BSA Lightning custom

BSA Lightning custom

I get to see a lot of bikes while researching posts for Bike EXIF. But it’s only occasionally that one will stop me in my tracks, and send me straight to eBay looking for an identical model. Kevin Giffin’s ‘Buster’, a 1966 BSA A65 Lightning, is one of those rare bikes. (It’s also a familiar model for me; in the 80s, there was a TV detective show in the UK called Boon, and a BSA Lightning featured in every episode.) Giffin’s BSA was an eBay find, but also a salutary lesson in buying unseen. “It was supposed to be a 1966 Lightning. It turned out to be a ‘bitsa’, and a well-worn one at that,” says Giffin. “After taking it apart, it became obvious that a complete rebuild was in order.” In the end, it took Giffin two years and over $10,000 to turn this bike into the stunning machine pictured above. He thoroughly reworked the 650cc parallel twin engine, giving it a 10.5:1 compression, a QPD primary belt drive, and a Boyer Bransden ignition. The bottom end and crank are from an A50, while the top end is from an A65. Giffen also installed Amal Monoblocs with open velocity stacks, and a late-model swingarm with bronze bushings. The front end is from a 1998 Honda CBR600F3—with clip-ons mounted above the triples—and both wheels are 18″ alloy rims laced with stainless steel spokes. Giffin did the paint himself, and says, “I went with the earlier tank style because I think the badges fit my look better. As with all customs, Buster has given me plenty of headaches along the way. But as you can see, it was worth it. He gets all the looks wherever I go, and handles like a sportbike at any speed and any angle.” Wouldn’t you love to have this machine in your garage? [Thanks to Peter Quigley for the tip.]

2009 Aprilia Dorsoduro 750 First Ride

The Aprilia Dorsoduro 750 brings supermoto looks and performance to American streets as a 2009 model.

Aprilia has bagged four World Supermoto titles since 2004 and it’s keen to extend this success to the showrooms. So, using the SL 750 Shiver as a base, the Italian marque produced the Dorsoduro, its first 750cc road-going Supermoto.

Mainstream Supermotos often look the part, but they’re usually a compromise of hard slim styling, a low fuel range and loose front-end handling. So I expected the Dorsoduro to have these very same characteristics that are evident in rival bikes like Ducati’s Hypermotard.

First up, the design. It’s cool. There’s no two ways about it. The Dorsoduro looks every inch a stylish Supermoto, and it’s one that has the edge on the barn-door-wide Hypermotard, whose mirrors do indeed flick back to make life a tad easier, but none of that’s necessary with the Aprilia. OK, so splitting through traffic still requires a sensible pace and a good degree of consideration, but that’s never a bad thing anyway. Plus the high 34.3-inch seat height and upright riding position gives you a perfect stance to negotiate the inevitable traffic jams.

The slow speed balance is also impressive. The steering lock, combined with the bike’s agility, makes chopping through stationary traffic simple and effortless. Changing direction, U-turning on a slender bridal track, none of it’s a challenge and all of it’s fun. Although the Dorsoduro slices through the heavy town traffic like a warm knife through butter, the lack of bungee hooks at the rear means carrying a change of clothes or work essentials would have to be confined to a rucksack. A small price to pay for getting to work on time with a smile on your face!

The slow speed balance is impressive. The steering lock, combined with the bike’s agility, makes chopping through stationary traffic simple and effortless.

Out on the motorway, I twisted the throttle until the red dot on the dash flashed frantically at 8000 rpm, reminding me to change up another gear. I worked though the six-speed box, tucking in as I reached top, with the light still manically morse-coding ‘slow-down’. The 90-degree V-twin reached its peak at 8750, offering a respectable 92 hp at that point, with the engine refusing to pass the 10k mark. By then you could expect to be hitting over 135mph. That’s more than enough for the road and plenty for a slender Supermoto. Waggling the handlebars at top pelt, I braced myself for the characteristic front end wobble. It came, but not to the degree that I’d expected. The Dorsoduro does move under duress, but it’s not overly nervous or twitchy.

