Here's an updated review after a period of ownership.
Ok, I concede I may have been a touch brief in sharing my love for the Man Bike. I did pass on the salient facts though. Allow me to elaborate.
It's been about a year since I pried the wretched money from the wizened claw of the bank manager and threw it in the face of the smirking salesman. Having to define my bike-lust in terms of money is just so common and base that I shall not speak of it again.
The first few weeks passed in the warm glow of new bike happiness. Looking at it made me smile, riding it made me laugh and sing songs about invading Poland. I don't have a particular issue with Poland, it's just that the Austrian-made 997cc V-twin sounds a lot like a blitzkrieg in full swing and my half-German side is prone to invading someone every now and then. I might try Tassie next year, it's a lot closer.
At this point I wasn't totally "as one" with my new bike. Sure, I was happy enough but like all new relationships you have to get to know how the other party works and what needs to be done to make the most of it. I was still overwhelmed with the stomp this bike could deliver. The impromptu wheelies when I got over-eager with the throttle made my skirts flutter in the breeze.
Throughout the time I've been using the T for a myriad of duties, mostly commuting as I loathe cars and refuse to sit in traffic listening to inane morning radio shows. I have anger management issues with that sort of thing. For those of us that ride to work daily the conditions are pretty much all the same so I wont bore you with the details. I will however tell you that the T is perfectly attuned to the task of the daily grind. It's pootling manners are very nice, the upright position and wide bars make splitting (*ahem* filtering) with precision a breeze. It's a surprise, but apart from the thirst this bike displays it makes a great commuter. Plus, it will smoke anyone in a Stop Light GP.
Let's fast forward the last few months. By this point I've made the decision that I'm not a technically savvy suspension expert so other than setting up the preload for my fat little self I return the damping settings to factory spec. Those cheeky Italians! Suddenly My bike doesn't dive like a U-boat on a mission, it hunkers and sets itself. All the things I tried to achieve by fiddling could be mostly found just be going back to what they worked out at this start for this bike. Of course, what they set out to achieve is a taught, well balanced package with enough compliance and give to accept that these bikes do have to ride on real roads and not just race tracks. It's a firm ride, but oh baby, hit a corner with some passion and feel what a revelation cornering can become.
It's been in these last few months that I've really seen the quality of the T. The first few led into Winter so any chance of really applying myself to learning the bike were shot. Now with a decent period of time to go riding I've applied my meagre talents and been greatly rewarded.
Last January VTRElmarco and myself went on a 4 day jaunt to Bateman's Bay on the NSW south coast. The route was: Whittlesea - Yea - Mansfield - Whitfield - Wangaratta with a quick transport section to Wodonga - Tallangatta - Bullioh - Granya - Walwa - Tintaldra into Corryong for the first night. Followed up with Khancoban - Dead Horse Gap for the obligatory photos - Thredbo - Jindabyne and down to Cooma, Bega and Bateman's Bay. The reverse had us take in Cooma to Adaminaby - Kiandra and down the Tumut Pond dam road (Wow!) and back sort of the same way. If you take nothing else from this bike-wank, take my advice to ride these roads. You will buy me beer afterwards in gratitude.
That gave me ample opportunity to try big open sweepers, closed in tight mountain switchbacks and even boring sections of highway. We stopped at various points, I was shagged from the heat but physically fine from the ride, this is one decently comfy sportsbike. It's handling prowess was....well, imagine a wild eyed, sweaty, yob waving his hands in the air and saying "Amazing!" a lot and you have a picture of me talking about the Tuono. Would sir like a small change of line mid-corner? Be my guest, caress that bit there. Has sir gone in too hard and needs some brakes to go with that corner? But of course. Would a power wheelie in second as you fly out of that tight lefthander be your desire? Up we go then.
There have been many times in the past that I would struggle to hold on to the coat tails of my faster riding mates. I'd literally have to scrap pegs and keep the VFR on full boil to keep them in sight. Not any more. That extra confidence, that little bit of improvement, that extra refinement the T offers sees me looking for places to pass or wondering why there isn't someone tapping on my helmet to get me out of the way. It makes you feel like a god.
