also taught me to value compliant suspension, low maintenance engineering and seats and handlebar configurations that are all-day comfortable.

New to the list is a feet-forward riding position. Despite my best efforts with foot-peg relocation, my knees still ache after long days on the V-Strom, never mind my Street Triple. That discounts your usual suspects – most tourers have your knees at a 90-degree angle at most and I am really aiming for much more than that. Highway pegs are one suggestion, but as the name suggests they don’t work terribly well on winding roads where the rear brake and gearshift might be required at any moment.

But more than anything, whatever I choose absolutely, positively must be enjoyable – rather than frustrating – to ride at low speeds. It’s time to go shopping…

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream March 2019

Motorcycle Live 2018 Part 2

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Continuing Nick Tasker’s review of the Motorcycle Live event held last November at the NEC…

Ducati

We had all the big reveals last year so, for 2018, the Italian firm have tried to make as big a deal as possible about mid-cycle refreshes to their existing models. Their hilariously silly Diavel cruiser and monstrously oversized Multistrada Enduro got the new 1260cc DVT engine, resulting in smoother running and a more civilised low-speed response. The Multistrada 950 is joined by an ’S’ model, with electronic suspension and a few other goodies, raising both the price and a number of questions.

The attraction of the smaller-capacity Multistrada for me was that it was a simpler, cheaper bike for real-world riding where the bigger brother was more of a car-priced technical showcase. So how many people really want the toys from the bigger bike, yet shun the extra power, given that the weight and seat height figures are so similar? If you wanted something much lighter you could always treat yourself to the new Hypermotard, which now sports the smaller Multistrada’s engine and restyled bodywork, but loses any semblance of practicality. I bet it’s utterly hilarious to ride.

A lot of people have been expecting a new Streetfighter with the V4 powerplant, but instead we were given the Panigale V4R. Available with either 221bhp or 234bhp with the optional Akrapovic exhaust system and featuring winglets on the front fairing to keep the even-lighter bike on the road, I’m honestly not sure what to say. I haven’t ridden the previous V4, but I’m told that it’s terrifying and exhausting in equal measure. I’m not sure how increasing horsepower by 15% is going to help things in that regard.

Ducati Diaval 1260S

Triumph

Triumph are increasingly fond of announcing their new bikes at dedicated events throughout the year rather than saving them up for show season and those shopping at their local dealer next year have a breadth of updated models to choose from. The Street Twin is now quite a bit more powerful, making it an interesting choice for solo retro motoring rather than simply a castrated, beginners-only Bonneville. The Bobber has spawned so many new variants that I’ve lost track, although the more practical Speedmaster version does stand out. Even so, someone should tell Triumph that adding a pillion seat only helps matters if said seat is large enough for an actual human backside.

The T120’s have gained a couple of rather pretty special editions to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the original Bonneville for 2019, but they’re entirely styling exercises with no real changes. The only genuinely new model was the Scrambler 1200, a bike that the company claims has genuine off-road capability when compared to the more style-oriented alternatives on the market. The inclusion of a bluetooth-connected dash with GPS functionality leads me to suspect that we’re actually seeing the genesis of the retro adventure bike. Big and powerful enough to haul you and your luggage across the country and with just enough off-road capability to handle the gravel road to the campsite. It would solve the one problem that even those of us who like, and ride, adventure bikes generally agree on – they’re all pretty ugly motorcycles.

Triumph Scrambler 1200

Moto Guzzi

Speaking of retro adventure bikes, that’s possibly what Moto Guzzi is pinning its future on. The V9’s continue to be ignored in favour of the cheaper and more entertaining V7s, but at least the styling department has recognised this and is churning out new variants faster than even Harley-Davidson can manage. With their older 1200cc-engined bikes all killed off by Euro 4, Moto Guzzi would surely have folded were they not sustained by owners Piaggio. I bet an awful lot of jobs depend on the success of the new V85TT, and so they’re keeping their cards close to their chest with no solid details available.

It’s interesting that the bike was showcased with Metzeler Tourance tyres rather than some semi-knobbly treads, suggesting that the Italians are very aware that this is going to be a road bike rather than something aimed at serious off-roaders. All the other boxes are checked – metal panniers, raised mudguard, spoked wheels – so it remains to be seen whether a charismatic but overweight and underpowered air-cooled engine can compete in a world where even Triumph’s classic bikes sport secretly modern, powerful liquid-cooled engines.

Moto Guzzi V85TT

Honda

I feel that Honda have been on a roll lately. None of their models have shattered segments or set sales charts alight, but every single one of their models seems to be really rather good. Traditionally one of the more conservative manufacturers, and frequently late to the party on any new trend or fad, they’ve been showing and then releasing some interesting new interpretations of their old staples lately.

Their CBR650F has morphed into the upgraded CBR650R, with more power, less weight, upside-down forks, radial four-piston brakes, lower clip-ons, an all-new fairing with LED lighting styled on the new Fireblade, and a very cool LCD dashboard. Despite all this, you can still take one home for less than £8,000 and enjoy a genuinely usable road bike that doesn’t need revving to the stratosphere to pull away from the lights. For sporty riders, who mostly ride on the road and don’t need to win forum arguments with power figures, this could be a fantastic choice.

If you like the 650cc inline-four but prefer the style of the larger Neo-Café CB1000R, that combination will be available to order in 2019. Even A2 licence holders can get in on the fun with the CB300R. Going back up a capacity step, the three 500cc twins have had a styling revamp, and the X version even gains more ground clearance and a 19” front wheel to bring it more in line with other road-focused adventure bikes.

The only genuinely all-new bike for 2019 is the return of the legendary Super Cub. A glorious re-imagining of the original, it oozes quality and style and is a far more practical nostalgia trip than last year’s MSX-based Monkey. Complete with a semi-automatic gearbox, solo seat, luggage rack and even a fully-enclosed chain, this would be a brilliant way to get around town while making every other scooter look dull by comparison.

Honda CBR500R

Honda CB650R

KTM

KTM have teased us with their 790cc twin-cylinder concept for years, finally delivering their new middleweight Duke last year. Riotously fun to ride, journalists and early adopters were nonetheless concerned with what seemed like a rather cheap, flimsy feel to many of the components. I’m concerned that this new platform may end up sharing the reputation for build quality that the Indian-made 125 and 390’s suffer from, which would be a real black mark against the new 790 Adventure.

KTM 790 Adventure

Like its 1090 and 1290 stablemates, the smallest Adventure can be optioned in either base or R trim, depending on how much of your riding is likely to be away from tarmac. This, itself, raises the ongoing debate for our age, which is how much off-roading you can really do on a motorcycle that weighs more than 210kg wet. I daresay Lyndon Poskitt or the like could make any of the 800cc/210kg adventure-bike crowd positively fly, along even the very worst terrain, but he’d be far more likely to take something that weighed half that much for such an excursion.

KTM have a reputation for building genuinely capable faux-roaders, and the 21/18” wheel combos on offer along with the novelty engine-hugging fuel tank means the 790 adventure certainly has the right ingredients. The R model comes with an extra 2” of ground clearance and all the electronic gadgets that are expected these days and, of course, there are plenty of accessories available for those looking to spend even more.

Everyone Else…

Shall we start with Watsonian-Squire? You might have missed them at previous shows but they were always there, usually as part of the small Royal Enfield stand with a Bullet 500 clamped to one of their sidecars. Things must be looking up, as their marketing department found the budget for a much larger dedicated stand. Personal favourites were the bright-orange Vespa GT200 and the previous-generation Triumph Bonneville, both with beautifully matching sidecars. I’m not sure they work in the UK as anything but a novelty and, without proper fork conversions, they will be absolutely pigs to steer, but I want one all the same.

Watsonian Squire Vespa

Kymco were there as usual, their stand growing in strength and stature each year as their market share in mainland Europe continues to expand. This time they were showing off a beautiful 55th anniversary edition of their AK550 max-scooter. What? You didn’t know that Taiwanese Kymco have been making motorcycles since 1963? Or that they make a pretty cool swingarm-equipped sport-scooter that’s a bit like a cheaper, better-specced Yamaha T-Max? We don’t really buy scooters here in the UK, possibly because there seems to be a hard divide between those who commute into and around big cities and those that ride for pleasure. That doesn’t seem to be stopping Kymco from trying though.

Kymco AK550 55th Anniversary Edition

Indian trotted out a tweaked and varied range of Scouts (small, 1200cc water-cooled cruisers) and Chieftains (enormous air-cooled cruisers), but also announced their intention to be taken seriously by the rest of the motorcycling world by showing off their new FTR1200 naked. Although lightweight and powerful compared to anything else in their lineup, 120bhp and 235kg wet could be a tough sell in what is an incredibly competitive segment. At £12k for the base model it’s outgunned by pretty much everything until you start looking at bikes with a third less capacity. I’m glad they’re branching out, but I’m going to need someone to explain to me exactly why I should walk past every other bike in the segment and choose one of these instead.

Indian FTR1200

Vespa had a rather reduced showing this year, normally showing up with enough scooters to seriously worry a cafe full of Rockers. More disappointingly was that their new electric scooter was up on a plinth with Do Not Touch signs stuck to it. It’ll probably disappear without a trace here in the UK, but this thing could be a game-changer in the likes of Milan or Rome. When everyone rides scooters to work, people default to Vespa. That means that until Vespa make an electric scooter, you’re not even going to entertain the idea of buying one. The performance is about equivalent to a 50cc petrol scooter, maxing out at around 30mph, and range shouldn’t be an issue given the application. I’d certainly like to try one, but if my commute were that short, I’d probably just cycle…

CCM Spitfire

I was genuinely worried that CCM were going out of business after their stands shrunk dramatically over the last couple of years. Their clever 450cc single-cylinder adventure/enduro bikes were great on paper, and were much loved by everyone who bought one. But the old Rotax engine couldn’t pass Euro 4, and so CCM had to go back to the drawing board. They made a couple of lightweight tube-frame roadsters, mostly as an internal experiment and now they can’t keep up with demand for variants thereof. Every bike at the stand was either sold out or taking pre-orders, each one customised according to its buyer’s preferences, and all of them hilariously light weight and beautifully made. With no plans to make more than 200-300 per model but with new variants each year it seems that the only way to get on the list is to take a chance and put down a deposit!

