Hitcher
3rd January 2008, 17:41
It had to happen sometime. Today was the day. I rode a British motorcycle – a Triumph Speed Triple 1050 to be precise. To be even more exact it had a couple of aftermarket enhancements in the form of an Ohlins rearset and Micron mufflers to go with 10,000km added by its initial owner. The test bike was a “minter” and well run in.
Speed Triples are amongst the more “individual” motorcycles on the road. The bug-eyed chrome twin headlight cluster, the double radiators at the front of the engine for oil and water cooling and the bike’s minimalist styling take the term “naked bike” almost too seriously.
The test bike was black. In fact it was so black, even its white bits were black (almost but not quite).
The first thing I liked about the Speed Triple was that everything “fitted”. At 183cm in height, I don’t think that I am an overly tall person, until I try to ride many of the bikes on offer that are clearly built for riders much shorter than I am. But I struggle to rationalise this against the high seat heights many bikes also have, because I have yet to see 170cm-tall riders with legs longer than mine. I suspect bikes are a bit like kitchens, in that the people who design them are fashion victims who clearly don’t use them.
As a comparison, my last test ride was a Suzuki B-King. This is a big looking bike but one that I found too small for me to fit comfortably. The Speed Triple fitted almost perfectly. The seat was fractionally on the tall side, but a bit of fannying around with Mr Ohlins most excellent rear suspension should soon remedy that.
The first thing I didn’t like about the Speed Triple were its mirrors. Mirrors are sometimes called “rear-view mirrors”, an assumption implicit from that name being an ability to see astern whilst riding. The Triumph’s mirrors provided an excellent and razor-sharp-at-all-speeds view of my elbows. Rear vision was afforded by sliding one’s arse from side to side, as a MotoGP rider would.
The reason for the word “triple” in the Speed Triple’s moniker, I shrewdly deduced, is because its 1050cc mill has three cylinders. Odd indeed, compared with the symmetry most manufacturers of multi-cylinder engines appear to aspire towards. I was expecting some sort of vibey thrum as a consequence, and was pleasantly surprised at the engine’s smoothness, and also its throttle response and willingness to both lug and rev. Combined with the Micron cans, the noise that emitted rearwards was “arousing” to say the least. Somebody who knew what a motorcycle engine should do clearly had a hand in the manufacture of this triple. The torque response is near faultless right across a 2,000rpm to 8,000rpm range.
Which leads me to the transmission. A six-speed box is coupled to the rear wheel by chain. The whole ensemble is held in position by a single-sided swing arm. I don’t get the point of these, but they sure do look nice!
Another thing about a lot of bikes that I struggle to “get” is the six-speed transmission. On 250s and some mid-size bikes one is constantly changing gears, largely because the one that one happens to be in at any point in time is never quite right, and one can never seem to remember what gear one is in anyway, unless one scrupulously counts. Some manufacturers now add nifty LCD numbers in the instrument cluster to do the counting for one. Thank you! On larger bikes with reasonably torquey donks, I find that five gears is generally quite sufficient, with a sixth gear generally a bit of flim-flammery, or an overdrive for motorway cruising. More ornament that use.
But today I now “got” a six-speed transmission for the first time. Mr Triumph has selected the ratios with great care and precision to match the engine’s most excellent ergonomics, which seem to be best at around the 6,000rpm point, plus or minus. I liked this hugely.
The test bike was fitted with almost new Michelin Pilot Road 2s – not a tyre I expected to see on a bike of this type. I would have expected to see an Avon Viper, or similar, fitted. And with no basis for comparison, I have no idea how this tyre choice affects the Triumph’s handling. I was expecting the Speed Triple to be flickable and nimble, after all it looks like it should be. But it wasn’t. Pushed quite hard around Grays Road, I encountered understeer by the boat-load. Not quite a whaleboat, but almost. This wasn’t dangerous – applying more countersteer did the business. But the front lacked the sort of bite that I am used to and expect. My FJR is a sharper handler than the tested Speed Triple, and the B-King I rode a couple of weeks beforehand was significantly nimbler. I was working hard carving cats-eyes at 70kmh on the Triumph.
The instrument panel on the Triumph is well positioned and is a mix of analogue tach and digital everything else. I liked the design and readability, although the odometer display was a bit on the small side. Closer analysis revealed a trip computer, offering a range of functions and data about fuel consumption, rolling average time, highest speed travelled, high tide at Southampton and the phase of the moon. Most of this was sort of intuitive, but resetting the trip meters (something the previous owner had never done) required two buttons to be pressed for several seconds. Not the sort of thing one could or should attempt to do at other than a complete stop. Scrolling through the various displays indicated that this bike was capable of being ridden at speeds in excess of 220kmh (rated) and that it consumed motor spirits prodigiously!
So, it’s time for the Big Two questions:
Did I like the Speed Triple? No. I loved it. Loved it hugely. This is an awesome motorcycle. Not perfect though.
Would I buy a Speed Triple? Yes, but it wouldn’t be my only bike, as it doesn’t do everything I need a motorcycle to do, such as carry touring luggage and a pillion in some comfort when necessary.
