Aprilia RS660
‘A new era begins’, say Aprilia, but does their road focused RS660 really reignite the sportsbike spark? The most thorough – and first –UK test reveals all…
Most of us owned or knew someone who had a Honda CBR600F in the 1990s. Fast yet friendly, accurate but accommodating, the CBR was the everyman (and everywoman) sportsbike; a desirable and ofthe-moment machine as happy scything to the Spanish Grand Prix with stuffed throwovers as it was teaching kneedown on the local roundabout or merrily trundling to work.
Aprilia’s all-new RS660 promises to be the CBR for our modern world. Sexy, high-tech, fast, sweet handling, and yet designed for road usability and normal folk. At £10,150 the twin sits perfectly between traditional demanding supersport bikes such as the Yamaha R6 and mildly underwhelming ‘soft’ sports like the Kawasaki
Ninja 650 and CBR650R, both on price and claimed figures. With performance and practicality, the RS660 could be the bike to put sports firmly back on the menu. Bike gets its hands on the UK’S very first test bike, books unseasonably warm and dry weather, stares the RS660 directly in its LED eyes and asks the big questions…
‘I’ll take sharp response, power wheelies but enough traction to stop me highsiding into a muddy field, thanks’
It’s about feedback
Feedback is hard to explain and impossible to put a value on. It’s about how the bike talks to you, how it feels, and how much assurance the chassis dishes out. And the RS660 supplies masses.
Threading briskly down damp, chilly B-roads it’s easy to put faith in the Aprilia. I rate the front end – it steers beautifully, and the Kayaba forks feel great dealing with bumps and coping with ham-fisted use of the pleasingly strong brakes. Weighing just 181.6kg with a full tank (1.4 kilos less than Aprilia claim, with a 53.5% front/46.5% rear distribution) the RS flows into corners with effortless pace. The Pirellis grip, the bike reacts to each adjustment and supplies a stream of information, and you feel happy and secure out and about.
Confidence swells more with sun and dry roads. The RS is agile, accurate, responsive, scything through turns to a delicate input. Forks and shock are set-up sportily, no doubt. However, they’re supple enough to deal with imperfections without the chassis ricocheting off at a tangent, making the Aprilia feel… I don’t want to say planted because it’s not a daffodil, but, well, it feels planted. Or certainly more so than a typical sportsbike. The riding position really helps – plugged-in without screwing you into a knot, the stance gives great control, and the ergonomics are cock-on. It’s compact and the seat doesn’t give scope for back-and-forth wriggling, but at 6ft 2in I don’t feel like I don’t fit.
It’s feedback that’s again the star, mind. The rear shock is mounted directly to the swingarm and attaches to the bike beneath you, the ’bars mount into the top yoke, and so there’s plenty of sensation. Feel-some front brake, too. My size 11 boot rubs on the right-side of the swingarm, but rather than being annoying this boosts confidence further. The connection gives assurance, like easing a kneeslider onto the road.
The 659cc parallel-twin engine is equally responsive. Clutch and throttle are light, and at low revs and load it purrs with the sound and docile feel of a Suzuki SV650 – only with a sharper pick-up. But things get frothy the busy side of 7000rpm. The 270˚ firing interval means a delicious Ducati-esque flat honk from the airbox with a real handful, the underbelly exhaust emitting an edgy bark as the RS tears past 11,000rpm and slingshots forward. It’s exciting, but not excessive; power is accessible despite the top-end rush, and you don’t finish a great ride in a paranoid panic about having appeared deranged to other traffic. Perfect for British roads.
More gizmos for your money
There aren’t other ten-grand bikes with the trinkets and baubles of the Aprilia. There’s traction and wheelie control, cornering ABS, engine braking control and cruise, plus the option of a pitlane speed limiter. These safety nets and management devices are pre-set for Dynamic and Commute riding modes, plus there’s a set-up-yourself Individual mode. Controlling and adjusting is via Ktm-style switchgear, and the interface on the colour display is easy to get to grips with. The RS also has three choices of engine map, and two track modes (Challenge and Time Attack) that bring circuit-biased settings and a lap timer.
Even in Dynamic the anti-wheelie and traction can be a tad over-sensitive. The 660 tries to wheelie under hard acceleration in first and sometimes power is cut too abruptly, then stays absent for too long. Configuring the traction, wheelie settings and maps in Individual mode allows the RS to do what you want, though. I’ll take sharp response, power wheelies but enough traction to stop me highsiding into a muddy field, thanks.
The quickshifter is superslick, up and down the sixspeed ’box, and at all revs and load. And every bike should have cruise control. It’s a gadget that you don’t realise is so useful until negotiating an endless A-road with average speed cameras.
660cc can’t be enough
Aprilia claim 49.4 lb.ft at 8500rpm with peak power of 100 metric horses at 10,500rpm, or 98.6 of our imperial nags. Our bullshit-free dynamometer finds 47.8 pound-feet, with 90.8bhp at the rear wheel at 10,750rpm – though there’s a useful 90bhp crest from 10,000 to 11,000rpm.
