GLAMOUR MODELS
Superveloce vs Thruxton RS
Beauty doesn’t come without a degree of sacrifice. A washboard stomach requires countless hours in a gym (so I’m told...), make-up takes more than just slapping on (again, not my area of expertise) and creating a painting that will leave admirers open-mouthed needs talent and dedication (neither of which I possess). And if you want to get the best out of MV Agusta’s beautiful Superveloce 800, you also need to put some effort in. Starting an MCN250 with rain already falling is never a good thing but on a bike like the
Superveloce 800 it is even worse news. Glamorous Italians never like to venture out in their best attire when the heavens have opened and, true to form, the MV’s bottom lip was most certainly protruding as we set off on the A-road section. The Triumph, on the other hand, felt more akin to a no-nonsense Yorkshire lass who just stuck on a pair of wellies and got on with the job in hand. Which in this case was battling busy traffic on the roads leading to Boston.
Usually I like to start the MCN250 on the B-road route and leave the more mundane A-road one for afterwards but today I reversed it as sun was promised in the afternoon. As a result the morning ride was always going to be a bit of a slog and within a few miles it was starting to feel a chore as the MV was not relishing the conditions.
The A1175 and A10 that lead to Boston are full of roundabouts, lorries, speed cameras and farm traffic. This slow pace highlighted all the reasons you wouldn’t want to buy the Superveloce and with its vibey engine sending my fingers numb, its rock hard seat destroying my rear end and its low clip-ons playing havoc with my wrists, the 50 miles to Boston were covered with gritted teeth. When the traffic was lighter there were hints of what was to come as at 60mph on flowing bends the MV’s character was transformed, but these moments were few and far between. Following behind on the Triumph, my fellow rider for the day, Justin Hayzelden, was having his own issues as the RS’s sporty Metzeler Racetec RR tyres have more slick than groove. They just weren’t coping that well with the combination of rain and the Thruxton’s bags of torque and he was seeing the traction control light flashing with alarming regularity. That said, at least he was doing it in
A time and place
“The Triumph is just so easy to ride, it’s a wonderful all-round bike,” says Justin on the now mainly dry B-road route. “The MV was terrible in the wet but when the roads are dry it is simply superb. As soon as the B-roads dried out, its lighter handling and sheer fun factor made me smile instantly and I haven’t stopped grinning since!”
Mirror, mirror on the bar...
As someone who isn’t a fan of bar-end mirrors I was surprised to discover that both of these bikes’ mirrors are among some of the best of any bike I’ve ridden, delivering a clear view of the road behind. The MV’s weird blue tint takes a bit of getting used to but they really work. And through Leicester they didn’t make the bikes any trickier to filter on. Who’d have thought it?
A chilled attitude vs a fighting spirit
The contrast between the Triumph’s lazy, low-revving parallel twin and the MV’s aggressive triple is highlighted on the B-road route. When you are working the Superveloce it responds with glee, delivering a thrilling ride and an awesome exhaust note. But when you want to take it easy it is vibey and way too aggressive and angry. In contrast, the Triumph’s twin is supersmooth and packed full of lazy torque that makes it a joy whatever the conditions.
Button confusion
At a faster pace the MV’s screen (with its odd plastic tiara) is perfectly angled to take some weight off your wrists. The right hand switchgear has cruise control buttons but despite lots of pushing it doesn’t seem to activate – you need to hold it for a long while to turn it on. “The Thruxton is lacking in wind protection and I wouldn’t want to spend all day at 70mph,” says Justin.
Loads of feel
Both bikes carry Brembo brake set-ups but the MV’s are absolutely delightful to use with a lovely bit of ‘squish’ before some serious power kicks in. “I don’t mind the fact the Thruxton’s brakes lack much lever movement,” says Justin, “but in the wet they overwhelm the tyre’s grip.”
Broken in Boston
I’ve managed 50 miles on the MV but Boston breaks me and I happily relinquish its keys as we head out on the A52. In traffic and at slow speed the MV’s low bars hammer your wrists, the seat is like a plank and its clutch is quite grabby away from the lights.
Typical Italian design...
The bumpy B1176 is sending the Superveloce into meltdown, so much so it is on the point of becoming unstable on certain sections of the route. Adding two turns of compression and a turn of rebound to the shock restores control and the MV’s handling is transformed from pogo stick to super agile. The Thruxton’s suspension feels like it has been designed and tested on the UK’s roads and never gets its knickers in a twist – so we leave it standard.
Numb fingers
On wet roads as we head towards Boston the MV is a nightmare. At low revs the motor vibrates so much that I’m finding the fingers on both of my hands are going numb. Justin is struggling with the Triumph’s torque overcoming the Metzeler tyres, causing the traction control to intervene.
Not exactly a promising sign...
“It doesn’t look comfortable from behind...” For a brief second I wonder if Justin has been viewing something he shouldn’t on his phone as we fill the bikes with fuel at the start of the MCN250 before I realise what he is talking about. Following me on the Triumph he has noted just how low the MV’s clip-on bars are in contrast to the Thruxton’s higher set items. With 250 miles yet to cover, it’s a worrying observation...
Limited range
The Thruxton is the first to show a fuel light at 115 miles, rapidly followed by the MV at 119 miles. Taking 11.4 litres at 130 miles the Triumph averages 51.9mpg while the Superveloce guzzles 13.3 litres, recording a less economical 44.4mpg. The idiot lights are annoyingly dim on the MV’s dash, meaning it is easy to miss the fuel warning light (and indicator’s on light), which – as it lacks a fuel gauge – could be quite irritating...