Many thanks to Pete at Wellington Motorcycles for providing the opportunity to ride the Triumph Speed Triple 1050.
Speed Triples are amongst the more “individual” motorcycles on the road. The bug-eyed chrome twin headlight cluster, the double radiators at the front of the engine for oil and water cooling and the bike’s minimalist styling take the term “naked bike” almost too seriously.
The test bike was black. In fact it was so black, even its white bits were black (almost but not quite).
The first thing I liked about the Speed Triple was that everything “fitted”. At 183cm in height, I don’t think that I am an overly tall person, until I try to ride many of the bikes on offer that are clearly built for riders much shorter than I am. But I struggle to rationalise this against the high seat heights many bikes also have, because I have yet to see 170cm-tall riders with legs longer than mine. I suspect bikes are a bit like kitchens, in that the people who design them are fashion victims who clearly don’t use them.
As a comparison, my last test ride was a Suzuki B-King. This is a big looking bike but one that I found too small for me to fit comfortably. The Speed Triple fitted almost perfectly. The seat was fractionally on the tall side, but a bit of fannying around with Mr Ohlins most excellent rear suspension should soon remedy that.
The first thing I didn’t like about the Speed Triple were its mirrors. Mirrors are sometimes called “rear-view mirrors”, an assumption implicit from that name being an ability to see astern whilst riding. The Triumph’s mirrors provided an excellent and razor-sharp-at-all-speeds view of my elbows. Rear vision was afforded by sliding one’s arse from side to side, as a MotoGP rider would.
The reason for the word “triple” in the Speed Triple’s moniker, I shrewdly deduced, is because its 1050cc mill has three cylinders. Odd indeed, compared with the symmetry most manufacturers of multi-cylinder engines appear to aspire towards. I was expecting some sort of vibey thrum as a consequence, and was pleasantly surprised at the engine’s smoothness, and also its throttle response and willingness to both lug and rev. Combined with the Micron cans, the noise that emitted rearwards was “arousing” to say the least. Somebody who knew what a motorcycle engine should do clearly had a hand in the manufacture of this triple. The torque response is near faultless right across a 2,000rpm to 8,000rpm range.
Which leads me to the transmission. A six-speed box is coupled to the rear wheel by chain. The whole ensemble is held in position by a single-sided swing arm. I don’t get the point of these, but they sure do look nice!
Another thing about a lot of bikes that I struggle to “get” is the six-speed transmission. On 250s and some mid-size bikes one is constantly changing gears, largely because the one that one happens to be in at any point in time is never quite right, and one can never seem to remember what gear one is in anyway, unless one scrupulously counts. Some manufacturers now add nifty LCD numbers in the instrument cluster to do the counting for one. Thank you! On larger bikes with reasonably torquey donks, I find that five gears is generally quite sufficient, with a sixth gear generally a bit of flim-flammery, or an overdrive for motorway cruising. More ornament that use.
But today I now “got” a six-speed transmission for the first time. Mr Triumph has selected the ratios with great care and precision to match the engine’s most excellent ergonomics, which seem to be best at around the 6,000rpm point, plus or minus. I liked this hugely.
The test bike was fitted with almost new Michelin Pilot Road 2s – not a tyre I expected to see on a bike of this type. I would have expected to see an Avon Viper, or similar, fitted. And with no basis for comparison, I have no idea how this tyre choice affects the Triumph’s handling. I was expecting the Speed Triple to be flickable and nimble, after all it looks like it should be. But it wasn’t. Pushed quite hard around Grays Road, I encountered understeer by the boat-load. Not quite a whaleboat, but almost. This wasn’t dangerous – applying more countersteer did the business. But the front lacked the sort of bite that I am used to and expect. My FJR is a sharper handler than the tested Speed Triple, and the B-King I rode a couple of weeks beforehand was significantly nimbler. I was working hard carving cats-eyes at 70kmh on the Triumph.
The instrument panel on the Triumph is well positioned and is a mix of analogue tach and digital everything else. I liked the design and readability, although the odometer display was a bit on the small side. Closer analysis revealed a trip computer, offering a range of functions and data about fuel consumption, rolling average time, highest speed travelled, high tide at Southampton and the phase of the moon. Most of this was sort of intuitive, but resetting the trip meters (something the previous owner had never done) required two buttons to be pressed for several seconds. Not the sort of thing one could or should attempt to do at other than a complete stop. Scrolling through the various displays indicated that this bike was capable of being ridden at speeds in excess of 220kmh (rated) and that it consumed motor spirits prodigiously!
So, it’s time for the Big Two questions:
Did I like the Speed Triple? No. I loved it. Loved it hugely. This is an awesome motorcycle. Not perfect though.
Would I buy a Speed Triple? Yes, but it wouldn’t be my only bike, as it doesn’t do everything I need a motorcycle to do, such as carry touring luggage and a pillion in some comfort when necessary.
Many thanks to Pete at Wellington Motorcycles for providing the opportunity to ride the Triumph Speed Triple 1050.