Norton Ranger

Norton have been parading their V4-based race bike for what seems like forever, but that also means that a lot of people will have missed the other carbon-fibre-faired race bike they debuted at Motorcycle Live. Effectively their V4 engine with the rear bank of cylinders chopped off and bored out to meet the 650cc class limit for the super twins race series, the nearly £20,000 bike is unlikely to sell in huge numbers. It is road-legal though, as required for homologation purposes and weighs around 180kg wet in that form, but race kits are available to shave several kilos off that number. The bike will also be available in presumably cheaper naked form, with a variety of concepts shown off at the show. Think of them like really upmarket Yamaha XSR700’s.

There were at least a dozen other players present – mostly Chinese makes that had acquired existing historical nameplates in an effort to buy credibility, such as Benelli and AJS. While the former would probably resent association with the latter, any Chinese manufacturer has an uphill struggle convincing British buyers that their bikes are a worthwhile investment. Lexmoto continue to fly the flag for recognisably Chinese imports, but I have inside information that suggests the build quality and after-sales support is still nowhere near minimum acceptable levels. Building trust takes time and I’m not sure that the meagre sales available in our car-dominated part of the world will ever really be worth the effort for companies used to selling millions of units a year back home.

Didn’t make it to the show this year and fancy doing some speculative shopping without being bothered by dealership sales staff? The London Motorcycle Show runs this coming weekend from the 15th-17th of February at the Excel Centre in London. See you there!

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream February 2019

The Royal Enfield Himalayan

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Remember when the Dacia Sandero launched in the UK? It made a big splash in the automotive press and even beyond; an actual, proper car for just £6,000. With the competition priced close to three times that amount it was no surprise that a lot of people picked one up almost on impulse. Once things calmed down a bit, the more serious, cynical journalists got their hands on them. Eventually a consensus was reached that, while you could buy a new car for just six grand, you could also buy a much nicer used car for around the same money.

My suspicion is that the Royal Enfield Himalayan might suffer a similar fate. Right now, we’re all going crazy for the things and, on paper, it’s easy to see why. A brand-new air/oil-cooled 411cc single with a low seat height, genuine off-road capability, and impressive luggage capacity for just £4,200 on the road? Surely there must have been a mistake? The internet is already awash with videos of people loading them to the gills, throwing on a set of serious knobbly tyres and tearing off into the wilderness; the big-dollar BMW/KTM/Triumph adventuring experience for a quarter of the price.

While at our local Royal Enfield dealer, I saw a chap pull up on a Himalayan wearing what looked like a full set of very clean BMW adventure textiles. It occurred to me that someone who had already signed on the dotted line for a motorcycle that was just a few accessories short of costing £20,000 would probably not be too keen on risking their expensive new machine down a rutted country lane. One mistake, one surprise rock or rut and the repair bills could easily be in excess of what a whole Himalayan costs to buy outright. And so, in a way, this new Indian-made motorcycle might simply be the world’s most expensive set of crash bars.

Those of you who have recently sat down with a salesman in a European motorcycle dealership will have noted how little adding thousands of pounds of electronic suspension, heated seats and aluminium panniers seems to add to the proposed monthly payment. I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before some enterprising BMW dealership starts offering to roll a whole second motorcycle into that 3-year plan.

But does the Himalayan deserve better than this? Can it stand alone as a perfectly good motorcycle, a worthy competitor to our overwrought, over-complicated and over-priced Japanese and European machinery? Have the Indian-owned Royal Enfield finally got the hang of quality control and delivered a reliable, dependable, rugged motorcycle that we can be proud to put in our garages?

Judging that last point is normally very difficult on a carefully-controlled test-ride. Manufacturers, and by extension, their dealers, are understandably very careful to ensure that a potential customer has a flawless introductory experience that will encourage them to hand over their credit card at the end. Fortunately, the Himalayans we took out obliged by breaking down almost immediately, thereby putting the matter to rest.

My brother’s bike decided that throttles were for wimps and wedged itself wide open, refusing to be fixed and needing to be coaxed back to the dealership with the clutch. In addition, neither of us could read half of our instruments due to the significant condensation behind the glass on the displays – a common issue, according to the internet, and apparently preventable by greasing all the connectors to the clocks, but still not really something I would expect to have to do on a new machine.

The next black mark was for the brakes. We both discovered that stopping distances were far, far greater than we would expect, and had to haul on both lever and pedal rather brutally to prevent obstacles in front causing unplanned wheelbase reductions. The front brake has no feel and no bite, requiring the rider to simply squeeze the lever as hard as they can as far in advance as possible. The rear is the opposite – loads of feel and bite, but it locks up almost immediately, causing the ABS to cut power to the brake and rendering it essentially inoperative. It’s possible that the softer brakes might be ideal for use in dirt or gravel but on the road they’re simply not fit for purpose. Better pads might help, but again, it’s something that should have been resolved at the factory.

Things start looking better as we work our way down the parts list. The seat is surprisingly comfortable – even for pillions – and the riding position somehow works well both when sat down or stood up on the pegs. Combine that with an extremely low seat height that would allow most riders to rest both feet flat on the ground yet miraculously fails to result in my knees sticking up around my ears while on the move. Our shortened ride time did mean that an extended test would be required to confirm if things remained comfortable for longer trips.

The suspension was soft, but not sloppy, and probably a good fit for the sort of riding this bike was designed for. I’m quite sure that the higher cornering speeds possible with better tyres might cause wallowing but achieving those high speeds would be a challenge with the meagre 24bhp on offer.

That’s not to say that the Himalayan feels slow, as long as your expectations are realistic. The 411cc air/oil-cooled engine is surprisingly smooth and relatively punchy, feeling more like a slightly breathless V-twin than a thrashy single. There’s not a whole lot going on below 4,000rpm, even if it’s more tractable than plenty of larger multi-cylinder bikes I’ve ridden, but the show’s all over before the needle reaches 6K. Even then you can feel valve float setting in and distressing noises can be heard from the top-end before the tachometer is past 5,500, so the usable power band is surprisingly narrow. It’s just as well that the gear shift is accurate and the clutch light, as you’ll be using both frequently.

Speaking of the clutch, one modification I would have to do on day one would be an adjustable lever. The biting point on the Royal Enfield is somewhere just beyond my fingertips, meaning that those of us with smaller hands may find pulling away from a stop a matter of setting the revs and just letting go of the clutch entirely. The soft bite and small displacement mean that setting off isn’t too bad but low-speed manoeuvres inevitably lack accuracy.

Other than that, it has to be said that niggles, irritations and deal-breakers are notable by their absence. The Himalayan may not do anything spectacularly well, but neither does it fall noticeably short anywhere. The footpegs don’t get in your way when you set your feet down, and the side stand is easy to extend and retract, two tricks that plenty of bikes costing 3-4 times as much somehow struggle with. The windshield is well designed, if a little too short, and a small fairing would make motorway stints entirely manageable.

As standard it comes fitted with a pair of practical tank-mounted pannier rails, with an optional rear-mounted set and matching metal panniers available from your local dealer at a refreshingly low cost. The dashboard is fully-featured, offering an analogue tachometer and speedometer as well as various trip meters and even a compass – something I cannot recall having ever seen before on a production motorcycle. So far owners have been averaging almost 80mpg in mixed use, meaning that a 250-mile range is easily achievable from the relatively meagre 15 litre tank.

I would prefer to reserve judgement until I’ve had more time in the saddle, but my brother feels that the only test ride long enough would involve multiple border crossings and a few months of atmospheric exposure. All the enthusiastic video reviews online seem to be shot in the driest, dustiest parts of Utah or Arizona, and I can’t help but wonder how well this machine would survive a couple of wet British winters. Used Bullet 500’s seem to be either immaculate fair-weather bar-hoppers, or look like they’ve been dredged up from the bottom of a river.

I could excuse a lot about the Himalayan by recalling that I could take one home for just £4,200. I could excuse the cheap components, the list of urgent upgrades/repairs, and even the 3,000 mile service intervals that include a valve clearance check every single time. I can appreciate the rugged styling, practical touches, low seat height and impressive fuel economy, and I would probably struggle to point out a serious competitor at any other new-bike dealership.

The Honda CRF250L would come close for entry-level dirt capability, although luggage and pillion capability are comparatively non-existent. Triumph or Ducati’s latest small-capacity Scramblers would be just as capable off-road and far better on it, but are double the price. In fact, the biggest competition for this £4,000 new motorcycle is a £4,000 used motorcycle. And that is where, test-rides or not, things fall apart rather upsettingly for the Himalayan.

You see, you can buy a whole raft of used mid-capacity adventure bikes for around the same price and, with matching dirt-oriented tyres, would be no less capable off-road than the small-capacity Royal Enfield. There’s nowhere that I would take a Himalayan that I wouldn’t take my V-Strom 650 and you can buy those for £3k. It wouldn’t be new and it wouldn’t be covered under a warranty but experience has shown me that you wouldn’t actually need one in any case. It would shrug off a few winters, be more competent during the tarmac sections of your trip, and would likely feature fewer pre-existing issues that required your immediate attention.

Certainly, a BMW F700GS or Triumph Tiger 800 would weigh more than the Himalayan, but not by much – the small 411cc single manages to tip the scales at a surprisingly heavy 190kg. If the low seat height is what caught your attention, then might I suggest you leave the majority of your budget in your pocket and pick up an early Honda CB500 instead? Similar weight to the Enfield, similar seat height, but with double the cylinders, power and torque. Bolt on a set of crash bars, lever on some Mitas E7’s and hit the trails.

I think that the Royal Enfield Himalayan’s biggest triumph may be to demonstrate conclusively to the rest of us that you can take pretty much any bike anywhere as long as you don’t care if it gets a little beat up. It has reminded us that most off-roading is actually just gravel roads with a bit of grass; trails that do not require any of the trappings of a serious enduro machine.

There’s a chap circumnavigating the globe right now on a Ducati Scrambler – a motorcycle roundly mocked by off-road enthusiasts as a poser/hipster/city bike – and Nick Sanders has toured the length of Africa on a Yamaha R1. Charlie and Ewan took BMW R1150GS’s on their famous cross-continental adventures, but their cameraman got stuck far less on the piece-of-junk Russian motorcycle he picked up at a local market. As far as I can tell, the biggest problem the Royal Enfield Himalayan has is that we don’t actually need it.

