THE 3000 MILE TEST
We know Royal En eld’s new Interceptor is a bargain. But can it survive big miles on Britain’s roads?
THE FIRST ‘BIG’ bike from the Indian factory, the first with more than one cylinder, the Royal Enfield Interceptor arrived late in 2018. Having whipped the covers off the new 650 twin (and café racer variant, the Continental GT) in 2017, the bike didn’t reach dealers in early 2018 as expected, with various reasons cited – but it was worth the wait as the Interceptor is going down rather well. With a flexible 648cc engine, easy-going ride, charming looks, low £5449 price and three-year warranty, it’s no surprise the Royal Enfield is popular – when it arrived this spring, it immediately became the UK’S best-selling 126-650cc bike and the best-selling naked overall. Dealers we’ve spoken to suggest that customers are predominantly older, experienced riders, and that many of them are coming from Enfield’s existing singles, or from similar Triumphs. Keen to see whether the rest of us should be hot-footing it to the nearest RE dealer – and indeed if those who have jumped in already have done the right thing – we’ve loaded 3000 miles onto an Interceptor, under the cheeks of the UK’S fussiest and most experienced testers. Here’s how it’s stood up.
Engine and transmission
The air-cooled, eight-valve parallel twin is A2 compatible, and makes a measured 43.6bhp at 6750rpm against the claim of 47bhp. Not a lot these days, and our datalogged figures show performance is identical to a 1988 Kawasaki GPX250 – so the 650 is no roaring headcase. Instead, the Enfield’s 648cc motor is an engaging and entertaining propulsion provider. What’s deeply impressive is the torque curve, which is particularly strong between 3000 and 6000rpm. The Interceptor pulls nicely anywhere in that range, with a rumbling V-twin-alike feel from the 270˚ firing interval, and you don’t need to flail around on the gear lever to maintain decent progress. Yet it’s still more than willing to rev on past peak power and introduce you to the rev limiter at 7500rpm. ‘The most impressive thing about the engine is the lack of vibes,’ notes ex-bike editor John Westlake. ‘And though it’s injected it hasn’t got a ride-by-wire throttle, and the fuelling is really good.’
The gearbox is positive, slick and, according to John, as good as anything from BMW, Triumph or Honda. At least it is now we’ve given it some use. The action is definitely cleaner and lighter than when the bike arrived showing minimal miles, when it was a tad clunky and obstinate. Ratios are very well spaced to make full use of the twin’s pleasing blend of thrumming easy-going thrust and a perky willingness to be thrashed. Both editor Hugo Wilson and Bike’s founder Mark Williams think that six speeds is at least one more than is strictly necessary, however. ‘Too much changing involved for urgent progress,’ reckons Williams.
Service intervals are at 8000 miles. There’s no coolant to worry about, it’s got a spin-on oil filter and there are screw and locknut tappet adjusters with four simple screws retaining the one-piece rocker cover, so it should be a quick and easy process. The only maintenance we’ve had to do is adjusting the clutch cable at around 2200 miles, though Williams thinks it’s started to sound like it’s ready for valve adjustment. The chain seems immune to stretching... at least by a 40-something horsepower retro.
Handling and ride
There’s plenty of lovely thin-tyre agility, and the Interceptor rolls about with convincing old-bike ease. ‘The really impressive part of the Enfield is its amazing neutral feel,’ says Hugo. ‘Existing RE models, the stone-age evolution that is the Bullet and the quirky Himalayan eccentric adventurer, have idiosyncrasies a-go-go. But the 650 has neutral steering, natural stance and good manners.’ The longer you spend with the Interceptor the more you realise just how well it actually handles at speed, too. After a couple of months with the bike you find yourself carrying lots of mid-corner speed and hitting huge lean angles, without really trying to. It’s not about riding fast, it’s about having a chassis that means you have to slow down less. Williams is in praise of the, ‘precise, biddable handling and reasonably taut suspension’. Forks and twin shocks divide opinion, though. Hugo and I think the ride is perfectly acceptable for a five-and-a-half-grand bike, and know that if you get carried away there’s a slightly vague front-end feel and the shocks can be overwhelmed. But this means you feel what’s happening and get ample indication if liberties are being taken. With the twin shocks bolted to the frame right under your bum there’s plenty of easily-understood feedback. It’s engaging. John is less convinced. ‘Whereas the engine and gearbox are excellent, the ride is merely OK. I find it got choppy and uncomfortable down bumpy B-roads. It steers
sweetly though, and seems to lean over forever – I’ve never run out of ground clearance.’ A couple of people have also noted that the 650 gets skittish in the wet on its standard-fit retro-pattern Pirelli tyres. We’ve tried Continentals too – see page 95.
The brakes are what they are. Fancier bikes with twin discs and four-pot calipers will obviously stop in less distance, but the RE’S single-sided set-up is more than fine. A slightly-long emergency stop distance is due to the ABS being a bit too keen to jump in.