Then there is the bling. Heh, bling. I really like a bita bling. I've been pretty restrained with the T so far. Other than a Bagster tank cover (in red and gold) and bag, Rhinomoto fork and swing-arm crash bungs, R&G exhaust protector, Akra-Aprilia exhaust, powercommander (God knows why, I don't need it, it's just a must have), Unifilter air filter, '00 model air intake, and gold CRG levers I've left it as I found it, oh and 16/43 sprocket combination with gold chain .....yeah I know, I'm a sad specimen. I can see carbon fibre in my future. Mel will kill me.
The quality of a proper, powerful, rider's bike like the Tuono just has to be tried to see why I rant to the point that my friends quietly plot my doom. It rewards your efforts and is ready for eveything you throw at it. The nimbleness and easy way it flicks about and sets itself into corners has done more to improve my riding technique and confidence in a few short months than five years aboard the VFR (great bike that it is). I push, the bike responds. I f#ck up, the bike allows me to correct. I go "YeeeHaaaa!", the bike throws me at the horizon like a guided missile with the sound track to Armageddon coming from the pipe. This my friends, it a true rider's motorcycle.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Bike review
I haven't been exactly prolific of late. It make up for the lack of posts I'm posting a couple of reviews I wrote about my bike, the Aprilia Tuono Man Bike. Enjoy.
Once upon a time a young lad had a motorcycle. It was a fine motorcycle and went quickly and surely from A to B and sometimes via a very twisty C with nary a complaint and in good comfort. The young lad was very proud of his fine and reliable motorcycle. Rightly so, it must be added! It was a VFR800 and served the young lad as commuter, weekend weapon and track day missile. It is a fine, fine motorcycle.
The young lad doted on this fine motorcycle and threw many bling bling parts at it to prolong the joy - A lovely Remus end can, new braided brake lines and wave disks to name a few! Eventually though the young lad was beginning to lose the special feeling he had for the fine motorcycle and was often finding that his eyes did wander over more exotic and sexy machinery.
One day the young lad's lovely and beautiful girlfriend did mention that she rather liked the young lad’s fine motorcycle for herself and that the young lad may want to think about visiting the welcoming motorcycle stores for a new bike for himself. About 0.0000001 seconds later the young lad found himself in said welcoming stores…And so did begin the search for the next Big Thing. Right about now, the world exploded…
It’s not often I’ve ridden a bike and was able to match the WOW factor with that special ingredient I like to call my personal fit. It’s not about whether or not I can stand flat-footed while on the bike. I cant. It’s not about practical considerations like fuel economy or tank range, both are pretty average let me tell you! It’s altogether more about a visceral gut feel where I vibrate on the same level as the bike. It’s very Zen.
I own the 2003 Aprilia Tuono. It is the Man Bike. I bought it second hand but like all good love stories this one begins when we met and I’m not interested in her previous partners. If you want the stats go Google, all the basics are there. The Mille engine tuned for…whatever the Mille was tuned for, it’s the same engine with few changes. The decent HP figures – around 120 and whatever the factory chip and can adds to that. The kind of torque that feels like it could twist a red gum until it snapped. The fully adjustable suspension, perhaps a tad harsh until you work out how the adjusters work, after that it’s a pretty comfy ride. The Brembo brakes which make stoppies a little too easy. All that information is there if you want to read it and put into a better article than what you see here. I’m talking love here people.
The truth is this bike is far better than you or me or Mr Black Spur 2007. It’s a Hooligan bike with a performance heart and it doesn’t make pretensions about being anything else. The wide gold bars put you into an upright position that have you facing whatever is around the next bend full on. You can lean into the windblast – bulldog fashion – and take a bloody great bite out of the road and tear through knowing the Man Bike is taking you there and not leaving you stranded in the ditch. This bike really handles.
Straight lines are best measured in decibels. I play with the throttle rolling on and off just to see what new bass note I can find and howl to. The side effect of this is a front wheel that in the lower gears only takes a passing interest in the tarmac. The rest of the time it is sniffing the horizon for another straight to charge into or corner to drop down and chew.
Everything feels a notch above my Japanese experience, displaying typical Italian flair. The engine is made by Rotax, and feels every inch the European thoroughbred. It is free spinning and smooth and the gearbox precise and positive. It doesn’t just go into gear it ‘snicks’ and you’re away. Being a 1000cc V-twin there is no lack of thick chocolate power but it is neither harsh nor unusable. Everything is there on offer and all you have to do is say…yes. The next thing you will realise is that you’ve dangled your license over the abyss and still have 2 or 3 gears to go.