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream January 2019

Riders Ride (November 2018)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Continuing our Rider’s Rides! Each month we feature a TVAM member and their bike, talk about why they chose that model, what they use it for, as well as what they like and dislike about it. Want to see your bike featured? Get in touch at pressofficer@slipstream.org

This month we have Jono Wiles and his Bonneville.

Well this looks familiar; but which specific flavour of bike are we looking at here?

It’s a 2016 Triumph Bonneville T120 Black edition.

And how long has this example been lurking in the shadows of your garage?

I bought it back in November last year.

Did this replace another bike, or is it an addition to your fleet?

Whilst I would love a garage full of bikes it’s my only ride! It replaced an older version of the Bonneville, an air-cooled T100 SE.

There’s a lot of choice in the retro/classics segment at the moment; did you go straight for an upgrade or consider anything else (e.g. Moto-Guzzi V7)?

As I had already ridden a Bonnie I didn’t look too closely at other options. As before, I wanted a classic-looking bike with modern performance, and personally think that Triumph have done a great job in creating a fantastic range of old-school-looking bikes. I do like the look of the Moto-Guzzi, and I also considered the BMW R-nineT, but I still feel Triumph pip them both on style, quality and reliability.

The older Bonneville’s were fairly basic bikes, tech-wise. Was there anything in particular you were hoping to get from this upgrade?

I loved my old Bonnie but it was missing some key features: ABS, traction control, heated grips etc. The new one is a comprehensive ground-up redesign with twin front brakes, electronic ride-by-wire system, riding modes, torque assist clutch, LED lights and, in the T120, a much more powerful 1200cc water-cooled engine. Combined, these make my new T120 a much more responsive, safe and powerful bike. The clutch is a dream and really light, which is great when riding for extended distances. The engine delivers 50% more torque and 20% more power than my old bike and sounds great with the pea-shooter style exhausts. Contrary to expectations, it also handles well on both twisties and the open road.

Sounds like you’re a big fan! I’m guessing you collected this one from an equally enthusiastic dealer?

Yep – I bought it from Laguna in Maidstone; at the time these models were hard to find second hand, and I didn’t want to buy new and take the hit on the initial depreciation.

How did that work out?

They were okay to start with, but after I got the bike home I noticed the hazard lights weren’t working. Laguna picked the bike up again, fixed the problem and got it back to me within three days but it was a bit annoying, to say the least. I have to question if they really performed the promised checks that were claimed to have been carried out, and one of the key reasons I wanted to buy from a dealer.

I normally stick to Jack Lilley Triumph in Ashford; they maintain my bikes as they are local and are a great bunch who I would thoroughly recommend. For example: when I took the T120 in for a recent service, I mentioned the front brakes squeaked a bit when used at low speed. Apparently this was a common problem for the early T120’s and Triumph issued a fix, but my bike was just a few months out of warranty by this point and so wouldn’t normally be covered.

But the guys at Jack Lilley called Triumph and persuaded them to sort it out at no cost, which they really didn’t have to do. Considering the fix included a new front wheel, discs and pads, which would have cost me £1,200 + fitting, I was understandably delighted. It shows that they really care about their customers. In fact, this was another thing Laguna should really have resolved before selling it to me five months earlier!

I’m no expert, but that bike looks a little different than the examples I’ve seen. Have you made some changes?

The Bonnie came with some modifications already fitted, such as a tail-tidy, different indicators, suspension and an upgraded Vance & Hines exhaust. I have since added a Dart fly-screen which makes a huge difference to wind buffering for such a small bit of plastic, and finally panniers to make it more suitable for touring.

So not just a Sunday cruiser then!

I only started riding two years ago when my best mate (who had ridden for years) arranged a biking trip to the US for his 50th. So I thought: why not? I passed my test and three months later I was riding an Indian Roadmaster 2,500 miles from Colorado, to California, passing through Ohio, Arizona and Nevada on our way to LA and San Francisco.

It was a fantastic experience on an absolute beast of a bike and a real baptism of fire. As a novice rider I learnt a lot very quickly, but it got me hooked and I have not looked back since. Since then I have been to Holland, France and Spain, and plan to go on at least one or two trips away each year from now on. The TT and Balkans are already in the diary for 2019!

The T120 is quite a bit more powerful than your old T100; has your riding changed at all as a result?

The T120 has allowed me to progress my riding – especially the cornering side – but I still see myself as a beginner, which is why I joined TVAM. Being a member gives me the opportunity to improve my capability as well as socialise and ride with a bunch of like-minded people. It’s been fantastic! Only a few weeks ago I went away on the ‘Let’s go to France’ trip for a long weekend. Expertly organised by John Rodda it was truly excellent. There were six of us altogether, everything was planned well, from the route to hotels and the daytime activities. Everyone looked out for each other and John was a brilliant tour leader.

Sorry I missed it! Did the trip highlight anything lacking that you missed from your old bike?

I certainly don’t miss the manual choke or woolly front brakes! But then this new bike had been customised by a company called 8 Ball who are commissioned by Triumph to fettle some of their bikes, so it looked mean and sounded great.

On the flip side, even with the indicators fixed they were still not great quality and rather small. Equally, whilst the rear light looked good and fit the aesthetic, it too was quite small, and I received some feedback during TVAM rides on how ineffective they both were. As such I have just swapped the tail tidy for an R&G racing set-up which was a bit pricey, but after doing some research it came back as the best option. It also allowed me to reinstall the rear grab-rail, which is handy for pillions or attaching extra luggage when touring. I then fitted some Triumph short-stem indicators which are both much brighter, making me far more visible to motorists.

Finally, the only other issue, common to all naked bikes, is that you can’t help but be somewhat envious of the fairings on big touring bikes while blasting down the motorway! But I suppose those are the choices we make and I wouldn’t swap my bike for anything.

So it sounds like you’re pretty pleased with your purchase then!

Yes – it’s perfect for me and the type of riding I want to do. So, whilst it wouldn’t suit everyone, I absolutely love this bike!!

Nick Tasker was talking to Jono Wiles earlier this summer.

First published in Slipstream November 2018

Intermot 2018

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Intermot, the Cologne International Motorcycle Show, has one key difference when compared to the other European bike shows – it only runs every other year. For one reason or another I’ve kept missing my window of opportunity, but this time I was finally able to line things up and book my tickets.

A short flight and a couple of nights at a local hotel are one option, but naturally I chose to take two extra days and use the bike instead. The Mosel and Eiffel are fantastic riding at any time of year, but in Autumn the scenery takes on an even more spectacular hue, with reds and oranges joining in amongst the stereotypical evergreens.

The show itself is broken up into two parts; a whole third of the floorspace was dedicated to a massive exhibition of custom bikes and culture, with beard trimming & haircuts offered alongside countless modified bikes and accessory stalls. The remaining four halls were dominated by motorcycle manufacturers large and small, with everything from oil, clothing and parts suppliers squeezed in between them.

New announcements were few and far between, with most manufacturers saving their high-profile launches for EICMA or their own carefully-controlled press events. Instead, shows like this, or our more local Motorcycle Live! serve as an opportunity to see and sit on every possible bike in one place, free from the presumptive interruptions of sales staff. So rather than working my way through the major players and simply listing what’s new, I’m going to take a slightly different tack this time.

The club is fortunate to have attracted many new members in the last few years, and I myself have had a number of people approach me for purchasing advice. Experienced motorcyclists know what’s available, have formed their own preferences over years of riding and sampled a broad cross-section of machinery. But what if you’re new to riding, passed your test recently and are riding a CBR600F purely because it caught your eye at a local dealer? A motorcycle show is the perfect opportunity to see the full range of motorcycles in one place, and be reminded of the sheer scale and variety of two-wheeled transportation.

So let’s take a quick, broad-brush scan of the main genres of motorcycle on show in Cologne, and remind ourselves what we might want to take a look at when heading to Motorcycle Live! in the coming week. I’ll pick out a recommended starting point for you newcomers, as well as a more left-field alternative for those that like to live more dangerously than the rest of us. But I should stress that nothing beats a test ride, and comparing the competition is the only way to figure out exactly which variant you will personally prefer.

Kawasaki ZX-6R

Supersports

Derived from a desire for maximum performance, a modern sportsbike sacrifices almost everything in the pursuit of getting the rider around their local racetrack at the maximum possible speed. Comfort, tank range, luggage capacity – any semblance of practicality is entirely secondary, which often means that on-road riding is severely compromised.

And let’s face it, if you’re reading this, then most of your riding probably happens on potholed public tarmac. Twenty years ago, sportsbikes were the only way to get half-way decent engine, braking and suspension performance, and more road-focused designs meant that the compromises weren’t half as drastic. But in 2018, the stands are full of bikes of every stripe that could thrash a GSX-R from a decade ago along any stretch of road you care to mention.

There’s certainly a purity of sensation that comes from riding a sportsbike; that feeling that your hands are gripping the front axle, not a set of clip-ons a half-metre further up. But don’t kid yourself that you “need” one for road riding – not anymore. Buy one because you love how they look, you love how they sound, and are addicted to that startling top-end rush that only comes from a screaming inline-four at 12,000RPM and above. Buy one because you want one; squeeze into your leathers and pretend you’re winning the TT on your way to work.

The bike to beat remains BMW’s S1000RR, and rumours of an impending update mean that deals are doubtlessly available. If you fancy something more exotic, Ducati’s recently-released Panigale V4 will be sure to delight and terrify in equal measure.

Naked

Motorcycling is all about the sensations you can experience when you’re out in the elements. The sights, the smells, the feel of the wind tugging on your clothing and the mechanical sounds and sensations of your bike beneath you. While any motorcycle devoid of fairing is technically “naked”, this genre of biking tends to refer to performance-oriented machines with more upright riding positions and minimal wind protection.

Time was that manufacturers would simply tear the plastics off their latest sportsbike, replace the clip-ons with handlebars, soften the suspension and de-tune the engine for a less “focused” power delivery. These days, the naked bike is just as likely to be an orphan, designed and built from the ground up to be a performance street machine.

