Super Standards

Flying V

October 1 2000 Mark Hoyer
Super Standards
Flying V
October 1 2000 Mark Hoyer

SUPER Standards

Flying V

Guzzi gets it (mostly) right

MARK HOYER

THIS IS A MOTO GUZZI? IT DOES SAY SO RIGHT on the tank. And on the engine. It's seconded by the way it rocks to the right when you blip the throttle at a stoplight. And in how you can see the cylinders sticking out in the breeze as the big V-Twin chuffs out its familiar staccato beat.

But where are the traditional Guzzi quirks? Where is the clunky, long-throw, five-speed, the long-ofwheelbase slow steering, the classic Italian handslow, ass-high seating position?

Well, not here, so who cares?! What matters is that the VI1 Sport is a different kind of Moto Guzzi, one that brings the eight-decade-old company’s product into the modem era in terms of performance and function, without disturbing the essential character we’ve come to love.

One of the main elements that makes the $11,900 VI1 so different from Guzzis past is its new sixspeed gearbox. While only one of many positive changes (hydraulic clutch, hotted-up two-valver engine, aggressive chassis geometry), it is the one most emblematic of the change this bike represents. There’s a ratio for every comer, and it snaps from cog to cog with a most un-Guzzi-like smoothness.

In fact, this isn’t just a good Guzzi gearbox, it’s a good gearbox, period.

A shame about sixth gear, then, for while it’s nice to have, you find yourself reluctant to use it. Normally, the 1064cc 90-degree V-Twin asserts itself in a friendly way, vibing pleasantly along just like you’d expect such a powerplant to do. But there is some peculiarity of design in the VI1 that makes the bars shake at certain rpm like no M-G I’ve ever ridden. Think of the clip-ons as tubular amps for the engine’s vibration. When your mind is occupied with the entertainment of the roost, you don’t notice, and play power only really gets serious at about five grand anyway, which is Smooth City. But snick it into sixth at normal highway cruising speed, say 65-85 mph (essentially below 5000 rpm), and it feels like Buddy Rich is kicking down a drum roll on your palms. Run like that long enough and it will put your hands to sleep-which is fine if you’re on your way to the doctor for some carpal-tunnel surgery. It’s the most serious (actually, only) comfort issue with the bike.

Otherwise, the V11 has a great sportriding position and a good seat. It’s a nice place to spend some quality riding time.

Particularly if you can place the maximum number of turns between departure and arrival. With the old Sport 1100-the absolute picture of chassis stability-initiating a turn went something like this: Dear Chassis, it has come to my attention that the road veers from center in the forthcoming miles, and I should like to initiate a turn roughly equal to the arc traversed by the tarmac... After a lengthy correspondence, all proper documents signed, you get your tum-a nice arcing Hail wood-style curve. Great for fast sweepers, a bear in the tight stuff.

The new V11 snaps right over by comparison-instant messaging, if you will, deal done in a handshake. Want to late-apex a blind comer so

you can see what you’re getting into? No problem. You can wait a long time before you commit, then get all your turning done in a quick flick. Chassis feel is excellent, and the bike delivers a very high sense of traction front and rear.

The big Brembos are awesome, too, with good feedback and power.

In fact, this chassis is good enough that cornering clearance became an issue in aggressive street riding. In left turns, the kickstand at least gives you some warning that more-fixed items may follow suit, but in rights, the first whack is taken by the exhaust can. It’s too bad, because there’s plenty of tire and chassis left. Makes us wonder why they even bothered to put “hero tabs” on the footpegs-they weren’t even close to touching down. So it’s best to sort of saunter down to max lean. If you’re a track-day type, you’ll want to work out the cornering-clearance issue with some aftermarket exhaust cans, and maybe a healthy dose of spring preload.

The price for the Guzzi’s newfound quick steering is a tendency toward the odd head twitch (or was that me?), although with the adjustable Bitubo steering damper-even set to minimum-any chassis oscillation was halted after a maximum of three or so cycles of decreasing magnitude. Glad to have the damper on board, certainly.

Mostly, though, sporting around the mountains was a joyful experience and not dissimilar from what you get with a fuel-injected Ducati Monster 900S. Straight-line performance is, in fact, essentially equal, the VI1 galloping through the quarter-mile in 11.95 seconds, while the Monster takes 12.01. A

wash in that regard, and on par with other bikes in the naked class, as well. Top-gear roll-on performance is good, particularly from 40-60 mph. The VI l’s time of 3.87 seconds is brisk (quicker than a 996 Duc, and a 1-second improvement over the old Sport 1100), and the 6080 time of 4.37 is pretty solid, too.

The Guzzi’s engine doesn’t have quite the same snap as the Ducati’s, though. Combustion in the VI1 seems somehow softer, less exuberant. Maybe this is because the Guzzi, at 513 pounds, weighs about 100 pounds more than the Monster, simply sucking up the ponies. Still, throttle response is excellent, and the fuel-injection mapping is very well sorted. When cold (insofar as it gets cold in our SoCal summer), the engine fires after a short bit of cranking, but once it decides to light, it stays lit, and you can ride away immediately. The 77 horsepower and 62 foot-pounds of torque come in the upper half of the rev range, but there’s plenty of urge down low (55 ft.-lbs. at 3300 rpm), so chugging your way through the urban sprawl’s quotidian crawl is as pleasant as it can be.

Nice touches include a normal kickstand that doesn’t automatically retract and can be raised and lowered without your having to get off the bike; and a new, light-pull, hydraulically actuated clutch (though this could have better feel). It’s also nice that the oil cooler is mounted high now, just under the steering head. On the Sport 1100, it was mounted near the bottom of the engine, just behind the front wheel-in other words, a stone’s throw from begin punctured by debris. The Italians are getting so practical it’s

spooky.

The VI1 is an excellent caferacer/naked bike, upholding proudly the traditional Moto Guzzi virtues and all but eliminating the drawbacks. Fix the handlebar vibration, throw on a pair of slip-on mufflers to increase cornering clearance (and add a bit of sound), and the V11 Sport is a Moto Guzzi for the long haul.

In fact, this bike may actually disturb traditional Guzzi codgers by being “too good.” For the rest of us, the VI1 makes perfect sense, and brings M-G to a new level. With Aprilia’s recent purchase of the history-rich company, one expects this may only be the beginning.

For now, the VI1 is character without quirks. In other words, perfectly Moto Guzzi.