Going into a corner…well where do I start? Surefooted, responsive, light and eager. I wish the same could be said of me! You can find yourself going into a tight blind corner and suffer as Survival Reaction as my old mate Keithy calls it and rather than run you off the road it will hold a line and usher you through like a loving friend who understands you can be an idiot but still need to get through. Get a corner right – Then you discover a new plain of riding experience.
I’m afraid I never really understood what was meant by a bike “flowing” through a tight corner until I started riding a Tuono. I never understood what monoing out of a corner was all about either come to mention it. Now I do. The suspension is really quality gear but don’t expect the comfort of a tourer or a bike designed to cover all bases. These legs are made for track running so the cross country tracks we get on some roads can make her slap you in indignation. I’ve not once felt it cause me to run wide or bounce me around but you do have to take notice of the tackle-to-tank distances pretty carefully sometimes.
I’ve not yet taken her to a track but I’m sure I would only prove what I already know, I can go quickly, and the bike can go faster. Still, I will find out eventually and take the time to narrow the gap between her and me. This bike gives an amazing amount of confidence to the rider and rewards you for trying. Everything has limits but I will have to develop mine further before I can honestly begin to find the Tuono’s. This is the Man Bike.
Once upon a time a young lad had a motorcycle. It was a fine motorcycle and went quickly and surely from A to B and sometimes via a very twisty C with nary a complaint and in good comfort. The young lad was very proud of his fine and reliable motorcycle. Rightly so, it must be added! It was a VFR800 and served the young lad as commuter, weekend weapon and track day missile. It is a fine, fine motorcycle.
The young lad doted on this fine motorcycle and threw many bling bling parts at it to prolong the joy - A lovely Remus end can, new braided brake lines and wave disks to name a few! Eventually though the young lad was beginning to lose the special feeling he had for the fine motorcycle and was often finding that his eyes did wander over more exotic and sexy machinery.
One day the young lad's lovely and beautiful girlfriend did mention that she rather liked the young lad’s fine motorcycle for herself and that the young lad may want to think about visiting the welcoming motorcycle stores for a new bike for himself. About 0.0000001 seconds later the young lad found himself in said welcoming stores…And so did begin the search for the next Big Thing. Right about now, the world exploded…
It’s not often I’ve ridden a bike and was able to match the WOW factor with that special ingredient I like to call my personal fit. It’s not about whether or not I can stand flat-footed while on the bike. I cant. It’s not about practical considerations like fuel economy or tank range, both are pretty average let me tell you! It’s altogether more about a visceral gut feel where I vibrate on the same level as the bike. It’s very Zen.
I own the 2003 Aprilia Tuono. It is the Man Bike. I bought it second hand but like all good love stories this one begins when we met and I’m not interested in her previous partners. If you want the stats go Google, all the basics are there. The Mille engine tuned for…whatever the Mille was tuned for, it’s the same engine with few changes. The decent HP figures – around 120 and whatever the factory chip and can adds to that. The kind of torque that feels like it could twist a red gum until it snapped. The fully adjustable suspension, perhaps a tad harsh until you work out how the adjusters work, after that it’s a pretty comfy ride. The Brembo brakes which make stoppies a little too easy. All that information is there if you want to read it and put into a better article than what you see here. I’m talking love here people.
The truth is this bike is far better than you or me or Mr Black Spur 2007. It’s a Hooligan bike with a performance heart and it doesn’t make pretensions about being anything else. The wide gold bars put you into an upright position that have you facing whatever is around the next bend full on. You can lean into the windblast – bulldog fashion – and take a bloody great bite out of the road and tear through knowing the Man Bike is taking you there and not leaving you stranded in the ditch. This bike really handles.
Straight lines are best measured in decibels. I play with the throttle rolling on and off just to see what new bass note I can find and howl to. The side effect of this is a front wheel that in the lower gears only takes a passing interest in the tarmac. The rest of the time it is sniffing the horizon for another straight to charge into or corner to drop down and chew.
Everything feels a notch above my Japanese experience, displaying typical Italian flair. The engine is made by Rotax, and feels every inch the European thoroughbred. It is free spinning and smooth and the gearbox precise and positive. It doesn’t just go into gear it ‘snicks’ and you’re away. Being a 1000cc V-twin there is no lack of thick chocolate power but it is neither harsh nor unusable. Everything is there on offer and all you have to do is say…yes. The next thing you will realise is that you’ve dangled your license over the abyss and still have 2 or 3 gears to go.
