In A Class By Itself
IN A CLASS BY ITSELF
WHEN I PICKED UP THE Le Mans from Moto Guzzi's Baltimore, Maryland, headquarters, my plan was to put it through the wringer of a road test, with the emphasis on the kind of sport riding at which the Le Mans series historically excelled. Editor Dean and I agreed that the only concession we would make to the bike's being on the Wrong Coast would be to eliminate the usual specifications, many of which are acquired through use of the magazine's computerized third-wheel test equipment. Because the third-wheel had to be elsewhere during the period I'd have the Guzzi, we grudgingly decided to make this a "riding impression." This way, you readers would still get the important technicalia and subjective stuff; quarter-mile times and the like were, we reasoned, mostly irrelevant.
A week after I got the bike, I con cluded that not only were the thirdwheel data irrelevant, but that the very idea of doing a typical riding im pression on the Le Mans was next to ludicrous. If you care about miles per gallon (about 40, for those who think about such things), how the bike works two-up, the wattage of the headlight and so on, this is the wrong bike for you. Just as Yamaha's FZ750 says "Pure Sports" on its flank, this Guzzi says "Pure Flash," albeit not in stick-on lettering, but with its acres of shocking red paint.
Performance? Adequate, for any sane rider. See the reference to Dr. John's Team Moto Guzzi.
Handling? See above. Quirks? Dozens. Begin with the centerand sidestand, both of which require learning new skills to use, and which can cause heartburn if not fully mastered. Then consider the handlebar switches, which also call
for the burning-in of new use-pat terns in the rider's brain. They're not as ludicrous as those on last year's 850 T-5; they're reversed from that arrangement, but it's still possible to go for the headlight dimmer switch and instead overreach with your throttle-side thumb and inadver tently kill the engine.
Then there's the damping adjust ment on the excellent rear shocks. Koni designed the 7610s so that to change the damping, you have only to turn the little knurled knob at the top of the shock body. Except that on this bike, the wonderful red waves of plastic swoop right over the shocks. To adjust them, then, you have to take off the seat, unhitch the forward section of the sidepanel, swing it out gingerly (it's attached at the rear via two 10mm bolts to the rear seat sec tion), peel up the rubber boot over each knob, then adjust to the desired setting. Likewise, to adjust the air pressure in the front fork, you have to snake your air chuck in to the rightside aircap very carefully-if it will fit at all. Should you want to use the four-way flasher, you grope for ward into the bikini fairing body and
find the square button. Not easy to do at night, since it's not illuminated. Fi nally, should you wish to dial-in some steering damper to slow down the front wheel (a desirable goal, you discover quickly), you must stop, reach between the right front of the gas tank and the fairing strake, and twist the body of the damper until you get the damping level you wantwhich, of course, you must discover by trial and error.
Comfort? You must be joking. This is a Le Mans.
Fit and finish? Surprisingly good for an Italian sportbike. But some things are still, well, Italian, such as the idea of simply painting the red plastic black in places. At 739 miles on the clock, the paint was already flaking off the grab-rail area. And both of the little plastic tabs that plug the clip-ons vibrated out during my time with the bike. Still, there are nice details this year, such as the fusebox under the seat, with Euro pean-style pull-out fuses. Overall rating? Tops in its class. But then, what else is in a class with the Moto Guzzi Le Mans 1000?
Steven L. Thompson