And therein lies the truth of it; the differences here mean that naked bikes are generally much better road bikes, their lack of wind protection only becoming an issue when at very high speeds or on a racetrack, where their erstwhile cousins come into their own. Handlebars are better for slower, tighter roads than fast, flowing corners, and the comfier suspension can better deal with the imperfect tarmac we face on a daily basis. They’re not as pretty as sportsbikes though…

Recommendations here are tough as, unlike the ultra-focused sportsbike world, there is real breadth to the naked category. I’ve personally got a soft spot for the Suzuki SV650, especially now that it’s finally got the upgraded front brakes it’s always deserved. The Triumph Street Triple is something of a benchmark, although I resent the 17kg weight gain that accompanied last year’s redesign. The left-field suggestion would be the new KTM Duke 790, the Austrian brand’s first parallel twin and, apparently, an absolute riot to ride.

Adventure-Tourers

What do you buy if you want to circumnavigate the globe, riding through swamps, jungles, deserts and tundra? You buy a Honda CRF250L. There; you’re welcome. What you don’t buy is a quarter-ton of gadget-laden German behemoth and pretend it’s a dirt bike.

It’s impossible to discuss the Adventure segment without BMW’s synonymous R1200GS, now swollen to 1,250cc in its latest iteration. The rise of the Adventure bike is the fall of the sportsbike, as people who bought into the racing fantasy decided that the round-the-world fantasy was a more comfortable and surprisingly practical alternative. The two-wheeled equivalent of a Range Rover Sport, no true off-road enthusiast would ever consider one seriously, even if their dirt-oriented performance is often surprisingly impressive. Instead, the attraction for most lies in how good they are at pretty much everything else.

Suzuki V-Strom

BMW R nineT

Triumph Street Cup

Moto Guzzi V85TT

They’re touring bikes that weigh less. They’re naked bikes with more wind protection, space for a pillion and massive panniers. They’re tall enough to see over cars and powerful enough to overtake whole strings of traffic in an instant. Big tanks often mean long stints between fuel stops, and heated grips and hand-guards make bad weather a non-issue. If your wallet is thick enough, you can even enjoy the very latest electronic gadgets – electronic suspension, cruise control, self-aiming cornering lights…the list is practically endless.

At the other end of the spectrum, those with less extravagant tastes can enjoy smaller, simpler, and, crucially, cheaper options. Tall seat heights can be an issue, though many manufacturers have begun offering lowered seats and suspension. They’re also not the prettiest bikes in the world, with styling having come at the very bottom of the list of priorities when the engineers were drawing up their plans.

Let’s face it, the BMW R1250GS is the benchmark here, even if you’ll end up losing it amongst the sea of nearly identical bikes at your local cafe. Many people opt for something else, just to be different, but you’d be doing yourself a disservice by ignoring it. Or you could go in the other direction, and try out a Kawasaki Versys 650. Cheap suspension, and the stock seat isn’t fantastic, but it’s cheap and utterly hilarious to ride fast. Try one.

Sports-Tourers

Your hardcore trackday enthusiast would probably describe a 2002 Honda Fireblade as a sports-tourer. It looks like a modern sportsbike, but has a more comfortable seat, higher clip-ons, space for a pillion and somewhere to strap luggage. I wonder if we’ll be making similar comparisons about our current razor-sharp race-replicas in 2030?

Sports tourers are, in essence, sports bikes that you could tour on without enduring crippling pain half-way through the first day. Riders who can’t stand the look of adventure tourers but can’t handle the riding position of a true sports bike for hours on end will delight in discovering that very few compromises are necessary as long as your preferred tarmac is publicly-owned.

Those compromises mean more weight, as stiffer frames are needed to carry luggage and passenger. Larger fuel tanks mean less time looking for petrol, and wider seats mean your backside won’t notice that you’re stopping less frequently. This, plus the more protective fairing, means that they’re always larger, heavier machines than the lithe super sports they visually ape. They’re not perfect: clip-ons, even raised ones, aren’t always comfortable for those short of arm, and limited steering lock can make low-speed manoeuvres challenging.

Of course, some people would argue that the line between sports tourers and some adventure tourers becomes blurred as the former becomes more upright and the latter grows more fairing. Hybrids definitely exist, and could arguably be the best of both worlds for those who aren’t as interested in the lifestyle imagery of either extreme.

The Kawasaki Z1000SX is the place to start here; it’s been a best seller since its inception, which means that the classifieds are full of options for the used buyer, and the latest model has had plenty of owner feedback steering its development. Change those horrible Dunlop tyres immediately though; feedback here is universally damning. The left-field choice in this case has to be the Yamaha Tracer 900GT; very much a hybrid machine, and very much a fantastic motorcycle, if you can get comfortable with the taller stance.

Tourers

So you like the weather protection and clean lines of a faired motorcycle, but have a lot of miles to cover. Also, you aren’t necessarily as interested in dragging your knee around the local hairpins when you arrive. Shuffle the priorities around, make comfort and luggage for two the ultimate goal and you end up with a full-sized touring bike. Chances are, in fact, that you’ll end up on a Honda Goldwing.

Practically inventing the format when it grew a full fairing in the 80’s and the bike that everyone points to as the stereotypical example even now, it characterises the concept better than any other motorcycle. Huge tank; massive, comfy seats; enormous fairing and cavernous luggage; and, finally, an oversized engine to haul its impressive weight around. This combination also scales down quite successfully, and it’s hard to spot the point at which you can tack the word “sports” on to the beginning of “tourer” as you move down in size.

I would argue that the tipping point is when the journey starts to matter more than the destination. If you reach the top of the B500 in the Black Forest and wish that your bike were lighter and more involving to ride, then you’ve gone too far in the touring direction. If you’re happy to look at the scenery as you entertain the wildlife with your on-board speaker system and don’t mind slowing down a mite for the corners, then you probably chose well.

While the Goldwing is the King, the truth is that you might want to start your search at the BMW K1600GT. Regularly updated, loaded with gadgets and with tremendous performance, it’ll surely get you to where you’re going quickly and in maximum comfort. The left-field choice here, depressingly, is another BMW – the R1200RT. Leaning dangerously close to the “sports” side, it provides a lighter-duty alternative and should definitely be sampled.

Indian Scout

Cruisers

It’s common that a genre is defined by a particular bike, but Cruisers are defined by a brand. Harley-Davidson has been making motorcycles for more than a century, and detractors would joke that their bikes haven’t changed much in that time. And from a certain angle, it’s true; cruisers are defined as much by their aesthetics just as other categories of motorcycle, but no other genre has had to make so many concessions in pursuit of its particular style.

While the chrome, feet-forward riding position and long, low chassis have all been proven to be mostly optional over the years, the air-cooled narrow-angle v-twin engine remains something of an anachronistic necessity. It’s also a ticking timebomb, cooling after a long ride while manufacturers wonder how much longer they can squeeze the designs through emissions regulations. It’ll be a shame as, to those that enjoy them, there’s an indelible character to an air-cooled twin, one that makes them extremely enjoyable to use, even if they’re not terribly powerful.

In any case, most manufacturers decided not to wait and killed off their cruiser lines in the UK years ago, and only the recently-revived Indian remains as a real competitor. Broadly split into naked and semi-faired versions, cruisers are surprisingly similar to sportsbikes in that practicality and comfort takes second place to a primary focus: in this case, an aesthetic ideal.

A full-dress tourer will give you Goldwing-matching comfort, luggage capacity and unfortunately the weight to go along with the image. Lose the fairing and you’ve got a whole swathe of configurations to suit every taste, as long as you enjoy lots of exposed metal. Cruisers are heavy, slow, have limited ground clearance and suspension travel, but enjoy low seat heights and relaxed riding positions in exchange. They’re very much a matter of personal, even acquired, taste but if you don’t like it, you can always change it. Cruiser culture is inextricably enmeshed with the custom scene, something that Harley-Davidson has wholly embraced; their 2019 accessories catalogue is almost two inches thick…

It’s hard to recommend a particular model here, because the devil really is in the detail and personal taste is so much of a factor when shopping for cruisers. I’m very taken by the Harley-Davidson Sport-Glide, which matches the stripped-back cruiser aesthetic with a modicum of touring capability and an awesome engine. The left-field choice would be the Kawasaki Vulcan, with a water-cooled parallel-twin 650cc engine borrowed from the manufacturer’s own Versys & Ninja 650’s. Comfy, punchy, light and fun.

Royal Enfield Interceptor

Classics

Harley-Davidson should have been owning this segment, but their marketing department changes direction like an overloaded oil tanker. The explanations for the popularity of bikes that look and feel like those from fifty years ago are many and varied, but the numbers speak for themselves. Customers love the look, sound and feel of old bikes, but would find living with a genuine classic a real culture shock; modern interpretations of those motorcycles tend not to constantly leak oil and require riders to clean condensers and re-gap spark plugs at the side of the road.

This means that bikes that are still built like it’s the 1960’s – I’m looking at you, Royal Enfield – often don’t quite find the audience they hope for. Conversely, simple styling jobs on top of, otherwise modern, water-cooled nakeds fall similarly flat. And while, like with cruisers, actual performance takes a relaxed back seat to aesthetic priorities, we’ve reached a point in motorcycle development that the compromises are becoming less and less noticeable.

When power output, cornering capability, braking performance and even suspension take second fiddle to making the rider feel cool, the engineers are often left with little to work with. Steel tube frames, spoked wheels and classic-style engine casings are all heavier than their modern alternatives, dulling potential performance. But modern engineering is now so good that the results – even with these illogical handicaps – can be quite impressive. All that competing engineering costs money however – what look like very basic, no-frills motorcycles can frequently carry hefty price tags.

If the aesthetic appeals to you, just be aware of what you’re getting into and also be aware that compromises are going to be necessary. Choose well and you’ll find that you’re able to keep up with your riding buddies just fine on real roads and will look good doing it. It’s also a broad enough segment that you can probably find a classic that caters, at least somewhat, to your needs. There are sporty classics, touring classics and classics that will make a simple trip to the shops a memorable adventure.

While I have plenty of personal issues with the Triumph Bonneville T120, it is the segment-defining model. Impressive performance, despite its appearance; just make sure that you’re aware of the shortcomings and try one for yourself before buying. The left-field choice here would have to be Royal Enfield Interceptor; not yet available, admittedly, but a new UK-designed 650cc twin for around £5k could excuse an awful lot of sloppy welds.