Out on the twistier roads and fast sweepers, I barrelled into a bend that was rippled with good old fashioned badly-laid-asphalt. The front skipped lightly over the imperfections, with the bars wiggling from side to side like a sassy salsa dance move. But it wasn’t something that concerned me too much and I’d imagine a superbike would also react unfavourably in these conditions. So I just relaxed and let the bike sort itself out. And it did. Every time.

Jane puts it on 'F' mode and has a little front-wheel lofting fun on the able Supermoto.

Punching out of corners is an absolute hoot. The bike feels like it digs in deep, sucking up the road ahead with an insatiable appetite, depending on what mode you’re riding in. A simple flick of the starter button switches between three different engine mappings. It gives you a choice of how the power’s delivered, so you can find a solution that best suits your riding style and the circumstances. ‘R’ is for rain and although it offers the smoothest ride, it’s also the most sedate with the least engine braking. I found myself frustratingly snatching the throttle back the instant I’d exited a corner to squeeze every drop of potential power from the castrated Twin. Mode T is for Touring and it’s a fair compromise between the rain setting and the sportiest of all, which is, unsurprisingly called ‘S’. Opt for ‘T’ and you’ll have enough grunt to punch away at the lights, without the abruptness that’s part and parcel of the sports mode, but it still has all the same liveliness in the midrange. Swap to ‘S’ and expect a considerably harsher ride, especially in the lower revs. There’s a more immediate, almost snatchy feel which is great for an aggressive ride in the country, but less suited to a gentle potter. Which is why this bike really works. You can set it to suit your needs and the changes are really quite significant.

The 2009 Aprilia Dorsoduro has in-your-face Supermoto styling cues.

So, after playing with these options at every conceivable opportunity, I left the bike on the Touring setting and set off for a mini adventure. Throwing the bike around country lanes and generally hooning around is what it’s all about. It’s easy and addictive and it’s almost as though there’s a separate, hidden button which is permanently on ‘F’ for Fun.

It’s a road-going Supermoto. And by the very nature of the beast, some things are a given. The seat’s high and on the hard side, the tank holds just 3.7 gallons ( I managed to get 40mpg on my test ride) and there’s no wind protection, but it’s still more comfortable than you’d expect and I didn’t even notice any annoying vibrations. Bottom line? The Dorsoduro is yet another Supermoto success for Aprilia.

Aprilia Shiver vs Ducati Monster 696

2009 Aprilia Shiver 750

With all the attention big, shiny, mondo power street bikes get these days, it can be pretty easy to overlook small displacement motorcycles. I mean, doesn’t every rider need 170 horsepower at the twist of their wrist? We all need to accelerate from a standstill to 100 mph in eight seconds, right? Who wouldn’t want to lay thick, 100-foot long strips of rubber on pavement?

While there will always be a small percentage of the moto population looking to carry out such hijinx, the fact is, the majority of riders who wish to keep their driving privileges need something a bit more practical. These days, though, a huge spectrum of motorbikes fit the bill, so let’s narrow it down.

2009 Ducati Monster 696

First and foremost, it’s got to be chic. Style is everything and it’s got to come first. Next up, versatility. Whether you’re dodging between cars during the heat of rush hour or blasting down wavy back roads, the bike has got to be fun, agile and easy-to-ride. Finally, there’s the almighty dollar. Not only does the price tag have to be reasonable, but it’s got to go easy on expendables like fuel and tires, plus something the wife isn’t going to kill you for spending, right? This leads us to Ducati’s Monster 696 and Aprilia’s Shiver 750.

Okay, so they’re both made in Italy, both aimed at the same style conscious rider and both include a price tag under nine grand. But beside those three common denominators, however, they’re substantially different machines. To find out how they stacked up against each other we hauled them out to the racetrack, followed by a few hundred mile sorties through the not-so-mean streets of Southern California. Let’s see how they stack up, shall we?

2009 Aprilia Mana 850 Review

The Aprilia Mana 850 provides motorcycle performance and feel, but with its automatic Sportgear transmission.