Going into a corner…well where do I start? Surefooted, responsive, light and eager. I wish the same could be said of me! You can find yourself going into a tight blind corner and suffer as Survival Reaction as my old mate Keithy calls it and rather than run you off the road it will hold a line and usher you through like a loving friend who understands you can be an idiot but still need to get through. Get a corner right – Then you discover a new plain of riding experience.
I’m afraid I never really understood what was meant by a bike “flowing” through a tight corner until I started riding a Tuono. I never understood what monoing out of a corner was all about either come to mention it. Now I do. The suspension is really quality gear but don’t expect the comfort of a tourer or a bike designed to cover all bases. These legs are made for track running so the cross country tracks we get on some roads can make her slap you in indignation. I’ve not once felt it cause me to run wide or bounce me around but you do have to take notice of the tackle-to-tank distances pretty carefully sometimes.
I’ve not yet taken her to a track but I’m sure I would only prove what I already know, I can go quickly, and the bike can go faster. Still, I will find out eventually and take the time to narrow the gap between her and me. This bike gives an amazing amount of confidence to the rider and rewards you for trying. Everything has limits but I will have to develop mine further before I can honestly begin to find the Tuono’s. This is the Man Bike.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
I'm Back
It has been an awesomely long time between posts. Much has happened yet I haven't thought of a next paragraph to Guy Steele PI. I'll get to it though. Hard boiled crime drama rocks. It's cheap, tacky and easily digested.
Recent developments:
Asked Ms M to marry me, she said yes. Wedding late next year.
Bought another motorbike, the mighty Aprilia Tuono.
Buying a 1976 CB400 4 for a track bike. My best man and I are heading to a classic bike track festival next year.
Getting my own family tartan made up into a 15 metre length of wool. More on that later.
Been Christmas shopping and finally think I have a gift for M that doesn't suck. Hope she agrees.
We're not hosting Christmas this year. After three consecutive events it's time for us to slack off and let someone else do all the work. We're off to some good friends to relax and kick back sans family, I can't wait.
Catch ya,
Jaked
Recent developments:
Asked Ms M to marry me, she said yes. Wedding late next year.
Bought another motorbike, the mighty Aprilia Tuono.
Buying a 1976 CB400 4 for a track bike. My best man and I are heading to a classic bike track festival next year.
Getting my own family tartan made up into a 15 metre length of wool. More on that later.
Been Christmas shopping and finally think I have a gift for M that doesn't suck. Hope she agrees.
We're not hosting Christmas this year. After three consecutive events it's time for us to slack off and let someone else do all the work. We're off to some good friends to relax and kick back sans family, I can't wait.
Catch ya,
Jaked
Friday, April 13, 2007
Speed and Speedability
Sometimes you do things that you know have a hefty combination of risks yet none of these, either singular, or in a nasty group of thugs will make you change course. Sometimes, you stare down those risks, puff out your chest and say to yourself "make my day, punk!" Or maybe you don't, but for the point if this story pretend you do.
My pilgramage to the Mecca of motorcycling comes in under that catagory. Though, if I'm truthful, my risk list was pretty short. The four main things that concerned me were losing my license and a sizeable amount of cash, crashing at speed and being killed and even worse, crashing at speed and having to live in a chair for the term of my natural life. Finally, dare I mention it, being found out as a talentless hack with no skill and the pace of an athritic donkey.
I had a long time to ponder my risk list as the Haj to my Holylands was many months in the planning. There was little for me to do in that regard as our Saint Elle, The Supremely Organised sorted the travel, accomodation and festivities with a military-like precision that made the only hard part coughing up the money to go.
Little did I know my stressing was in vain. Other than a small whoopsee when I decided to blaze a trail through a gravel run off and coax the bike behind me to follow, nothing went wrong that beer couldn't make better. Speaking of beer, I love the Cascade brewery and all the happy pixies that make it's glorious product. The free tasting was a good starter to a huge night at the infamous Joe's Garage. I'm not sure yet if I'll post pics of that night - I incriminate myself altogether too much.