This is impressive. Yamaha’s 689cc MT-07 is the defining middleweight twin and on average makes 69bhp, while Suzuki’s long-running SV650 can push
71bhp. Making 20bhp more is significant: it’s exactly
the same power as a Ducati 748, but from 11% smaller capacity, and puts the RS right up with a Supertwin race bike. Despite the mad numbers you hear about the leading Kawasaki ER-6 racers, a fit one makes a sniff under 90bhp but will be a hand grenade; racers use three engines for the TT. The silenced road-legal RS with unlimited-mile warranty matches them – and with the TT and several clubs looking to raise the Supertwins capacity limit from 650 to 700cc, there’ll be a queue of hungry racers at Aprilia’s door. How have Aprilia done it? Revs. Their 659cc twin doesn’t make more torque than an MT-07, but is configured (cams, inlets, outlets, heady 13.5:1 compression ratio) to deliver it higher up the revs. As in 2000rpm higher. Power is essentially torque multiplied by revs so this means more horses, but stacked at the top end. Hence the surge from 7000rpm and being what we used to call ‘cammy’.
It also means the Aprilia endures greater loads for example, at the rev limiter its mean piston speed is smack on the acceptable 24m/s limit for a road engine, just like a screaming supersport 600.
What’ll it do mister?
At its launch, Aprilia said the RS660 is midway between ‘soft’ sports and a ‘proper’ supersport 600. Our datalogger shows they’re spot on – the time it takes the RS to do 0-60mph is exactly halfway between a Honda CBR650R and a Yamaha YZF-R6. The RS660 feels far livelier than Honda’s CBR650R, so the rest of our measured performance figures are closer than expected. There are factors at play, though. First, the Aprilia’s ramp of torque at 7000rpm makes it harder to launch from a standing start: it either trundles or tries to wheelie, where the far more linear Honda drives off easily. (The 660 also hits the rev limiter at 60mph in first; with a smidge taller gearing it’d reach 60 without a gearshift and the 0-60 time might fall a tenth or two). Second, a strong sidewind at the test strip is hindering top speed. The RS can’t rev out in sixth – we expect 150mph in still conditions.
Top gear roll-on tests also highlight how the RS comes on song at higher revs. You’d expect the twin to readily out-grunt Yamaha’s peaky R6, but at 40mph in sixth it needs time to build – it’s only half a second quicker to 80mph than the supersport screamer.
However, there’s no disputing the Aprilia is fast enough. Just four-tenths of a second slower than an RSV
Mille superbike over a quarter? Only 0.27s slower to 60mph than a highly-strung R6? You’ll do.
Fear not older bones
It’s no tourer. But for the RS660 to hit the spot its engaging, sporty, exciting ride mustn’t sacrifice too much day-to-day usability or strain our creaking bodies. Forever getting smaller, harder and more torturous to ride is what put us off 600cc sportsbikes in the first place (and big ones too). Thankfully the RS is ergonomically excellent: not too sat up, not too prone, with ’bars that are an easy reach. Suspension doesn’t blur your vision (are you listening, Triumph?) and a race-style screen deflects most of the blast while still providing a supportive breeze. Light controls too, though I have issue with the headlight switch. It’s on the back of the switchgear, controlled by forefinger, and protrudes too much. I keep flicking to full beam without realising when I reach for the clutch lever.
The 820mm seat height is average, but dropping a limb is simple because the bike’s so slender. The swingarm hangs directly from the engine and the trim frame spars attach above the clutch, and with no pivot plates the RS is slim at the waist. It’s also easy to manoeuvre, thanks to ample steering lock and a wet weight of just 181.6kg; for reference, that’s 8.4kg lighter than a Street Triple RS.
Pillions need to be slight and/or confident. The rear footpegs are high and there’s no grab strap. Carrying non-living items is easier, though. There’s a range of touring accessories to follow, but the RS already has a rack under the pillion seat: remove the pad to reveal a flat, solid surface with plenty of robust bungee lugs. Genius. The lugs can be reached with the seat in place as well.
We’ve averaged 45mpg against a dash claim of 47mpg. This is more accurate than most bikes and means 148 miles from the 15-litre tank (the low fuel warning comes on around 105 miles). Sit on a motorway (70mph is 5000rpm or so in top) and economy passes 60mpg, giving potential to see off 200 clicks. There are a few tingles through the ’pegs at sustained speed but they’re far from intrusive.
Yes, the RS660 is practical.
‘Ergonomics are nigh-on perfect, the engine blends civility with an exciting rush’
The Bike verdict
Crossbreed a
Ducati 748, midnineties Honda
CBR600F and
Aprilia’s own
RSV4. That’s the
RS660. Exciting, but not excessive.
Practical, usable and affordable without being humdrum, and high-tech without being all unnecessary and tacky.
There’s much to praise. Ergonomics are nigh-on perfect, the engine blends civility with an exciting rush, handling is light and accurate yet stable and reassuring, and it’s got a full array of effective rider aids. It appears well made and finished. And it has a neat rack. You can get cool Rs250-style Reggiani replica colours, too. Criticisms are few. The headlight switch is easy to flick by mistake, mirrors blur when you rev it, and you’ll need to pop to Halfords for a rattle-can of red so both wheels match. The RS also lacks a splash of Aprilia ‘ooh’ factor; maybe it’s memories of polished frames on RSVS, but it’s a bit less exotic than we hoped. But, of course, it’s also £10,150 and not £15k. The RS660’S balance of performance, desirability and usability genuinely could give sportsbikes a fighting chance and lure a generation back to fairings and crisp steering. Will it be the CBR600F of modern times? It deserves to be.
‘The RS660 could give sportsbikes a fighting chance and lure a generation back to fairings and crisp steering’