The Aprilia Mana 850 will be a motorcycle of consequence. At least that’s the conclusion I come to while swooping through curves on Southern Californian backroads aboard the Piaggio Group’s pitch for the entry-level/crossover crowd. Corner after corner I dip the bike in, rolling on and off the throttle, no shifts to worry about, no clutch to pull.

Sure, the Mana and its unconventional automatic Sportgear transmission could just as easily flop - remembered as an oddity, an unsuccessful offshoot in motorcycle evolution. Yet, whatever its fate, here it is, the Mana, a full-fledged motorcycle flaunting the unofficial rule that twist-and-go simplicity always be relegated to the scooter realm.

The naked Mana is a motorcycle plain enough, with obvious chain-drive and a 90-degree V-Twin powerplant on display. Only closer inspection reveals the lack of a clutch lever, made possible by the Sportgear transmission, a CVT design with four separate drive modes.

The Mana's Sportgear transmission has four settings - three fully-automatic "Autodrive" and one manual sequential-shift mode.

The first three “Autodrive” settings: Sport, Touring and Rain, are fully automatic engine mappings, selected by the rider via right side switchgear button. The fourth setting, a manual sequential shift mode dubbed Sportgear, operates similar to a traditional gearbox. Seven gear ratios are modulated by a traditional pedal or +/- trigger switch on the left-side switchgear.

In practical application, the Autodrive settings make a noticeable difference in power delivery. In Sport the engine revs high, with quicker acceleration - at least we felt it revs higher, as the Mana has no tach to gauge the RPM. Rain mode, which unlike the others makes an audible clunk once selected, has a more relaxed throttle delivery for its intended wet-weather application. Touring is a happy medium and preferred default setting. In all three auto modes a rider can manually downshift, for better acceleration on passing maneuvers. But once committed to the mindless application of Autodrive, I found it much simpler to just twist the throttle and go.

In fact, the auto setting works so well I found little interest in operating in the Sportgear mode at all. The manual shift mode does a decent job simulating a regular gearbox with seamless upshifts, but I didn’t shift better than the computer – so what’s the point? The entire system, which is electronically controlled, is idiot proof. Even in manual mode the bike will downshift when it needs to and stalling the Mana is impossible.

Power delivery from the CVT is linear with smooth throttle response; the differences between the three Autodrive modes are palpable. We managed an indicated mid-110s for top speed and at 75mph there’s plenty extra for quick passes during freeway commutes.

Peak power numbers are well-suited to entry-level riders. Dyno stats courtesy of Mickey Cohen Motorsports.

The liquid-cooled 839cc Twin may not be the earth-trembling torque monster of its Italian brethren, but sticking the Mana in fourth ‘gear’ it spun the Mickey Cohen Motorsports dyno up to 54 hp and 39 lb-ft torque. While speed junkies will be underwhelmed by the SOHC four-valve Twin’s performance, it is more than adequate for spirited street riding and a playful match for the entry-level/intermediate riders it is marketed toward.

“For an entry level motorcycle the power is more than acceptable,” says MCUSA Video Editor Robin Haldane. “I found that the Mana Twin got you up to speed quickly but was very easy to control.”

“I was very surprised, actually,” says MCUSA Executive Editor Steve Atlas, a former professional racer and expert rider. “I thought I was going to hate it, but considering this goes up against scooters and is fully automatic, I was fairly impressed. The engine gets up and goes well for a CVT-driven auto.”

Yes, the missing clutch lever took some getting used to, but it didn't take long to get used to the Mana's auto transmission.

In general the public reaction to the Mana on our test rides could best be described as curious contempt, with comments like, “that’s that scooter-type thing right?” Skepticism toward the automatic transmission may hover about the Mana, but there’s just not much fault to find in the system. It’s an automatic motorcycle – big deal!

The biggest quirk we experienced was acclimatizing to the lack of a clutch. Approaching a corner at high speed it was unnerving to keep instinctively reaching for an invisible lever, but the rider adapts untill... Clutches, shcmutches. Who needs ‘em anyway?

