Ride

Text: Ashish Jha Images: Anil Kumar
Triumph Speed Triple
	My previous set of leathers has lived its life. I need a new one, so does Jared. But there’s a problem – we’ve decided on getting our suits from the Far East. You see, the guys in that region of the globe are intensely into biking, and practice motorcycling as a religion. Thailand, for example, is primarily famous for three things – its cuisine, sex-tourism, and motorcycling. So – for the first time ever – it so happened that we appear to have chosen wisely. Or have we? You see, the issue is that the guys there are rather small. It is, therefore, hugely difficult to get a riding suit that would fit us properly. We’re rather tall – in comparison. Jared, for example, is 6-feet-three – probably three more than his Thai friends could ever manage. So, we’re still searching for something that would fit us. Nevertheless, if someone’s going to Thailand, please write in to us with the subject reading – I’m going to Thailand to get cross-eyed, and I like carrying back other people’s luggage. So there – I didn’t have my riding suit. And when I heard that Ikjot would be more than willing to let me swing a leg over his Triumph Speed Triple and take it for a spin, I was more worried than excited. Not because I’d be riding a grown-up motorcycle without protection, but because I didn’t want him to form an opinion that we’re not responsible, serious bikers, having come without leathers. You see, he’s a die-hard. So, after shaking hands, chewing a lot of fat talking bikes, checking out his stunning red RD that will see the nip-and-tuck room soon, and the massive Honda Goldwing – I shamelessly asked if I could get the keys to the Triple. He finally handed them over to me, but only after checking himself if the bike was running in top shape. As we headed out, at mere crawling pace, the instant thought was that of the Triple being a really special bike. The most impressive naked that I’d ridden lately was the Honda CB1000R – that was smooth, silent, speedy, and didn’t miss a beat the whole week I had it. The Triple felt almost exactly the same. Just that it wasn’t. This Triumph, she wasn’t silent for starters – but more on that later.
	I had to do a fair amount of research as this was the first time I was riding, and writing about, a Triumph. And it was also for the first time that I used a calculator, and failed. Triumph’s PR bumf for this Triple said that the brakes have 12% more initial bite, and 14% more braking performance. I used all the mathematics I knew, employed all the equations I’d heard of, and even started reading about inertia and other things I never understood before. But I still couldn’t get my head around just how Triumph managed to come to those readings. They perhaps counted the number of grains on the tarmac it took for the Triple to stop from light speed – I don’t know! Times have progressed, and motorcycle design has evolved over the years. So today, this Speed Triple may not be anything spectacular to look at. However, it’s individualistic nonetheless. It’s a relatively small bike – taut and muscular, and the twin headlamp cluster gives it an unmistakable identity. And that’s how Triumph has always been – they don’t want their bikes to simply do a look-at-me like some other poseurs. In fact, Triumph has a history of doing things a bit differently – and not being shouty about it. I liked the CB1000R – so much so that I even thought it was the perfect big bike for India. But then I also said that it lacked that little something, and that it was a bit clinical – but I was always confused about what that crucial element was. Well, the Triumph helped me identify that missing part. It’s not really a tangible thing – it’s something called emotion. Forgive me in advance for getting a bit technical here, but this bike demands it. The tubular frame is a development of the 1997 Daytona 595, but everything else is changed. The 45mm inverted forks come softly set so that the ride isn’t choppy, and your arms don’t part ways from your shoulders. But even if your riding habit borders on the mental end of the spectrum, the Triple has you covered. The forks are adjustable for spring pre-load, as well as compression and rebound damping. The engine is a 1,050cc three-cylinder DOHC fuel injected affair that’s good for 128bhp and 105Nm. The 6-speed gearbox features a backlash eliminator gear, and requires minimal travel to select the next gear while there’s a four-piston Nissin radial calliper setup biting a couple of 320mm floating discs to provide the stupendous braking ability that we already talked about.
	Ah, a sigh of relief now that the obligatory technical bits are over. The engine handiwork and everything else is fine, but what kept me going ballistic in the speed runs was the instrument panel. Yes – you hear about the lustful engine performance all the time, but hardly hear about an insignificant thing such as an instrument cluster being the reason for some seriously loud screams from within the helmet. But here there’s a shift indicator that you can program according to your demand. It’s like a race-spec machine. The shift lights go from green to red at the shift point you’ve set – so you could either see red at as early as 5 grand when you’re trundling about in town and not in the mood to get the front pointing skywards, or get it up to 9-and-a-half – where the engine is screaming with joy. So, the time it takes for the Speed Triple to go from being a cow to a hooligan is directly proportionate to the time it takes for your cerebral activity to go from rest to nuclear, which, in this case, isn’t long – considering the rage this thing hides in its heart. The stock exhaust has been dumped in favour of a CRM Velocity unit, and take me very serious when I say that the sound on the overrun is going to leave you in crisis. It’s one of the best sounds this side of a Su-30 I’ve heard on anything that goes on two wheels. It’s cruel, deep, throaty, raw – and yet it’s seductive. It’s like a demanding mistress whipping you into submission. The cat-free exhaust runs a pair of ceramic cans at the back end tucked neatly under the seat, which is almost 5 kilograms lighter than the stock unit. The weight comes off the high point of the bike, resulting in better mass centralization and a lower center of gravity. The engine gains its power via race spec iridium sparks, and the bike runs a Tuneboy engine management system that allows you to change the engine mapping and its power delivery characteristics. I am baffled at how Ikjot hasn’t managed to ruin the tyres of his Triple – there’s so much low-and-mid-range poke that it could do burnouts all day, as if that’s its favourite pastime. This bike is effortless and supremely comfortable. I’d always been a fan of CB1000R for its ability to go cruising for hours, but the Triple beats it – fair and square. It’s not just a powerful beast this thing – it’s also remarkably refined, well put together, tractable, and still manages lift-offs in 1st and 2nd gear without even giving the throttle any serious twist. And it handles – oh-my-God it handles. It’s intuitive, neutral, and eager. It’s a bike that you can use for your usual Monday-to-Friday commute – and then on the weekends, it’ll transform into a corner hungry cat. I love this motorcycle – it’s by far the most complete and emotionally stirring machine that I’ve ridden in a long time. Thank you Ikjot, for letting me ride this one. It gave proper meaning to that one day in my life.