The day of the big single has finally arrived on the secondhand market with examples from Aprilia, BMW, Gilera and Kawasaki, amongst others, on offer. It's taken a long time coming, since the fifties when long stroke Brit thumpers ruled the roost - fine if you never wanted to do more than 70mph and could master the leg shattering kickstart. Ducati were the major exponents of the genre in the seventies, but though powerful and frugal they were also vibratory and finicky, to say nothing about the broken ankles. Various Rotax engined devices didn't inspire much admiration in the eighties but were quite worthy motorcycles in their way.
The new generation of singles, 600 to 650cc in capacity, are watercooled, short of stroke and excessive in the number of valves they sport. High technology means pistons and con-rods hewed down to the minimal mass, resulting in a marked decrease in vibes which are finished off with a gear driven balancer. The four or five valves are necessary to get the fuel and air into the huge combustion chamber, though none of these machines can match the frugality of the old Brits or Ducatis. Mechanical reliability is maintained by water-cooling and the fact that with a short stroke motor limited to a mere 8000 revs piston speeds are never dangerous.
All these bikes are trail or Dakar replica inspired, the engines showing the same kind of minimum metal as their two stroke cousins. The Aprilia motor's a joint venture with BMW and Rotax, the Pegaso mill unique in its five valve head. It's not a hard choice between the BMW and Aprilia, the Pegaso being lighter, more powerful and cheaper than the F650. The latter is more of a road bike, with a much lower seat height and an unmistakeable aura of quality, but that wasn't sufficient to stop me putting the Aprilia at the top of my list.
I was tempted by a Gilera RC600, a bike that was lighter and more powerful than even the Aprilia but as they don't make 'em any more spares were a major concern in my mind. I had no trouble finding a one year old, 3000 mile Pegaso for £2600 that looked like it'd just come out of the showroom.
The tall seat height (35 inches) was of immediate concern and must put off at least 50% of the possible punters - taking three or four inches out of the suspension travel would work wonders for the confidence of short-arsed bikers. I was able to cope as the seat was narrow where it met the tank and the 350lbs of metal was well balanced. That's far too much mass for off-road work. Incredibly, the bike has twin silencers, and a great swathe of largely useless plastic around the front end. It's a crying shame how manufacturers ruin the dynamics of modern machinery with excess mass.
These complaints were largely forgotten when I rode the bike, a great chunk of low end torque made the acceleration really strain arms and shoulders. No wild revs for this motor, all the action was over by 7000rpm, the bike powering ahead better when I changed up through the five speed box at six grand. A spot in the rev range where torque and power both appeared to peak out.
With its high front end, excess of gutsy power and wide bars it didn't take much effort to put the front wheel up around pedestrians' heads. On some motorcycles wheelies are positively dangerous, turning the machine into an accident looking for somewhere to happen, but not on the Aprilia. I've never come across a bike that was so easy to control on one wheel. It almost forced such madness upon the rider.
A very curious aspect of the Pegaso, given that it might be taken for the odd off-road blast, was that it couldn't do ninety degree turns in traffic without a lot of pushing and shoving, not to mention the odd screaming session at Joe Cager who tried to tighten up the gap between cars. A 58 inch wheelbase combined with limited steering lock's not quite what you'd expect on this type of bike. The tall seat height's useful in town and the long travel suspension was able to absorb the worst of the council's neglect.
The front disc brake left me feeling a bit doubtful, even pulling up at town speeds. Not so much as a lack of power from the two piston caliper but a very dead feel and absolutely no feedback until the tyre began to howl when the wheel locked up. The caliper was stamped with Aprilia's own name so they obviously have a little way to go in the design of brakes. Higher speed work was a bit better because I could feel the forks twisting against the forces from the single disc.
Sadly, a rear disc was also fitted, totally unnecessary for tarmac use let alone trail riding. It didn't even look neat, a ridiculous piece of pandering to fashion that six months into my ownership predictably seized up solid after being doused in salt off winter roads. I kept spraying WD40 over the front caliper to keep it going. The braking was aided by chain destroying engine braking, slamming the throttle shut almost as powerful as using the rear disc brake when it was working.
