HUSQVARNA 701 SUPERMOTO
Idon’t know about you lot, but for me a supermoto is an extreme, full-blooded fun machine, with no exceptions, no remorse, and absolutely no maturity. This meant that the choice was an utter no brainer –after testing KTM’s 690 SMC R a few months back I opted to go for its (almost) twin brother, and it’s fair to say, Supermotos don’t come barer. But to be honest, that’s just what I love about the Husky 701 Supermoto; at a time when saying the wrong things can get you in a lot of trouble and even a lack of ABS seems to offend people, something still so raw, feisty and fun is exactly what’s needed. We all love a bit of spice.
Yeah, it may only be packing 74 horses in the power department, but the zinger of a single cylinder engine also delivers 68Nm of torque, all while weighing in at under 150kg. Couple that with an aggressive, MX-inspired stance, a fuel tank bedded in the sub-frame and absolutely no traction control as far as the eye can see, and you have a proper stunt monster – without even mentioning the fact that the ABS can be easily switched off. From the first time I laid eyes on the Husky, its intentions were clear; unlike the other two electronically controlled and gadget crazed motos, the 701 is a real technophobe, in the rawest sense. The controls look like they’ve been lifted straight from a motocross bike and the dash, well, if we can call it that, looks older than one of those Casio watches, with no fuel gauge, rev counter or, well, anything. There’s no shifter or blipper, no traction control, and it certainly doesn’t come equipped with a Nespresso machine. At first glance the Husky is a one-star hostel, while the two Italians compare as five-star hotels. But then again, who on earth buys a supermoto for anything other than the riding experience? I have no idea, and that’s exactly where I felt the 701 Supermoto would come into its own.
From the very moment I jumped on (and I mean jumped, it’s incredibly high) the Husky felt like it was primed for action; the bars were upright and perfectly placed for an aggressive riding stance, while the long seat still allowed for the rider to be comfy no matter what their height. Yet, from the very moment I let that silky-smooth clutch out for the first time, I felt slightly underwhelmed; for some reason I couldn’t get that niggling price tag of almost £9k out of my noggin when faced with the bare cockpit, and having just done 200 miles on a 600cc weapon, the little single just felt gutless the first time I opened it up. But you know what? After just a mile or so of calibrating myself to the Husky, I started to understand, and most importantly, enjoy it. At slow speeds, crawling through town and dodging in and out of traffic I don’t think there’s a better tool for the job; the 701 just dived wherever I aimed it with devastating precision, and that
torquey single cylinder motor delivered some serious punch at the very bottom end of proceedings. If you live in the town, for a commuting hack and Sunday weapon I genuinely don’t think there’s a better tool for the job. I mean, combined with that smooth lowdown fuelling and the incredibly soft clutch, there’s nothing else I’d rather have if I lived in the big smoke.
Mind you, even if you don’t, I found out that it was pretty damn sublime on the open road as well – well, when I say open I actually mean some twisty back roads, which cover the county of Lincolnshire. The Husky came into its own here and acted with incredible poise; from slow and tight second gear hairpins to open fourth and fifth gear sweepers, the combination of those WP pogos, supermoto spec chassis and sticky Conti rubber made me feel absolutely invincible. Although the Husky is incredibly nimble it was also really stable at serious lean, and even over some of the disgustingly bumpy, dirty tarmac we found ourselves using, I couldn’t once fault the 701. In fact, considering the dimensions, I’d go as far as to say that mid-corner, it would near enough be sticking it to a top end naked bike – which is no mean feat. Okay, when we got on to the real open road it wasn’t quite as capable as a bigger capacity brute, but even so it would still knock on the door of 130mph with a decent slipstream – although of course we only found that away from her majesty’s highways. When hauling on the Husky does tend to struggle with a lack of stability, but then again, it’s a supermoto, after all, and although it offers a little head shake, it’s nothing that ever made me feel like I was going to eat tarmac – in fact, it felt pretty damn safe.
Never, has my opinion of a machine changed so much, in so little time. I was like a kid in a sweetshop before riding this thing, yet as far as first impressions go, I almost felt like I’d been cat-fished. Yeah, it’s bare and lacklustre in terms of tech, but you know what, after just a few miles in the saddle, I really got a taste for the Husky. It performs skids and wheelies better than just about anything, and handles slow speed manoeuvring like an absolute god; yet it still feels like enough of a proper bike, to not just be a toy. It’s a lot of money for what it is, but for what it is, I think it’s one of the best.