Something Else

Lest we forget, grouping motorcycles into genres like this is extremely subjective, and the previously mentioned grey areas between them mean that motorcycling is more of a multi-dimensional spectrum than a series of neatly-defined categories. I choose to think of them as points on a compass, extremes to refer to so that newcomers might understand the full width and breadth of the choices available to them. Gaps exist and can sometimes be filled by buying something close and then modifying it to more closely fit your particular needs.

But the most important thing is knowing what you want and why well in advance of when you start shopping. Yes, a particular bike may catch your eye aesthetically, but it’s your butt that’s got to sit in the seat and your wallet that has to pay for it. Figure out what you’re hoping to do with your new bike, taking into account what you did with your old bike and make sure that you’re not repeating old mistakes.

Note what is popular and find out why others like the bikes they do; their tastes and needs might not align with yours. When someone recommends something, consider the lens through which they are viewing it – few people will consciously admit to themselves that they bought the wrong bike, never mind admit it to others! Which is a long-winded way of saying that everyone should buy a Suzuki V-Strom 650, because it’s obviously perfect!

Nick Tasker

Originally published in Slipstream November 2018

Rider’s Rides (October 2018)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Continuing our Rider’s Rides! Each month we feature a TVAM member and their bike, talk about why they chose that model, what they use it for, as well as what they like and dislike about it. Want to see your bike featured? Get in touch at pressofficer@slipstream.org

This month we have John Rodda and his mighty BMW Tourer.

And which flavour of Bavarian boxer do we have here then?

This is my BMW R1200RTLE.

Did it replace an existing bike, or is this an addition to your garage?

The RT replaces my previous bike, a BMW R1200GS Adventure Triple Black. I prefer the weather protection, ride comfort and seating position of the RT. I’ve had a fair number of these models in the past, so I knew what to expect.

My Uncle has a similar love affair with the boxer. Did you consider anything else, say a K1600?

I looked at BMW’s S1000XR – but only briefly. I’ve owned a K1600 and an R1200GS in the past. Both are excellent machines, but the RT seems to suit my purposes particularly well.

How so?

Great comfort, load capacity, fuel range and amazing handling for a machine of this size and weight. The RT also has great presence on the road, and therefore is a little more likely to be seen than smaller sports bikes.

Which dealer delivered this one to you?

BMW Bahnstormer in Maidenhead.

And would you recommend them to other TVAM members?

Yes, plenty of TVAM customers use Bahnstormer already, and are offered a discount on clothing and accessories.

Good to know! The bike looks stock, but have you got any modifications I missed?

I’ve installed a Roadhawk bullet camera tucked almost out of sight on the front fairing, which records witness footage on a continuous loop whenever the bike ignition is turned on.

Sneaky! What sort of riding do you do/plan on doing with this bike?

Anything and everything, from observed rides with my associate to an upcoming tour of France and adjacent countries, as well as motorcycle marshalling on cycle races and other events with the National Escort Group.

Is this different from the sort of riding/trips you used your previous bikes for?

Not really. My motorcycles are part of daily life – not just as transport, but for coaching, tour leading and leisure too.

Anything amiss with your new bike so far?

Nothing much. My previous RT suffered with condensation in the instrument panel, but my current machine is fine so far. Previous experiences with the dealer have always been positive whenever I’ve had a problem, so if anything crops up I know I’ll be looked after.

Overall then, no regrets?

I’m absolutely delighted to be back on an RT. It seems to be the bike that suits me best out of all I’ve ridden, and as an added bonus this version is so far returning more than 60mpg!

 

Nick Tasker was talking to John Rodda earlier this summer.

First published in Slipstream October 2018

How to Survive your First Trackday

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

During the very first NEC motorcycle show I attended after bringing home my shiny new Triumph Street Triple R, my brother and I bought our very first sets of leathers. That may seem bizarre to those of you for whom that has always been your standard biking attire, but for many of us whose biking role models were Ewan McGregor rather than Kevin Schwanz, textiles are the default. The plan was to do our first trackday that following summer, but it’s amazing how easily something like that is put off, again and again.

Fast-forward to 2018 and Pat Coneley persuaded me to give his Road Skills Day at Thruxton a go, which aside from a single session at Brand’s Hatch and a terrifying lap of the Nürburgring, was my first real on-track experience. But as you’ll know if you’ve attended one of these yourselves, that was not a trackday. Riding a V-Strom and wearing textiles, we were limited to 100mph with artificial chicanes and had braking and turn-in markers laid out for us to aim for. Remember: Road Skills Day!

I learnt a lot from my instructor, and the experience as a whole, not least of which that it is possible to ride around a racetrack all day without crashing. What’s more, if I could do it on Michelin Pilot Road 5’s on skinny adventure-bike wheels, then it should be even easier on my Triumph. With my girlfriend itching to drag me along to a ‘proper’ trackday, I had run out of excuses, and so signed up for the No Limits Novice group, and prepared to depart for Mallory Park.

I packed a water bottle, tyre pressure gauge and compressor, along with a handful of cereal bars and sandwiches before setting the alarm for 5am. With sign-on at 7:30 and a planned petrol stop just before reaching the track I needed to leave plenty of time to arrive fueled-up and ready for the safety briefing.

As it happened, I needn’t have worried – traffic is understandably light that early in the morning, and unlike almost everyone else who had arrived in the paddock, I had no van to unload, no tyre-warmers to attach and no maintenance to perform. I had even printed and filled out the requested paperwork in advance, something I soon discovered made me practically unique amongst my fellow riders!

After dropping off the forms and collecting the appropriately coloured wristband, I had some time to kill, and began chatting to the other riders I was sharing the garage with. All were trackday veterans, despite several having placed themselves in the same Novice Group as I. Given that I was expecting to be sharing my sessions with nervous riders wobbling around on a variety of inappropriate machinery, this was certainly something of a surprise.

Looking around the crowd at the safety briefing was also enlightening – the vast majority of riders were men in their 40’s, with a few younger riders and two women. Despite this depressing gender imbalance, the sexist banter I was expecting failed to materialise, with my girlfriend experiencing nothing but friendly helpfulness all day. Aside from a few people mistakenly assuming that it was I, not her, riding the tricked-out Fireblade, there was no trace of the prejudice or stereotyping that often follows female riders wherever they go.

Noise testing (another item I had concerns about) proved another non-issue. My Street Triple on it’s after-market Scorpion exhaust had been measured at 105db by the over-zealous tester at Brand’s Hatch, leading me to suspect I’d never pass the 103db maximum allowed at Mallory Park. Assurances from my mechanic proved true however, with the baffled exhaust measuring just 97db when tested according to ACU regulations. If you’ve got a trackday of your own planned, I recommend getting your bike tested ahead of time, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear some fairly noisy bikes fly through under the limit.

When the tannoy called out for Novice riders to come to the pits, I was certainly nervous. How would I know when to brake and when to turn in? Without the usual roadside furniture of trees and streetlights, and the ever-present road-markings, how would I know how fast I was going? My major recollection from the single session at Brand’s Hatch was that the tarmac seemed to go on forever in every direction and that corners came at you out of nowhere. I was worried that I would low-side in the very first bend. I needn’t have worried.

The fact is, the track was very easy to read. Coloured rumble strips on the apexes of all the corners made the edges of the track easy to spot, and after a couple of sighting laps I was already winding the engine up to the limiter and leaning more, all while looking for overtaking opportunities past slower riders. Everything I’d learned at Thruxton came back to me, with braking and turn-in points easy to figure out after a few corners. The trick, just as then, was to start slow and build speed gently over time.

At the end of my first twenty-minute session, I was surprised to discover how warm I was, despite the cool morning air and uninsulated leathers. Remembering the advice on the Road Skills Day I’d brought along – and proceeded to drink – plenty of water, and topped up my energy with a cereal bar or two between sessions. With each of the three groups running back-to-back, I only had limited time to cool off and admire the shrinking chicken strips on my rear tyre before the call to the pit lane rang out once more.

After my second trip out I was already lapping some riders in my group, and out-braking most others in some of the tighter turns. The forward planning and smooth riding we learn from our Observers is just as important on track, and there were quite a few riders on track that day who could benefit from some advanced training. The long, fast corners were giving me difficulty, however, so it was time to seek expert advice specific to track riding.

Noise testing (another item I had concerns about) proved another non-issue. My Street Triple on it’s after-market Scorpion exhaust had been measured at 105db by the over-zealous tester at Brand’s Hatch, leading me to suspect I’d never pass the 103db maximum allowed at Mallory Park. Assurances from my mechanic proved true however, with the baffled exhaust measuring just 97db when tested according to ACU regulations. If you’ve got a trackday of your own planned, I recommend getting your bike tested ahead of time, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear some fairly noisy bikes fly through under the limit.

When the tannoy called out for Novice riders to come to the pits, I was certainly nervous. How would I know when to brake and when to turn in? Without the usual roadside furniture of trees and streetlights, and the ever-present road-markings, how would I know how fast I was going? My major recollection from the single session at Brand’s Hatch was that the tarmac seemed to go on forever in every direction and that corners came at you out of nowhere. I was worried that I would low-side in the very first bend. I needn’t have worried.

The fact is, the track was very easy to read. Coloured rumble strips on the apexes of all the corners made the edges of the track easy to spot, and after a couple of sighting laps I was already winding the engine up to the limiter and leaning more, all while looking for overtaking opportunities past slower riders. Everything I’d learned at Thruxton came back to me, with braking and turn-in points easy to figure out after a few corners. The trick, just as then, was to start slow and build speed gently over time.

I tracked down one of the instructors on offer at the end of the second session, and requested some pointers. When I lined up for the third time he told me to follow him for the first three laps, after which he would beckon me to overtake and then follow for the rest of the session. His lines through the corners weren’t drastically different to mine, but there was definitely room for fine-tuning.

I caught up with the instructor afterwards and he advised me that I wasn’t hanging off the bike enough, wasn’t taking the faster corners tight enough, and wasn’t using the whole of the track on corner exit, demonstrating that there was far more speed to be had there. I was also losing time by braking too late at the end of the long straight, and therefore making a mess of the corner entry and putting myself on too-wide a line for Gerard’s. While I was already faster than most of my group through the corners, the vast majority of riders were on faster, more powerful bikes and I had my work cut out trying to overtake on the straights.