Top speed was only 110mph so a good pair of drum brakes would've been more than adequate and a hell of a lot less hassle. Aprilia claim 50 horses at 6000 revs, but the top end was less impressive than a 650 Bonnie which claimed the same power. Being such a tall bike turns the aerodynamics a bit naff, which takes all the punch out of high speed work. A pity that because it doesn't exploit the narrowness of the single cylinder engine, which in a pure road bike would be mounted very low in the chassis with the expected benefits in handling of a low centre of gravity.
The Pegaso does pretty well with regards to stability, the upside-down forks giving lots of control and precision. The back end will shuffle around a bit when banked over, more down to the Pirelli MT60 tyre than the eight inches of travel in the mono-shock. The rubber wasn't half bad when I bought the bike but by 7500 miles it was going bald with some unpredictable effects on the handling.
A true test of a machine's chassis is to see what happens when it's run on worn out tyres. The Aprilia passed. The steering went a bit vague, the reaction over bumpy going teetered on the violent and some fantastic slides occurred on wet roads when I used some of the engine's torque, but neither weaves nor wobbles turned up even when the laws of the land were broken. Riding on bald tyres is rather dangerous but I got another 1000 miles out of them. I was impressed enough to buy another set of Pirellis, although I was tempted by Avon's Gripsters until another Pegaso owner told me they caused his bike to wobble at 100mph. He was about 20 stone so it may not have been the Avon's fault.
By about 18000 miles the front forks were weeping, damping gone AWOL. Upside down forks with blown seals are all too common at this kind of mileage; there's no way to add gaiters to this type of fork. In the real world of used motorcycling that makes them a liability, though to be fair they still worked okay, only going a bit crazy when the road turned really rough. I never did get around to pulling them apart!
The bike wasn't afflicted with the normal crap Wop electrics that made me view the CDI and generating system with fear and loathing. The only problem I had was with the indicators flashing too slowly and finally failing. A Honda Superdream control box was force-fitted and saved the day. WD40 was sprayed into the switches every week during the rainy season.
Build quality wasn't bad. A few hairline cracks in the fairing and panels but the rest of the bike shined up nicely after emptying a can of Gunk over the whole thing and then giving it a jet-wash. Even the wheels and engine alloy resisted corroding. Being a good little boy, versed in the ways of old machinery, I changed the oil every 1000 miles and checked her over every 6000 miles. Aprilia build the engine well, as it's still running strong with over 29000 miles done.
The Pegaso won't cruise at speeds above 85mph (unless you've a body like Arnold) but it'll do just about everything else you'd care to ask of it. Not just do it competently but turn each and every ride into a wild roller-coaster of fun and frolics that few bikes can imitate. Admittedly it could be a lot better, especially if it was more road orientated - lighter, lower and without the silly plastic and discs. Oh, shame about the seat and 40mpg economy!
Dick Lewis
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The old man took the piss, as usual. Something about being a daft bugger if I thought I could go trail riding on such a big brute. He was slightly more restrained than when I bought the first Jap bike home. Bloody hell, it wasn't as if I was going to marry a Japanese babe or anything. It was only a motorcycle. That's the trouble with old-timers - closed minds. Even a cursory glance at the Pegaso would reveal that it's really a road bike with a marginal trail style to keep the marketing boys happy. Beneath its looks it's really a very sensible motorcycle.
Perhaps the greatest pity is that because of its minor trail stance most of the British motorcycle public, in its great wisdom, decide to ignore it. The centre of the bike's undoubtedly its five valve, watercooled thumper engine. Many parts are shared with the BMW F650 but the Italian version of the Rotax designed engine is a bit more advanced in the cylinder head design and has a better crankshaft. The major part of the Teutonic design input centres on build quality, so instead of usual half-hearted Wop attempts you end up with a motorcycle lacking the normal rough edges.
Mine was a 1995 model, bought at the end of 1996 for the princely sum of £2400 - the F650's keep their value much better, but at least it means there's the possibility of picking up a bargain as regards the Italian steed. 50 horses, loads of torque and a mere 350lbs of metal add up to about a ton-ten and 45-55mpg. First impressions were that it was stronger than those figures might indicate because it needed not a lot of throttle to shift at a rapid rate. However, come 80mph the goodies began to run out, though it still accelerated okay up to about the ton.
Thereafter, it was all down to external conditions. Up a hill and against a wind it wouldn't go much faster, but down an incline with the proverbial gale to my rear, it once managed an indicated 115mph. Aerodynamics pay as much a part as the ultimate lack of top end power. As a thumper it had plastic of a ridiculous width, and it was also on the high side; with some thought to the aerodynamics 120mph should be possible in neutral conditions - blame the Continentals whose insistence on this kind of styling overwhelms all other considerations.