The preceeding days were one serious attempt to cover every twisty road in the state. I can safely say that if it was worth riding we road it. North to south through the middle then across to Strahan on the west coast and down to Hobart. few days drinking and sitting in a spa followed by the finale (i can't add the correct thingys on the letters) - riding from Hobart and up the east coast which puts the Great Ocean Road to shame and then over some excellent mountain roads before striking out for Devonport and the night boat home (via my Mum's place and some pizza, God bless her!).
I may expand this post here and there but it's been so long since I posted it was time to get something out.
Catch you later....
My pilgramage to the Mecca of motorcycling comes in under that catagory. Though, if I'm truthful, my risk list was pretty short. The four main things that concerned me were losing my license and a sizeable amount of cash, crashing at speed and being killed and even worse, crashing at speed and having to live in a chair for the term of my natural life. Finally, dare I mention it, being found out as a talentless hack with no skill and the pace of an athritic donkey.
I had a long time to ponder my risk list as the Haj to my Holylands was many months in the planning. There was little for me to do in that regard as our Saint Elle, The Supremely Organised sorted the travel, accomodation and festivities with a military-like precision that made the only hard part coughing up the money to go.
Little did I know my stressing was in vain. Other than a small whoopsee when I decided to blaze a trail through a gravel run off and coax the bike behind me to follow, nothing went wrong that beer couldn't make better. Speaking of beer, I love the Cascade brewery and all the happy pixies that make it's glorious product. The free tasting was a good starter to a huge night at the infamous Joe's Garage. I'm not sure yet if I'll post pics of that night - I incriminate myself altogether too much.
The preceeding days were one serious attempt to cover every twisty road in the state. I can safely say that if it was worth riding we road it. North to south through the middle then across to Strahan on the west coast and down to Hobart. few days drinking and sitting in a spa followed by the finale (i can't add the correct thingys on the letters) - riding from Hobart and up the east coast which puts the Great Ocean Road to shame and then over some excellent mountain roads before striking out for Devonport and the night boat home (via my Mum's place and some pizza, God bless her!).
I may expand this post here and there but it's been so long since I posted it was time to get something out.
Catch you later....
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Happy New Year
Happy New Year!
A recap is in order... I might do it later...
Don't die horrifically.
BLR.
A recap is in order... I might do it later...
Don't die horrifically.
BLR.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Insights of a fortune cookie quality.
I wonder if a patch club called The Loners is a bit contradictory.
Ride a Harley to be different and buck the system... Harley make more profit out of the sale of badged merchandise than they do motorcycles.
I work longer hours and accept more stress to improve my life....
I accepted 30 years of major debt gratefully and despised my year to year transitory rental leases.
I write for an audience of none and take care to set it down properly.
Catch you later....
Ride a Harley to be different and buck the system... Harley make more profit out of the sale of badged merchandise than they do motorcycles.
I work longer hours and accept more stress to improve my life....
I accepted 30 years of major debt gratefully and despised my year to year transitory rental leases.
I write for an audience of none and take care to set it down properly.
Catch you later....
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Chapter One, paragraph 4, 5 ,6: Guy Steel, PI
The office Guy rented was one of many in a mostly disused block. Back in it's heyday it was home to aspiring failures waiting to happen, now it kept the resigned but employed out of the way of successful and respectable citizens.
The light over the rear exit cast a feeble glow on the steps down to the car park out the back. Guy swore and smashed the light globe on his way out. Nothing like a little light to give the wrong people an easy target. He'd told Mr Lim to leave it be but the maintenance man still had enough pride to fix what he could in a building that no longer worked.
The matt black Camaro sat where Guy had left it in the disabled parking spot closest to the exit. He knew noone but him used it these days. He pressed the disarm switch that turned it from shrapnel bomb to car and got in. He kissed the St Christopher medal hanging from the rear-view mirror and moved out onto the street.
The light over the rear exit cast a feeble glow on the steps down to the car park out the back. Guy swore and smashed the light globe on his way out. Nothing like a little light to give the wrong people an easy target. He'd told Mr Lim to leave it be but the maintenance man still had enough pride to fix what he could in a building that no longer worked.
The matt black Camaro sat where Guy had left it in the disabled parking spot closest to the exit. He knew noone but him used it these days. He pressed the disarm switch that turned it from shrapnel bomb to car and got in. He kissed the St Christopher medal hanging from the rear-view mirror and moved out onto the street.
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