“I kept going for the clutch over and over,” adds Atlas. “It’s embedded in my brain that I need to be using my left hand all the time on a motorcycle and it took some serious coaxing to get myself used to that. It did come in handy when I wanted to pick up Starbucks, though!”

One foible of the CVT system is the need for a parking brake, located on the left side of the engine/frame. But even that eccentricity, once accustomed to, became appreciated as a convenience – in particular while parking on a sloped surface.

No one will mistake the Mana's handling capabilities with those of a scooter once the road starts getting twisty.

The scooter stigma associated with the Mana is shattered in the handling department. There is nothing remotely scooter-ish about it. Sporting a 57.5-inch wheelbase, 24-degree rake and 4.05-inches of trail, the Mana is all motorcycle and a deft handler at that. The center of gravity feels quite low to the ground, with the Mana carrying rear-weight bias of 53.9% - the fuel stored underseat. The steering is quick, yet easy to control, and with a 491-lb tank empty weight, it still transitions side-to-side without trouble (the Mana weighed in at 516 lbs full of fuel).

The 43mm front fork is non-adjustable, with preload and rebound adjustment available on the rear shock. The front end felt reliable, with stock fork settings more than adequate for entry-level use - although faster riders will pine for adjustment options.

“Compared to a scooter, the handling is for sure its shining point,” says Atlas. “It’s a full-sized motorcycle with bike wheels and stickier tires and no scooter could keep this thing in sight.”

“At fast speeds in longer sweeping corners I found the Mana to get slightly uneasy, leaving me a little less confident than I would have liked,” admits Robin, before adding, “the chassis allows for quick side-to-side turns, however, allowing you to rock ‘n roll through a tight canyon road quite well.”

The front brakes on the Mana were more than capable (top). The quirky parking brake (middle) and trigger shifter (bottom) won't be found on any other ride.

The dual 320mm front discs brakes overachieved and display considerable initial bite from the radial-mount four-piston calipers.

“Good initial bite paired with great feel left me very happy with the brakes,” agrees Robin. “I was able to come up on a corner pretty hot and feel confident that I could slow down in time to make it through.”

“Great brakes, probably overkill even for this machine,” adds Atlas. “They have ample feel and feedback, plus way more than enough power.”

Hard braking before a corner actually exhibited another quirk, as there were a few occasions where my glove stuck on the throttle while pulling the brake. It’s a lazy riding technique, but you’d be surprised how often it would happen as most riders pull in the clutch downshifting while decelerating. It would make sense on the Mana to separate the right side controls, mounting the brake lever on the left handlebar, except that arrangement would be catastrophic when riders mistake it for the traditional clutch - which they undoubtedly would!

At 6'1", the Mana felt smallish to me, but not uncomfortable. The riding position is upright and standard, with a pleasant pinch of mild sportiness. Handlebar placement is natural, but taller riders will find leg room on the snug side. Those shorter statured, however, should get along well and not find the 31.4-inch seat height intimidating.

“The relaxed ergos are great for around town and help make the bike a lot of fun to ride,” agrees Robin, “however, during our long three-day ride I would have appreciated a little more leg room and maybe a small windscreen.”

Under the pillion seat is the 4.2-gallon fuel tank – good enough for about a 170-mile range with our observed 41.6 MPG efficiency. Oddly enough, there’s not a fuel meter on the Mana – that we could find. A lot of redundant info like real-time MPG and average MPG efficiency is available on the instrument console, but really, what possible advantage can a rider glean from momentary glimpses of fuel efficiency? The white background speedo is best feature on the so-so instrument panel.

A convenient commuter or weekend playbike, the Mana is an intriguing option for entry-level or scooter riders looking for a fun ride without stressing over a clutch.

We did, however, appreciate the unexpected storage where the traditional fuel tank would reside. Full-face helmet storage is possible, but while one rider’s medium-size Shoei would fit, my large-size modular wouldn’t. Still, the storage space is eminently convenient – boosting its commuter advantages.

