‘From the rider’s eye, the 961 is a classy place to be’
‘If you recall the first Monster you’ll get the appeal’
more substantial profile, is slim and lithe – very old school – and fits my six foot frame well (although later, shorter Bruce didn’t like it). More impressively, from the rider’s eye, the 961 is a classy place to be. Though thin, the upholstered and embroidered seat is quality, the scalloped tank is seductive while the view over the logo’d black bars, special badging, shiny clocks, span-adjustable levers and chrome mirrors is sumptuous. Only the cheap-looking key, which could be from a Chinese scooter, lets it down. Best of all, after attuning to the pushrod twin’s slightly rattly, asthmatic delivery, its midrange between four and six thou’, its tall and steady poise (which requires a little bit of tillering through roundabouts) and its classy Brembos and Öhlins all add up to a raw yet somehow cultured ride. The 961 is by no means an ultra-refined, glitch-free motorcycle. But if you remember, say, an early Ducati 900SS or, perhaps more accurately still, the first Monster, you’ll understand the 961’s appeal. We swap after the Super Sausage café on the A5 and, as Bruce himself later says, it’s like “chalk and cheese”. Where the Norton, though recently improved, remains raw, lumbering, idiosyncratic and the very essence of a hand-built bike, the BMW is immaculate: the very essence of mass-production.
To be fair, although I find the nineT slightly bland after the Norton the BMW does have a soft, rumbly character, but it’s nowhere near as rich as the Norton. “If you close your eyes on it,” I later argue to Bruce, “you might as well be on an R1200R. Whereas if you close
your eyes on the 961 it takes you back to the ’90s or maybe even the ’70s.” I also know the BM will get me home or to Spain. I’m yet to be as confident on the 961.
But that’s changing. On the backroads around Silverstone Bruce hustles the Norton and I have to ride the BMW pretty hard to keep up. That’s kudos to the Brit right there. On the M40 at a sustained 85mph, the Norton’s not bothered either and despite a more clattery soundtrack is just as comfortable. In the tourist gridlock of Stratford, the cruder, less refined Norton is really not any more trouble. The improved transmission is fine, neutrals are found easily, the clutch isn’t too heavy and the more restricted lock is irrelevant. Until, finally, with me back on the Norton, as we revel in the Cotswolds’ mix of winding B-roads with blasting dual carriageways and cut through the congestion of Buckingham, Milton Keynes and Bedford, I’m aware that I’ve become confident in the Norton, too. That’s a big deal – so much so that I choose to remain aboard it for our madcap thrash back to Peterborough. And a great time I have, too.
Don’t get me wrong: the 961 remains a unique proposition and is a long way from perfect. First impressions in particular could and maybe should be better. And even if you forget those, 80bhp, a £15K price tag and lots of quirks, is a spec ridiculed by most modern rivals. But that’s missing the point.