Though there was a great slab of plastic out front it didn't provide any protection for my hands in the wet and cold; neither did the lack of any radical sculpturing to accommodate my knees help matters. I got almost as cold and wet as I did on a naked machine. Not good enough, that. In its favour, the plastic did allow 90 to 100mph cruising without much pain attacking my upper body, despite the upright stance. Comfort was otherwise more than adequate for a couple of hours' riding, thereafter the seat turned a bit hard. Not a bad compromise for someone who has to take on a mix of town and motorway riding.
Being a big thumper there was a bit of thrumming at some revs but the balancing system made sure that it never reached teeth rattling proportions. There wasn't much point trying for high revs because there was sod all power or torque to be found there, but if I did feel like going berserk on the throttle in second or third then as the engine went into the red it turned both noisy and harsh but never reached the vibratory levels of an old 350 British single. The old man was absolutely knocked out by the smoothness compared to his Ajay 350, but then that makes a pile-driver seem tame! Though it's not without its own charms.
The Aprilia definitely has a bit of character in its own right without needing to go into the old self-destruction routine. Starting required careful throttle positioning, the gearchange was an acquired art and the bike always felt a little gruff. Also, it would occasionally conk out at the traffic lights or when thumping along at low revs - it always came back to life with a desperate press of the button. Lack of flywheel, the old man reckoned, in a tone as if such a defect was akin to lacking any moral scruples. I had the last laugh when his own machine fell silent and it took him twenty-one hefty kicks to get going again. Talk about red in the face!
As winter deepened I was a bit disappointed to find that the front disc brake was doing the old gumming up trick when we sailed through salt laden roads. The previous combination of power and feel did a complete disappearing act. I was almost thrown down the road several times when the brakes grabbed on after failing to do anything for a couple of seconds. As the road surface was already pretty dire, only a boot down saved me from being turned into dead meat by the tarmac. Unbelievably, despite a mere 17,400 miles on the clock, the bleed nipples were impossible to remove and the only way to disassemble the calipers was with brute force - ie the biggest hammer I could find.
Fortunately, there were quite a few Peg's in the breakers who provided newish calipers for £40. Not a total disaster as the pads turned out to be close to being down to the metal on the old ones, and would soon have to be replaced. Whilst I was grubbing about at the front end I also noticed some seepage from the fork seals, perhaps explaining why they'd been on the soft side, coming close to pogo-stick status on several occasions. Not wanting to strip down the forks I decided to live with it, but it does indicate the kind of quality you can expect from the chassis once some mileage and wear piles up.
As to the handling, the somewhat loose front end was never close to turning dangerous. Not that surprising, given the lack of mass and power. The wide bars gave excellent control, though were often a bit of a hindrance for charging through the narrower gaps in town. The single shock at the back end was never touched, though it had the potential for a myriad of adjustments - it worked fine as it was, no point trying to upset its balance by fiddling when it wasn't necessary. There was a lack of mudguard protection for its bearings but they never went loose to any degree that I could discern.
These minor problems apart, all was going pretty well and I was looking forward to some serious mileage come the Spring of 1997. It's strange, really, just thinking about how good things sometimes are can invite disaster to fall down upon your head. It was a rare warm(ish) day at the end of February when it happened.
Coming home from work, pretty full of myself as I'd just been promoted, some homicidal maniac in one of those new big Jag's came out of nowhere at about 120mph in a 30mph zone! The first he knew of my existence was when I bounced off his wing. The Peg went into an almighty tank-slapper at about 40mph with me getting both boots down trying to hold it upright, but the sideways velocity was too big and we parted company. At least I landed well, was merely bruised and battered, could hobble upright. First thing I did was look for the Aprilia. A long way down the road it had bounced. Plastic cracked, battered silencers but nothing too seriously bent.
I breathed a sight of relief, went back to give the cager an ear-bashing but the poor guy was beside himself with the damage done to the side of his extremely expensive car. The metal was hanging off the whole length of one side! Just to be awkward, I didn't report it to my insurers so he wouldn't be able to claim; instead, bought the plastic from the breakers. Well cool. After all that hassle, though, I decided it was time to move on to pastures new in June. The Pegaso's are priced reasonably and deliver the goods.
H.K.L.