Electronics
Sorry, what? It’s got a brake light that’s activated by both the front brake lever and the rear brake pedal… and that’s about it. The simplicity of the Enfield is part of the appeal. No modes, no multi-function dash with display options you’ll never use, no traction control or ABS adjustability. Just analogue dials for revs and speed. Oh, and a tripmeter. We love the lack of physical and mental clutter, though a clock would be nice.
The dual-channel ABS isn’t the most high-tech system, and if you brake really hard over ripples you sense the brake pressure going off-on-off-on, especially if it’s wet. But it doesn’t need to be any fancier. Grab a panicky handful and it’ll stop the front end washing out, and that’s what it’s for. And in ‘normal’ riding it never gets triggered.
‘I’m sure the 650 will get traction control and modes eventually,’ says John, ‘and it’ll be the worse for it. Who needs crap like that on something as simple as this?’
Controls and comfort
It might be ‘only’ a 650 and easy to ride, but the Enfield is quite a sizeable device (you sense the input of all the ex-triumph staff in their R&D centre near Leicester). It feels much less like hard work at a sustained speed than expected, the engine’s natural pace matching the high-speed comfort offered by those wide ’bars at 80-85mph. In fact at 80mph it’s less strenuous than hanging onto our Triumph Speed Twin, despite the chunkier Brit having a more
‘We love the lack of physical and mental clutter, though a clock would be nice’
supportive canted-forward stance. Strange but true (and we know from datalogging the RE’S speedo is as accurate as the Triumph’s). Comfort is decent even for gangly fools like me. I’ve had no aches or pains on two-hour rides, and neither has anyone else. Well, apart from Williams, who declares the seat is too narrow for comfortable long journeys and causes a numb bum – though it’s worth pointing out that the journey in question was almost the entire length of the country. Hugo also reports that an hour on the pillion seat was long enough with scrunched-up knees for his six-foot passenger (and that the extra weight of the second person became a bit of a challenge for the simple brakes). Switchgear is simple, obvious and though not the classiest there’s no suggestion it’ll fall apart after 10,000 miles. I like the rear brake lever position and action, and the light-enough clutch and unadjustable front brake levers function like clutch and brake levers. The twin dials are easy to read, though the mirrors aren’t the greatest.
Practicality
‘I love how the Interceptor easily takes a tank bag or throw-over panniers,’ claims Hugo. I agree – the flat seat and the tube frame are a bungee-twangers delight. The 650 also boasts mudguards that guard you from mud, a grabrail for anyone slipping onto the ease-to-perch rear seat, centrestand which the bike readily pops up onto, sizeable toolkit, and a decent-enough headlight (once you’ve adjusted the angle and nipped-up the mounting bolts). Economy is between 55 and 65mpg, depending on whether the rider enjoys the easy roll-on thrumming or revels in the parallel twin’s cheerful thrashability. That means between 165 and 195 miles on a fill-up, despite only having a modest 13.7-litre fuel tank. The final block of the fuel gauge flashes when the level is low, and is worryingly easy to miss. The screw-out filler cap provides endless fun when it rolls off the top of the pump. There are bikes with more equipment and extras. But the RE’S simplicity and sheer usability have won us over after 3000 miles. ‘It’s just natural to jump on and use,’ says Hugo. ‘Like a bicycle for running errands round town, or riding to work. In an age of the specialist bike, the 650 is joyfully usable everyday.’
‘It’s just natural to jump on and ride. In an age of the specialist bike, the Interceptor is joyfully usable everyday’
Quality and finish
‘One cynic asked me if it’s actually built properly,’ reports Hugo. ‘And if you know Enfield from the old days then it’s an understandable question. So, maybe the build quality isn’t as good as a Hamamatsu-built Honda, but it’s very convincing. The plating and paint have a deep quality shine. The aluminium castings are substantial, and the wiring and electrics appear to be decent too.’
It’s not perfect. To start with there’s disappointing evidence of rust around the mounting brackets on the chrome exhausts. Yes, we used the bike on salted roads, but I can’t find any warning stickers on the 650 saying ‘only ride on dry summer days’. I worry what the dummy exhaust clamps will look like after a couple of years, as they appear to be made from what metallurgists call cheese, and the paint around the inside of the fuel filler is starting to look a bit ropey now we’ve done 3000 miles. My dislike for its cheapo-looking plastic-chrome indicators grows weekly, too.
This all said, the paint and bits you see while riding are all jolly nice. And it’s five grand, not £15,000. All the major bits – the bits that matter – give you confidence. ‘On a chilly morning I decided to plumb in heated kit, and removed the saddle, a side panel and poked around to find the battery terminals,’ says John. ‘I’ll admit I expected snotty welds, cheapy fasteners and easy-to-break lugs. But it all looks remarkably good – just as wellmade and tidy as the £11k KTM 790 Adventure I’d just got off.’
‘After 3000 miles even the most cynical of Bike’s testing team rave about the twin’