You have to admire the Italians. They bring such flair and style to their motorcycles. Even the Japanese would be reluctant to chop a tuned, watercooled, stroker single. I will admit that the Red Rose is a little garish to some tastes but I was easily won over by its looks. At just over three grand new I was not moved by its price until I saw a used one for sale at £2250.
The owner was a frantic midget who took me for a blast around suburbia that almost made me throw up. It was obvious that the 125cc engine was in no way laid back, screaming up to 10,000rpm with the kind of wail that made the hairs on the back of my neck go rigid. A slight oil leak, ruined chain and some rust on the chrome were sufficient bargaining points to get the price down to a more reasonable £1750. Not bad for a ten month, 8000 mile old bike.
The next couple of weeks were spent getting used to the gearbox and finicky nature of the power. There was nothing wrong with the box or clutch, both smooth and progressive, but I kept forgetting which gear I had selected. A potentially disastrous failing as the engine could bog down without much encouragement. Below 3500rpm there was absolutely no power and at 6500 revs there was a disturbing flat spot that often required slicing down two gears to overcome.
It was just as well that the riding position was so relaxing, allowing me to concentrate on getting to grips with the power output. Come 7000 revs the bike sprinted away rapidly, calling for frenzied footwork on the box to keep the tacho from going deep into the red. Doing this in the lower gears there was enough guts to get the front wheel up in the air with a slight jerk on the Harley-style bars.
It was whilst enjoying the gasps of admiration from cagers as I mono-wheeled between them that I came down to earth with a bang. Some jerk had decided it was an ideal moment to open his car door. The long front forks were rudely bent and I did some damage to my intimate parts when I hit the bars. The spoked front wheel was wedged into the open window of the car! Try explaining that to the plod.
Aprilia parts turned out so rare that I ended up having the forks straightened and the wheel rebuilt. Handling, with both wheels on the ground, seemed pretty good to me. There weren't any weaves or wobbles even over bumpy going. The frame is a simple tubular affair with twin rear shocks, the latter needed turning up to their highest settings.
The long, 60 inch, wheelbase helps stability. As do the meaty Phantom tyres. The long front forks could prove reluctant to turn into corners, but it was really just a question of brute force. The only serious accident I had at speed was when I went into a tight corner too fast. Ended up with the bike running wide out of the corner, hitting some gravel on the wrong side of the road. The tyres slid away from the bike, leaving me spinning off, as the bike tore huge chunks of grass out of the verge.
I was more severely injured from gravel rash than the bike was from sliding along the grass - the bars were bent and a few minor ancillaries torn off. I was so pissed off that I kicked the bike several times, which did more damage to my foot than the motor's alloy. The engine screamed into life the moment I touched the electric start, ticking over at 10,000 revs as the cable had snagged when the bars were bent. I must've looked well weird, riding with one handlebar end a foot higher than the other, but we made it back.
Maybe it was the crash, or just my own neglect, but 150 miles after that the engine partially seized. The heat coming off the motor was disconcerting, caused by the radiator being half empty. I let the whole thing cool down and begged a jug of water off a nearby house - the owner was reluctant and watched over me to make sure I didn't make off with the jug.
The engine freed up okay and ran almost as well as before, there was just a slight reluctance to pull 10,000rpm. Screaming through the gears put 90mph on the clock with a bit of a following gale. Into a strong wind, though, top speed was much nearer 70mph in fifth; sixth proving almost impossible to use under those circumstances. Despite the mere 270lbs of chassis, taking a pillion, however slight, had a similar effect on acceleration and speed. Not much fun, although the pillion accommodation is comfortable enough for 100 mile or more runs.
Those conditions would cause the fuel to take a dive to 50mpg, although usually more than 60mpg was possible - quite reasonable given that the motor was caned for most of the time. There was always a bit of an oil smokescreen, more so in town than out of it. I found it reassuring, at least I knew some oil was getting through to the bearings!
The engine running went to pot when the valve on the exhaust port became stuck. It felt like the engine was continuingly seizing and freeing up but a few taps with the hammer sorted it. A bit after that the exhaust became rather loud, the flat spot becoming wider, but it seemed to run better between 2000 and 4000rpm.
About a month later, the front disc brake lost most of its power. There's another disc at the back, the pair combined produced sufficient power to turn the tyres molten. The front caliper turned out to be gummed up and the pads down to the metal (this with 13,200 miles done). Spares, again, proved elusive but I eventually tracked down some pads and put the caliper back together. The pads cost over thirty notes - unbelievable. It never worked quite so well after that, but was still more than powerful enough to take the Red Rose's speed.
The Aprilia started reacting badly to wet weather. The chrome went brown with rust whilst the water got deeply enough into the electrical system to cause the engine to cough and die. One time this happened, the car behind stopped so abruptly that the car behind back-ended him. I denied everything, of course, eventually leaving the cagers to fight it out. Made my day.
An expensive purchase of a carton full of WD40 cans solved the worst of it. By selectively spraying different components I eventually narrowed it down to the ignition coil, which got a daily coating of WD40. At 15000 miles the indicator switch fell apart and the front light took to blowing. The lamp had been quite good, allowing 50mph on unlit roads.
Of course, the bulb had to blow halfway through a weekend blitz up north. My mate, with a Cagiva Blues, was well used to the electrical proclivities of Italian iron, we managed to fit one of his spare bulbs. The bikes were evenly matched in speed but the Cagiva was better natured if less stable.... it didn't really matter, though, both bikes were so light that they were easy to control whatever the road conditions.
Nearing 18000 miles I thought I detected a decline in power, nothing major just a reluctance to run cleanly at high revs. I tried a new spark plug (they rarely lasted more than 1000 miles) and new air filter (surprisingly cheap at just over a fiver) but they did not help. The last thing I wanted was to end up having to rebuild the engine of an extremely rare Italian stroker (I doubted there were any in breakers), so I tried to sell mine for £1600. Absolutely no replies.
It wasn't much better going around the dealers asking for a trade-in. I'd cleaned the bike up until it shone brightly and the engine still ran with a minimal amount of rattling. Most dealers took one look at it and reckoned it would be impossible to sell for serious money. I tried a private advert at £1250; still no replies. I finally managed to get £1500 off a new Kawasaki EN500 - far from my first choice of replacement machine.
Alan Hughes