Style-wise the Mana looks the part of a naked street bike. It would seem Aprilia designers were keen on balancing the unconventional drivetrain with a traditional motorcycle look and feel.

“Overall I would give the Mana a 6 out of 10 if compared to other motorcycles, but compared to scooters, I’d have to give it an 8 or 9 out of 10,” Atlas concludes. “For all you experienced riders looking for a sporting machine, this just isn’t it. But for those looking to ditch the scooter and make their way into the motorcycle world, this may be an ideal option.”

At $9899, the Mana MSRP is steep, in particular during these down economic times. Yet it seems like there has to be a market for the Mana, one that has been untapped for years. New riders will enjoy the innovative mount and I’d wager that even skeptical riders would admit grudging respect for the Mana after a day in the saddle. It is a refined package and worthy of a place on American roadways and dealer showrooms.

2009 Aprilia RSV4 Factory First Ride

Our friend Michael Neeves from Motorcycle News UK got an early go on the ultra-compact Aprilia RSV4 superbike.

Not even grey skies, rain and a sodden Misano race track can dampen MCN’s excitement for Aprilia’s new £14,999 RSV4 Factory. We’ve waited a long time to ride the Italian firm’s dazzling new V4 superbike, which cost 25 million Euros and three and a half years to develop, but it’s been worth it.

We’ll have to wait a little longer to ride it in anger in the dry, but even in soaking conditions, it’s clear this is shaping up to be one of the best superbikes ever built.

A slightly damp Senior road tester, Michael Neeves, tells us the five reasons why:

V4 Power Delivery

Riding in the wet is something usually to be tolerated rather than enjoyed, but I loved every drenched, visor-steamed moment on the RSV4 Factory in the rain at Misano, which makes slippery Donington look grippy in the wet. When the chequered flag came out to signal the end of each of our riding sessions I could’ve cried.

The Pirelli racing wets had a lot to do with this, as did the softened Ohlins suspension to suit the conditions, and the beautifully responsive chassis. But the main reason I was having so much fun is down to Aprilia’s new 999.6cc 65-degree V4 engine, the jewel in the RSV4’s crown.

Six-foot tall Neeves just manages to squeeze on the tiny RSV4. Smaller riders fit, and look, better.

The V4 Aprilia is as friendly and easy to ride in the conditions as a Suzuki SV650, but with the straight line speed a FireBlade would be proud of.

With the medium of the three engine maps selected, getting on the throttle out of a corner and feeling for grip in the wet is easy. I’m not tensing up, waiting for a big bang of power to come crashing in like with a conventional Inline-Four or big, brutal V-Twin. Everything seems to happen in slow motion, thanks to the RSV4’s linear torque curve and seemingly lazy power delivery.

Off the throttle it’s the same story. Pile into a slippery turn, bang down through the gears and the RSV4’s slipper clutch removes most of the engine braking and prevents rear wheel lock-up on all but the most slippery sections.

Along the straights the Aprilia’s equally impressive. With the throttle pinned to the stop, power just builds and builds. Sophisticated electronics silently monitor everything to perfection: a flutter of exhausts valves, fuel injection squirts, fly-by-wire inputs and variable-length inlet trumpets all work with the magical V4 layout, so there are no big steps in power. What you get is seamless speed, a hardening engine note and increasing pull on your arms, stomach muscles and neck as you hang on under acceleration all the way until the power drops off at 12,500rpm.

Short-shifting is the best way to get a move on in the rain. Using the motor’s deep well of mid-range torque, it’s flexible enough to use a gear higher through the corners or to change up along the straights around 9-10,000rpm instead of the redline. It gives the rear tire an easier time and still lets you turn in serious speed. The gearbox also works better under less load. The changes are quite slow using full throttle and is crying out for a quick-shifter.

The chassis and suspension has so much feel you can open the throttle hard and the Aprilia RSV4 digs in and flies around bends.