My instructor pointed out that overtaking on corners was fine as long as I was giving the bikes in front enough room. With a wide track and no oncoming traffic to worry about, I was able to start picking bikes off in the bends, even passing a couple on the inside who took overly wide lines through the hairpin. It turns out all that Alpine practice had paid off!

While timing equipment was officially banned, I’d sneakily left my smartphone running a data recorder throughout the day, so that I could confirm that I was indeed improving session by session. Sure enough, laptimes were slowly dropping as lean angles increased, and only started to climb again when I began pushing myself to go fast, rather than focusing on riding smoothly in some of the later sessions. Thanks to this telemetry I was able to check myself and return to working on my technique. Go smooth to go fast!

As the final sessions approached, I began to notice worrying behaviour from some of my fellow riders. While I myself wasn’t particularly fatigued, due to many years of conditioning from 400-mile touring days, other riders were exhibiting symptoms of overconfidence or reduced concentration. Twice I had people try to outbrake me into the S-bends and then aim for the escape route instead. After having seen what can happen when two riders collided earlier in the day, I decided to pass on the very last session. Unlike many of these race-fairing equipped hotshots, I needed my bike to get home…

The final question was this. After a day of 100mph+ speeds and 45-degree lean angles, would I find returning to public roads and the constraints of the highway code irritating, or even impossible? Many of those I spoke to at the track no longer rode motorcycles on the roads, and some of the younger ones didn’t even have bike licenses. I’d heard about people finding traffic and other hazards too much to deal with after the relative calm and safety of the racetrack. I’m please to say that I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home, and found the speed limits no more onerous than usual.

In truth, while I learned more about myself and my bike from the TVAM Road Skills Day, riding around Mallory Park was tremendous fun and an education to boot. I’ve still got plenty more to work on (I never did get my knee down!) and I’ve confirmed once and for all that the limit isn’t my bike, it’s very definitely still me.

Would I do it again? You bet I would. I’m already booked in at Donnington Park…

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream October 2018

Riders Ride (September 2018)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Each month we’re going to feature a TVAM member and their bike, talk about why they chose that model, what they use it for, as well as what they like and dislike about it.

Get in touch at pressofficer@slipstream.org

This month we have Cliff Lester and his box-fresh FireBlade:

Welcome, Cliff! What exactly are we looking at here today?

This is my newish Honda Fireblade, specifically the SP1 model.

And how long has this been gracing your garage?

A couple of months.

Did this replace another bike, or is it an addition to the garage?

It’s a replacement for my previous bike, a BMW S1000RR. I’d only had it for two years, but I really fancied the new ‘Blade.

Sportsbike enthusiasts are spoilt for choice at the moment – what else did you look at when shopping?

I considered the Yamaha R1M, as well as the new Ducati Panigale V4S and Aprilia RSV4 Factory.

Honda beat out some very trick hardware then! No interest in the new Suzuki GSXR-1000, Kawasaki ZX-10R, or perhaps another BMW?

Not really; I’ve experienced the BMW already, and owned three ZX10’s in the past! Plus I’m not really a lover of the GSXR…

Anything in particular you were evaluating the bikes on when you were conducting your test-rides?

Rideabilty, as well as quality of the suspension and brakes. Also ease of electronics – the BMW has the tech, but it’s not always easy to use.

Which dealer did you purchase your new Fireblade from? Would you recommend them to other TVAM members?

Fowlers of Bristol. As for recommending them, I would, and I wouldn’t. I had good service when buying the bike but paid for both a tail tidy and radiator guard to be fitted as part of the deal. When I came to collect it they’d fitted the tail tidy but said they didn’t have time for the radiator guard! I wasn’t very impressed.

That is rather disappointing. Have you made any further modifications or installed any accessories since then?

I’ve fitted a World SuperBike Akrapovic slip-on exhaust, as well as a double-bubble screen, but that’s it for now.

What sort of riding do you do/plan on doing with this bike?

There’s a group of us that go on regular A road runs, so more of that for sure. We’ve also been on our annual Le Mans MotoGP trip together; I found the ‘Blade to be amazing on the twisty French roads. I’ve also enjoyed a few track days and A runs with TVAM group – it’s perfect for all that stuff.

Has purchasing this bike changed the sort of riding you do, or how you ride?

No, I’ve always had sports bikes, so I’ve always ridden like this. The Honda has improved my cornering confidence slightly, as this bike is so easy to ride – it feels like it’s on rails!

Is there anything you miss from your S1000RR?

The heated grips and cruise control – they should really be standard at this price. But other than that I do feel that it’s a better bike.

Can you elaborate on that? What about the Honda makes it so special?

The ease of the ride, up & down quick-shifter is so smooth and never misses a beat. The dashboard is beautifully done – so easy to read and adjusting any of your setups is a piece of cake. The Öhlins suspension is incredible (as usual) and the brakes are fantastic. It’s an all-round amazing bike.

What’s the one thing about your bike you would change if you could?

I’ve changed the things that needed changing – the usual things I always do on a bike. But nothing else, it looks lovely and goes well.

Any problems or technical issues with all that electronic wizardry?

Well I’ve only put 1,500 miles on it so far and everything is good for the moment. No problems at all!

So it sounds like you’re pretty pleased with your purchase?

Extremely pleased. It’s the first Fireblade I’ve ever owned and I love it.

Nick Tasker was talking to Cliff Lester in June this year.

First published in Slipstream September 2018

20 Things You Should Know about Riding in Canada

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

I think many of us have pushed beyond our borders to explore Europe. Out there await wide, open stretches of dusty French countryside, verdant green German forests and snowy alpine mountain hairpins. But how many of us have pushed further than that, ventured away from our continent into Africa, Asia or America?

I recently returned from a three-week family visit to Canada; a country known for its vast tracts of sparsely populated land, where bears outnumber the people and Tim Hortons coffee & donut shops outnumber the bears. While there, I had the opportunity to borrow my Uncle’s Moto Guzzi Norge 1200, a bike no longer sold on these shores, and learn a little bit about motorcycling in Canada. Let’s just say the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.

  • Motorcycling & air travel work surprisingly well. Parking is often free, security is good, and helmets don’t count towards your traditional carry-on luggage allowance.
  • Petrol is cheap, but everyone still complains about the price. At last count, you’re looking at around 70p per litre, although if you refuel on Indian Reservations it’s cheaper still.
  • …and it comes in many flavours. Do you know what octane-rating your motorcycle needs? 85? 87? 93? According to your owner’s manual, it’s probably 91, or 97 if you own a modern BMW, but everyone here just buys the cheapest grade anyway. I hope their knock sensors are working.
  • The cars are enormous. The pick-up trucks we see on British roads are dwarfed by those driven in Canada & the US, and after a while you start to think of the Porsche Cayenne as an adorable compact car.
  • Filtering is illegal. And people really, really don’t like it when you do it. You can sit in traffic in 30C+ heat like everyone else…minus the air conditioning.
  • Speed limits are patronisingly low. We complain about Oxford nationals, but let me put things into perspective. Motorways are 60mph, A-roads are 50mph, and B-roads are usually 30mph. Around town 20-25mph is the norm. And it gets worse…
  • The Police don’t mess around. I was fortunate not to encounter this personally, but the police take an extremely dim view of speeding, and lurk behind billboards and trees with radar guns to catch you coming a mile away.
  • Every junction has a Stop sign. And boy, will they nail you for rolling through one of these. They’re everywhere, and particularly galling when a) you can see for half a mile in every direction and no-one is coming and b) you will have to repeat this stop/start pantomime a dozen times just to cross a small town, even when there are no other cars on the road.
  • Most roads are long and straight. In a country this large, be prepared to go cross-eyed staring at the horizon for hours on end.
  • No-one cares what you ride. Here in the UK cruiser riders won’t wave back, and sports-bike riders seem to ignore anyone not similarly equipped. In Canada, everyone waves!
  • Can-Am sell a lot of Spyders. The three-wheelers never really caught on here, but if you can’t filter, petrol is cheap, speed limits are low and parking is plentiful, then the disadvantages of the larger, heavier vehicles evaporate. They still can’t lean, though…
  • Everything else is a cruiser. It’s not quite as Harley-centric as the US, but pretty close.
  • All motorcycles look showroom-fresh. No-one rides in winter due to months of -30C temperatures and several feet of snow, and no-one rides in the rain because motorcycles are just recreational vehicles over there. That means no rust, no corrosion of any kind – you’ve never seen such a clean 2002 Kawasaki Ninja 250.
  • Canada has no annual MOT. You have to get a safety inspection when you first buy your vehicle (new or used), but after that it’s up to the owner to do their own checks. Or not, as the case may be. If you borrow someone else’s car or bike, don’t assume their brakes work, or that any other critical safety equipment is functional.
  • Safety gear is very optional. I saw a few people wearing jackets and gloves, though I’m unconvinced that they would have stood up to anything beyond a bit of light gardening. Helmets are open-face, often pudding-bowl design, and sandals are not uncommon.
  • Learners can ride whatever they want. Canada has graduated licensing, but the only limitations are that lower-class license holders aren’t allowed on motorways. 500-600cc motorcycles are considered good beginners’ bikes, and watching people wobble away from the training centre on brand-new, big-twin Harleys is a common (and comedic) sight.

Showroom sparkling

Big on cruisers…

… of any shape and size.

No-one is paying attention. Long, straight roads, cruise-control and ultra-soft suspension combined with low speed limits mean that even I found myself reaching for my mobile phone while out driving my uncle’s truck. Rest assured I stopped myself in time and re-focused on the road, but it goes a long way to explaining the continent’s ‘distracted driving’
You can turn right on red lights. This is fantastic. You’re driving on the right, so if it’s safe to do so you can trundle right through that red light rather than waiting pointlessly.

Good riding is hard to come by. Interesting riding can be scarce, and it’s likely that you’ll need to travel a great distance – several days or more – to find the really good stuff. The local riders just ride the motorways from one Tim Hortons to another Tim Hortons; stopping to eat a donut and admire each other’s chrome before heading on to the next one.

