Indian FTR1200S
Top looks, cool brand, inspired by a dominating racer – the V-twin has a lot to live up to...
INDIAN’S FIRST NON-CRUISER is very good... yet mildly frustrating. The flat track-style roadster mixes surprising performance, genuine ability and definite charm with a smattering of frustrating creases you suspect could have been ironed out with another six months of development. We’re fans of Indian, especially the Scout line-up. They’re an intelligent mix of old-school character and visual appeal with enough modern touches to make them work as proper motorcycles. Engines, ride and build quality set the cruiser standard. With their FTR750 race bike making everyone look foolish in AMA Flack Track it would be equally foolish not trade on the success, so they’ve created the FTR1200. Rather than a tuned-up Scout, it’s almost entirely new.
The 1203cc twin ain’t no long-legged lugger. While it has the rumble, low-down feel and lumpy thump of a trad’ long-stroke American big twin, it’s also very lively. With a far wider bore, greatly increased compression ratio and many other differences over the 1133cc Scout, the V-twin is free-revving, snappy and super-crisp off the throttle. It lunges out of villages in third or fourth gear from below 2000rpm, and A-road overtakes at 60mph in top require just a twitch of throttle. There are three riding modes – Rain, Standard, Sport – and in the liveliest option the FTR wheelies in first gear, threatening to loop into the nearest hedge. Traction control is lean-sensitive, but not lift-sensitive in this mode…
I like this snappy response, though several colleagues chunter that the fuelling isn’t good. Steve keeps saying ‘jerk’ (I assume he’s talking about the throttle, not me). It’s a preference thing – I used to like old KTM 950s and 990s, and didn’t mind early Yamaha MT-09S, where many found them too instant.
Popping the FTR in Standard mode solves the problem and Steve rides away happy. But now I have an issue, as all it seems to have done is introduce a delay in response. And once you’re past this delay, the drive comes in a bit of a rush.
This bike is noticeably smoother if you warm it fully before riding. It’s also thirsty, struggling to get over 40mpg when the MT-09 is nudging 60mpg. With a poxy 13-litre underseat tank the low fuel light is on before 90 miles. Refuelling is tiresome too. The
swan-neck filler means you have to let air escape and allow fuel to gurgle down, otherwise you think it’s full when it’s not.
It’s 231kg and longer than most tourers, yet the Indian is pleasingly tossable. You feel the gyroscopic effect of the 19in and 18in wheels, sense its length, weight and low centre of gravity. Yet because of the slender 150-width rear tyre, which is even narrower than the Husky’s rear, and leverage from the commanding riding position and wide ’bar, the 1200 rolls into corners swiftly and cleanly (note: this bike’s Pirelli Scorpion Trail II increase agility over the stock Dunlops). There’s a little reluctance to change direction really sharply – in a 60mph right-left chicane on my back-lane commute the FTR needs lots of input and has to be muscled to prevent it running wide. You just acclimatise, though. And, overall, the stability/agility trade-off is a good one.
Pity the suspension can be fidgety and harsh, yet is also underdamped – grab at the front brake and the forks leap back as if released from a super-taut bungee. It’s not as plush as the Suzuki and lacks the Yamaha’s bump absorbency. There’s full adjustment at both ends, though I think the issue is springs, not damping. The non-s version has a softer set-up – I’ve not ridden one, but those who have say it’s a bit more supple and balanced. There’s plenty of control from the Ducati Monster-ish stance, with a greater sense of being plugged-up than on the taller, thinner MT-09. With support from the pillion perch bum-stop you can easily endure a tank’s worth of 85mph cruising. Speaking of cruising, some tassel-wearing traits remain. There’s chunkiness to the unadjustable clutch lever, the gear lever has a long throw, and switchgear has that curious ’90s look and feel that American manufacturers love. The style and colours of the touch-screen display are ’90s too, and though it’s got plenty of easily-navigated functions (but seemingly lacks a trip) it’s a bit My First Games Console. Curiously, it sometimes stays blank for up to a minute when you turn the ignition on but the bike will start and ride. That sums up the FTR: plenty of good things, with details you have to tolerate or learn to ignore. Yet somehow we’re still taken with it. ‘It feels and behaves the way I want a bike like this to,’ says Steve. ‘I really like it.’ Yeah, me too.
‘Genuine ability… with a smattering of frustrating creases’