There’s lots of low-down grunt, a fat midrange and a storming top end, a fantastic mix of big twin and Inline-Four. Now where have we heard that before lately? Yep, it’s a lot like the new cross plane crank R1 in that it has usable power everywhere. It’s deep, growling engine note is similar, too. But unlike the Yamaha, the engine is far more compact, which allows the RSV4 to be smaller and more agile.

The V4 motor is so linear and smooth. As WSB rider Shinja Nakano told me: “It doesn’t feel fast, but the speed is there.” It is deceptive and it’s only when a corner rushes up and it’s time to brake you realise how damn quick you’re going.

With a claimed 180bhp at the crank, I reckon it’ll make around 150-155bhp at the rear wheel when we get to dyno it. That’s a bit down on the best of the Inline-Four superbikes, but as the new R1 has recently taught us, it’s not how much power you have, but how you use it.

It’s the Complete Package

The RSV4’s motor is powerful and flexible – but it’s physically small, too (around 175mm narrower than an Inline-Four) and that allows the RSV4 to be extremely compact. What’s more, it all works as one, Swiss Watch-like, a tightly-packed, harmonious package between engine and chassis.

Considering the conditions, there’s not much I can tell you about the RSV4’s handling other than there’s lots of feel transmitted through the chassis. The Ohlins forks and rear shock have a superb range of adjustment and today are softened off to give lots of movement in the rain for feel, and they still give the support needed for relatively hard braking and acceleration.

With its MotoGP-style short engine/long swingarm layout, rear tire grip is maximised and it’s the same trick now being used on the new GSX-R1000 K9 and Fireblade.

The riding position is very racy, with low bars and high pegs, but with plenty of room to move back and forth on the seat, there’s little sensation of bulk on the move. It feels short, like a supersport 400 and there’s no lazy weight transfer on and off the throttle like a typically big litre bike. Side to side, the RSV4 is incredibly agile.

The 'sport' map allows you to ride the RSV4’s seamless mid-range torque rather than hold onto risky revs in the wet.

Variable Engine Maps

Life wouldn’t have been quite as rosy in the wet if it wasn’t for the RSV4’s choice of three engine maps. I used the ‘sport’ map for most of the riding sessions, as it lops off 25% of the V4’s torque in the first three gears, making it friendlier getting on the gas out of corners. In the high gears you still get full-fat power to play with.

I also tried the ‘road’ map, which gives you around 140bhp and very soft power, enough for it to be possible to hold the throttle wide open for more of the time, although it wasn’t powerful enough to get down the longer straights quick enough. I didn’t try the full-fat ‘track’ map with full power and torque in the first three gears, as there’s more than enough power there already in ‘sport’ mode in the wet. I didn’t want to join the eight or so fellow journos who tasted wet Misano tarmac during the launch, either. One even fell off following the camera car, so dodgy were the conditions. We’ll wait for a dry test to sample full power in the lower gears.

This back straight section allowed Neeves to give the RSV4 full throttle for a few seconds, pushing him right back in his seat and unleashing the roar of the V4.

The Noise...

The roar of a V4 superbike is a rare thing on our roads, but get used to it because the Aprilia is coming and it sounds spectacular. The RSV4’s racket is distinctive Aprilia and is remarkably similar to the RSV twin, but with a howling, dirty metallic MotoGP V4 overtone. God, I want an RSV4!

The Beauty

Ogling the RSV4 in pitlane I wasn’t sure if I’d wet myself or if the rain had finally soaked through my leathers. It is beautiful. It’s not shiny and blinged out like a Ducati.It’s more subtle, like a factory MotoGP bike. The styling is gorgeous, especially the Batmobile tail unit (a pillion seat and pegs are an optional extra, but don’t bother, I’ve seen bigger bird tables); the compactness awe-inspiring; the attention to detail absolute.
According to Aprilia, as it was built as a race bike first and foremost, it’s easy to take apart, too, which makes the guys and girls on the Aprilia production line in Noale happy. To take the engine out there’s just one electrical connector to unclip, despite the host of electronics on-board.