Tarmac is optional. Gravel roads are common once you get away from the main routes, and it’s not uncommon to encounter patches of sand or gravel mid-corner out in the countryside.

I’m told that pushing on to the Rockies will give you some of the most spectacular riding of your life, and that the best riding can be found off-road, out in the endless wilderness or spectacular national parks. But Canada will warp your sense of scale; the entirety of the UK would comfortably fit inside the smallest Canadian province, so simply getting to those roads will eat up your whole trip. Your nearest trackway is several day’s drive away.

After riding in Canada, even the M1 will seem like a cornucopia of excitement, variation and engagement. It was nice to visit my family, but I couldn’t wait to ride my own bike back at home again.

 

Nick Tasker

First published in Slipstream August 2018

Riders Ride (April 17)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

This month we have Oliver King, one of our RideUp candidates, and his shiny red Yamaha.

So Oliver, what make and model of bike are we looking at here?

A Yamaha MT07.

And how long have you had this bike?

Since September 2016, so about 5000 miles.

Was this purchased new then?

Yes, brand new. I bought it through Yamaha finance, over three years, my first bike

And what made you choose that particular bike?

For a start, the size was quite a big thing. I’ve sat on larger bikes and always hated the weight of them, and so I chose that one because of weight and size. And secondly because it was less expensive than a lot of other bikes, like your Street Triple for example, which I did look at. I also looked at a KTM 390 but I went with Yamaha for reliability as well, it’s a good name. And it looked awesome!

Why did you decide to go new rather than used?

Mainly because of the finance. I couldn’t put six grand up front in one big bulk payment, and it would’ve taken me about two years to build up that amount of cash to put down on a first bike. I know I’m going to have it for a long time, so I thought if I’m going to be the first owner, all the mods I put on it will be mine.

So you weren’t tempted to look at something like a ten-year-old SV650, for example? Because you could probably get one of those for £2k…

No, I wasn’t tempted. I did look at second-hand bikes, but I thought, it’s my first bike, and I love the cool bikes that are coming out at the moment, and I didn’t want some knackered old thing. I’d probably buy a second-hand car, but a bike is my own, this one’s always been mine, all the things I’ve put on it are for me. No one else has done anything, they’re all my miles.

So which dealer did you pick this Yamaha up from?

There’s one in Ipswich called Orwell Motorcycles, they’re a Suzuki, Kawasaki, and Yamaha dealership. They do loads of bikes, but there is a dealer in Bury St Edmunds, which is actually where I live, who also sell Yamahas, but the customer service was awful. I was immediately put off and drove to Ipswich and bought a bike from Orwell instead. It’s the same bike, same offer, it’s just they were much friendlier, so I bought from them.

That’s a strong incentive to prioritise the customer service if there ever was one!

Yes, exactly!

You talked about making modifications to your bike, what have you done so far?

The first thing I did was add the LED indicators, to be brighter. I put them on the finance with the bike, and the dealer stuck them on before I got it. I changed the coloured side panels on the front mudguard, they used to be red, I changed those to be black so it’s just the tank that is red. Then I added the Akropovic exhaust, which completely changes it. I went straight home and pulled the baffle out and started it up. I immediately regretted the decision but couldn’t figure out how to put the baffle back in, so I just carried on! I’m glad I kept it out in the end, but going from a stock exhaust to an Akropovic with the baffle out was quite a big jump, so…

You may want to dig that one out for when MOT time comes!

Exactly…

Have you got any further modifications planned for the future?

A radiator guard, I’d quite like to get one to protect the radiator.

How come, why do you feel it needs protecting?

There’s a lot of grit in it, it’s a pain to clean it. Also talking to the guys here, lots of them say a radiator guard is a good idea, because it can get damaged quite easily. And then, a windscreen.

I take it you’re planning on doing some longer distance trips on it then?

Yeah, heading to Belgium with an Austrian friend who’s got a KTM, a 690 Supermoto. So I need to kit it out with touring bits rather than street stuff.  A windscreen is probably what I need for sixty-plus miles an hour.

Is there anything in particular you don’t like about your new bike?

I don’t like the pipes that run from the water pump to the radiator, because they corrode really quickly. It’s not even a year old and they’re really quite damaged. It comes with the price really but I know it’s a problem that Yamaha will fix for free under warranty. The dealer told me about it and recommended things like ACF50. I was riding it all through winter, even through the snow, and that’s probably why it’s started corroding. But that’s probably the only thing that’s bugged me.

And you say your dealer’s already agreed to replace those pipes under warranty?

Yes. They say it’s a known problem with the MT-07, and those pipes in particular. Often they’ll paint them for you, just part of the dealership service rather than direct from Yamaha. They said otherwise you’ll just keep coming back wanting them replaced.

But other than that you’re pleased with your choice so far?

Absolutely. It’s a first bike. I’ve ridden two other bikes; a 50cc supermoto which was awful, and the bike I learned on for my test, so I don’t have much to compare it to.

No plans to change it any time soon then?

No, absolutely not.

Nick Tasker was interviewing Oliver King

Nick Tasker was interviewing Oliver King.

April 2019

Riders Ride (March 2017)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Welcome to Rider’s Rides! Each month we’ll feature a TVAM member and their bike, talk about why they chose that model, what they use it for, as well as what they like and dislike about it. Want to see your bike featured? Get in touch at pressofficer@slipstream.org

This month we have our Chief Observer Pat Coneley and his KTM:

So what bike are we looking at here?

A KTM Superduke GT.

And what does the GT stand for?

Well, it’s the kind of touring version of the Superduke. The original Superduke was a naked bike – same engine, same frame, slightly lighter. With the GT they’ve engineered some integral panniers, giving it some touring capability. They’re styled with the bike, and as panniers go, they look pretty good. They’re not huge like those on a GS, but they’re big enough. Fortunately they only have to cater for one as Amanda has her own bikes. She carries her stuff, I carry mine.

How long have you had the bike?

I bought it last May, so around ten months  – 13,000 miles.

Did it replace another bike or is this an addition to the garage?

Replacement. I already had a KTM, an 1190 Adventure, for three years. I think I put 36,000 miles on it. I don’t really have any off-road aspirations, so other than a few rocky tracks abroad on holiday it was only ever a tarmac bike. I figured why not try something a little bit more road focused with a smaller front wheel? I don’t particularly like bigger front wheels, find them a bit vague. KTM launched the GT, I tried it, and that was it, I fell in love.

What in particular is it that draws you to KTMs?

Well, if you cut me in half I don’t exactly bleed orange. I’ve had Honda’s, Suzuki’s, quite a range of bikes, but I like V-Twins, I like the power delivery, that punch, and I like the fact that they’re very slim-waisted, which my older ZX-9R was not. I like that slimness, both from a handling point of view, and from a filtering point of view. I like lighter bikes, and while the GT looks pretty big and heavy, it isn’t. It’s not that much more than 200kg dry, so 230kg fully fuelled, and it’s quite a big tank.

And 170 horsepower…

Apparently!

Do you agree that the safety nets on modern high-end bikes are a reflection of a rider demographic that no longer has the strength or skill to handle these increasingly powerful machines?

I do think it’s a factor. Manufacturers are being encouraged to produce bikes of such power that the only way that we can make them rideable for inexperienced riders is to inhibit them electronically, to which you could argue, well why do we bother? I know I’m riding one, but why do we need a 170bhp bike if it needs electronics to reign it in? I made reference to my ZX-9R, that was an old-style full-fat sportsbike; it didn’t even know which gear you were in! If you were daft enough to ask for it, it would give you 140bhp in first gear, which would loop it. The traction control was just my right hand and brain, and there’s something nice about that.

Many bike magazines praise traction control and ABS as a great way to enable us to ride faster than ever on roads, while others dislike them for encouraging people to rely upon the computer too much. What’s your view?

I think anything that makes bikes safer is a good thing. My view is that we ought to develop the skill to not need these things, but developing that skill safely could be quite a hazardous process. Within TVAM we encourage people to develop the skills stage by stage in a supportive learning environment with courses like Look Lean Roll and Advanced Braking. But to put an article in a magazine and then suggest to people they then go out and try all, that is probably not a good thing, and not very responsible.

So they may be good training wheels then?

Yes. And by the same token, if the planning does go wrong, if there suddenly is something in front of you, a truck coming the other way, and instinct tells you just to grab a handful…ABS can be a real lifesaver.

So which dealer got your business in this case?

Premier Bikes in Didcot. I’ve known them for quite a long time, and they’ve been brilliant. And what I liked about them is that they’re very straight. When KTM introduced the 1190 Adventure it was a new bike to them, and what really impressed me was that they were completely honest if they didn’t know the answers to my questions. That gave me a lot of faith in their workshop, which I still have. They’ve been brilliant.

Have you had any technical problems or anything with this Superduke or previous Adventure that needed it to go back to the dealer?

I’ve had a number of recalls as with a lot of bikes, but nothing that stopped me on the road. A couple of punctures, but I don’t blame KTM for that! Some niggling things, like the horn – KTM horns seem famous for not working when they’re hot. They’ve had the pin on the side stand, the bit you hook your foot on – they’ve had a number of those fall out. In fact, mine as well, but that’s not a particularly big deal, they sent me a new one and I screwed it in.

Have you installed any additional accessories or made any modifications to the bike since you bought it?

I put the Satnav mount on it, I put wiring in for heated gear, and that’s about it. There’s the Givi tankbag, but I quite like keeping bikes standard. I’m not a great fan of loud cans, I find them tiring. They sound fantastic when you hear one go by, but if you’re riding it for 300 miles it can get a bit wearing! And the standard exhaust on the GT, it’s got quite a nice sound.

This is obviously more of a road bike than your 1190 Adventure was. Have you found that riding the Superduke GT has changed your riding style in any way?

Yes, slightly. The weight distribution is probably the same as most bikes, but I’ve found it’s shorter, so if I’m snugged up to the tank I’m quite close to the front end. I find it easier to go deep into a bend, counter steer it hard and gas it out, and it encourages that kind of riding. On the Adventure I was a bit more planned about things; I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing, but it’s an awful lot of fun!

And the handling is phenomenal; a very easy bike to turn, which translates into some benefits. I can get the bike leaned quicker, so I’ll often find I don’t need to lean it as much, and corners are about average lean rather than maximum lean. You see riders who tend to turn the bike very slowly because they lean their body, so they bring the lean on quite slowly, which means you’ve often got to lean it over quite a long way to get around a corner.

Is there anything you miss from the Adventure?

I can’t do 250 miles between fill-ups, but I don’t have a 250 mile bladder range, so…

What are the least favourite aspects of your GT?

Cleaning it? Like most naked bikes it’s a sod to clean! But you can get in to most of it, it just takes a while. And it’s better than the 1190 – the Adventure had spoked wheels, I don’t know if you’ve ever had a bike with spoked wheels?

Yeah, I avoid them like the plague for that exact reason.

The Superduke has got cast wheels, and they’re quite a nice rounded shape so it’s easier to keep clean than the Adventure was. And the ignition key’s a fiddle to get at with the tank bag on. Unlike most bikes where it’s in the steering head, here it’s set further back in an infill panel in the tank. It’s only a tiny thing but it is a fiddle.

So far you’re pleased with the bike then?

Yeah, it still makes me smile, still makes me laugh after ten months.

Nick Tasker was interviewing Pat Coneley

First published in Slipstream March 2017

London Motorcycle Show (March 17)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

The London Motorcycle Show is the one I almost never think I’ll attend. Coming just a couple of short months after the trinity of Intermot, EICMA and Motorcycle Live, it’s always going to suffer a little bit from show-fatigue. Whereas the big European events give you the chance to see the latest machinery just days after the press, and Motorcycle Live is the one everyone goes to because it doesn’t require international travel, the London show doesn’t usually offer anything you haven’t seen before.

And yet, after spending the coldest, darkest, and these days, wettest months, either fighting the weather on the way to work or wistfully dreaming of drier days to come, it’s easy to see why so many of us jump at the chance to nip into town and spend another whole day fantasising about what two-wheeled wonder we’ll certainly save up for next.

 

This year I had an additional motive for attending. Two female friends of Rosa and myself, one prepping for her CBT and the other considering a return to biking after many years away, would be joining us. Bringing two newcomers to a modern motorcycle show must be like taking a pair of children to Disneyland for the first time. They want to look at everything, sit on everything, and ask questions about everything. And the excitement is infectious.

 

Some of us have been riding so long that we can take the basics for granted, but to these two, Suzuki’s new GSX-S125 was the most exciting thing they’d seen in years. Do any of you remember shopping for your first helmet or gloves? Turns out it’s pretty damn exciting.

 

It was also interesting attending a motorcycle show with three short women, particularly after Louise Dickinson’s seminar at the Observer Training Day on the challenges finding small, light bikes for those significantly shorter than six feet tall. I led the procession through the various manufacturer stands, pointing out the bikes I thought they might find interesting, or at least useable.

 

And you know, it’s funny – if you spend a day ignoring the high-powered exotica and focus on the smaller stuff you realise that the 200-500cc class has really exploded in recent years, both in choice and quality. I remember ignoring bikes like the Kawasaki Ninja 250 when I was learning to ride. It was cheap and nasty, both aesthetically and in workmanship.

 

But the new Ninja and Z300s are as premium as you like, with quality paint, fittings and parts. Ignore the obvious power deficit and the KTM Duke 390 gives up precious little on its bigger brothers, and Yamaha’s new R3 and MT-03 twins are clearly designed to instill as much pride of ownership as any R1 or MT-10. What’s more, weights are down and power is way up compared to the older generation of post-test tedium. These machines are pushing 44 horsepower at the top end, while barely weighing twice that of the average rider. You tell me that doesn’t sound like fun!

 

Even better, if you’ve spent the last few years coming to the conclusion that £10,000 is the new normal for large-capacity all-rounders, discovering that you could buy two 300cc bikes with change to spare is a revelation, and a real threat to one’s impulse control. PCP payments on bikes that cheap are barely more than the average phone bill…

 

This is really great news for Rosa and her friends. None of them are scared of speed or power, but it isn’t anywhere near as attractive to them as low weight, seat height and price. The fact that there’s more choice than ever for shorter riders can only be good news for all of us. I’ve never been more optimistic about the future of biking than seeing how surprised and excited these women were at discovering that motorcycling wasn’t just for tall, rich men.

And then MCN almost went and ruined the whole thing by showing up with a bunch of stick-thin models in skin-tight lycra, posing for photographs around their booth. Not a great way to make my female friends feel like they were welcome at the two-wheeled party. It was almost enough to make them want to cross the hall to the bicycle and fitness show instead, where women are treated as customers rather than eye candy.

But all in all, it was a great day out, for us and our friends. One has her new helmet, the other has fallen in love with Triumph’s new T100, and I’m trying to figure out if I could squeeze a Kawasaki Z300 in the garage. It is Rosa’s birthday soon…

Nick Tasker

Riders Ride (February 2017)

Posted on | by Nick Tasker

Introducing a new feature here in Slipstream: Rider’s Rides! Each month we’re going to feature a TVAM member and their bike, talk about why they chose that model, what they use it for, as well as what they like and dislike about it.

Want to see your bike featured?         Get in touch with Nick Tasker at pressofficer@slipstream.org

This month we have Kathy Drogemuller and her new Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883:

So Kathy, how long have you had this particular bike?

2 weeks and 90 miles!

So it’s new then! Why replace your previous Sportster?

My bike was beginning to look a bit tired. It was at 20,000 miles and was due a service. Both mudguards were beginning to rust and needed to be fixed and I’d had a small ‘off’ in the summer which left a few scrapes and scratches (on me and the bike!). Coming home from the last 7Ws, Dawn Armstrong was travelling behind me and had to stop to pick up the heat shield from my exhaust, which had fallen off. But probably the biggest reason was that I’d been riding the SERV bikes and found the FJR an absolute dream to handle – you only have to think about going around a corner and before you know it you’re gliding round smoothly. I was beginning to realise that perhaps my riding was limited by my bike.

I don’t think I’d be able to keep up with you on an FJR, but I see you went with HD again…

I am still a dedicated HD fan – I love the rumble and there is a kind of kinship (for better or worse) between HD riders, maybe because we have to put up with so much teasing from other bikers. For me there’s also an emotional connection to the brand after I lost a friend who was a Harley rider (not in an accident I should add).

It’s true; nothing looks or sounds quite like a Harley! But presumably there were some specific features you were looking for this time around?

I wanted a tank size that would allow me to travel more than 70 miles in one go – that effectively discounted the forty-eight range – and more ground clearance. Often, on cornering, my pegs would scrape the road surface. Whilst a good indicator of whether I still had room to lean over, it tended to be a bit of a distraction.

I’d agree that most Harleys aren’t suited to more progressive riding! Which lucky dealership got your business this time then?

I visited the Reading dealer one sunny Saturday to do some test riding. Budget was a bit of a consideration as anything over £10k would probably lead to my husband filing for divorce (although I would argue that divorce is much more costly than a mere £10,000) so that discounted a number of models. I also wasn’t too sure at that stage how much I would be offered as part-exchange for my current bike.

Did you try anything else or go straight for the Iron?

I took out the 1200T, but found it rode as low as my Sportster, plus it was equipped with windscreen and panniers which added to the cost but didn’t really add to the style. I also tried the forty-eight, but the peanut-size tank just wasn’t going to be up to the job. Next I tried the Iron. It definitely has higher ground clearance than the Sportster and I felt quite comfortable sat astride it. I took one out for a ride and an hour later returned to the shop with a big grin on my face. I felt like Steve McQueen on this raw machine. Not the dream handling of the FJR but far easier than my Sportster.

Were you at all tempted by the extra power of the 1200 Sportsters?

There was a used one on the shop floor which had stage 4 upgrades fitted. The salesman seemed was very reluctant to let me take it out. Perhaps he thought I wasn’t serious? Eventually I was allowed a brief spin around the block and – to be honest – that was all I needed. I cautiously pulled out of the dealer car park and it was just as well I did as even then the front wheel was trying to lift. It was certainly peppy! It turned out to be too much really and felt as if I were riding a wild pony on caffeine.

Were they any more cooperative when you fished out your credit card?

I’d been given a trade-in price of £2700 for my Sportster and told that there was probably room to move on the ticket price of a new Iron, but I would need to come in and sit with the salesman and big bad John, his boss. They were expecting a shipment at the end of November but there was only one black ordered for the whole of the south and it was likely to go pretty fast – the sales talk was beginning to creep in but I wasn’t in a rush. A few emails and phone calls passed between the salesman and I as he encouraged me to come in to meet with John. But still there was no definitive price cut.

Then one afternoon I decided to see what else might be on offer and called the Harley dealer in Guildford. The salesman there said he had a 2016 demo Iron with just under 600 miles on the clock in charcoal. Was I interested? Within 20 minutes I had secured £800 off the full list price, been offered an additional £300 trade-in on my Sportster and the first 1000 mile service included in the exchange. £500 deposit and the bike was sold! I later mused over the fact that I had just bought a bike I hadn’t even seen – but then so had the dealer.

Sounds like a heck of a deal! But the salesman surely didn’t let you get away without selling you some accessories?

No. I added a smokey-grey windscreen and a black luggage rack to the order. Before the exchange, and with the kind assistance of the guys at Mel’s Motors, removed some of the extras I’d added over the last 3 years of Harley ownership. The weather was beginning to turn cooler so I was very keen to keep possession of the heated glove connection, in particular.

It has certainly been very cold and wet. Did you brave the elements yourself or get it delivered?

When told that the parts were in and fitted, I took my old bike for one last ride to Guildford to seal the deal. Paperwork completed and road tax paid for online, I was heading home with just as big a grin as I had experienced the first time I rode the Iron.

Sounds like you’re enjoying it!  What’s your favourite aspect of the new bike?

The digital control display, which shows revs and which gear you have selected. I also like the position and design of the handlebars which are not as chopper-like as my previous bike. Also the higher ground clearance!

Any future modifications, accessories or upgrades planned?

I might opt for the stage one upgrade (although not necessarily with the pipes) as I’m told that might give me slightly better performance.

What sort of riding do you plan to do?

TVAM trips at home and abroad.

And so far, are you pleased with your purchase?

Yes, thrilled!

 

Nick Tasker was interviewing Kathy Drogemuller

First published in Slipstream February 2017