STREETS AHEAD
New £7k Trident 660 ‘close to perfection’
It would appear Triumph have invented a time machine. Although significant poking and prodding fails to reveal a flux capacitor, there’s no question that their new Trident 660 is capable of quantum physics. As soon as you slide onto its seat, you’re transported back to 2008. This is because the Trident sounds, feels and rides like the original 675cc Street Triple. That bike’s DNA is obvious. The first Street Trip’ was a gloriously usable, affordable and none-too-serious bike with fun at the head of its design brief. And on the A- and B-roads of the MCN250 this exactly
describes the new Trident. Which should be no surprise. The 660cc triple is based on the 675cc wet-liner unit from the original Street Trip’, rather than the lightweight dry-liner motor used in current Street Triples. Stroke is reduced from 52.3 to 51.1mm, and Triumph claim 80bhp. They also claim 47lb.ft – which is exactly what the Street Triple made when we dyno’d it 13 years ago. Familiar chassis spec too. The Trident uses 41mm non-adjustable forks, a preload-only rear shock and two-pot Nissin sliding brake calipers, just like the 675. Triumph reckon the steel-framed 660 weighs 189kg ready to play; funnily enough, in 2008 the Street recorded 189.7kg on my scales. Flicking and darting north on chilled but bone-dry B-roads the Trident’s sheer rideability is welcomely recognisable. I was lucky enough to be the first person outside Triumph to ride the original Street Triple in late summer 2007, when they allowed a sneaky test of a pre-production 675 for Bike magazine, and this new machine immediately takes me back. You just jump on and enjoy. Steering is light and accurate, the chassis pointy and keen yet with steadfast secureness, and the engine fizzy, fun and flexible. Triumph say 90% of peak shunt is available across most of the rev range. I’ve no reason to doubt them, and with short gearing the 660 snaps sharply through its six-speed ’box under acceleration and hauls out of villages in a tall gear. Though it has ‘only’ 80bhp it’s plenty fast enough. The 80 horses arrive at 10,250rpm, which is about what the revvier and more powerful Street Triple S makes at the same revs. But the Trident has livelier gearing so feels fruitier. Deactivate the TC, wrench the throttle in first gear and the handlebar smacks
‘It’s playful, exciting and spirited’
your forehead, and it’s as sprightly pulling away in second as a longlegged 765cc Street Triple is in first. To hit the £7195 threshold, the Trident is built to a price. The red Showa stickers might make the single-function forks look fancy, but they’re from a crate labelled ‘value’ rather than ‘posh’. It’s where they found the rear shock as well. Deep into the nadgery back lanes and ridge-riding twists of north Leicestershire and fully acclimatised, the gusto the Trident encourages sees the forks bottom out braking hard over bumps. The rear end lacks finesse when tramping on, reaching the limitations of its damping, and it needs a decent squeeze to get reassurance from the brakes.
All of which is fine with me. This is primarily because the Trident is intended as a keenly-priced, entrylevel bike for less experienced riders (or those after decent performance at a low price), so doesn’t need overthe-top running gear.
But it’s also because the 660 is perfectly fine in normal riding conditions. I’d rather have a chassis that’s right for 90% of my riding but shows limitations when pushed, than one that shines bright in a narrow window of use and is an overly firm pain the rest of the time (who said Street Triple RS?).
The 660 impresses rattling around the 125-mile B-road loop. It’s proper fun. Although the low fuel warning pings on 10 or so miles before the end the Triumph manages 51 miles to the gallon. No comfort issues either: it looks trim and tight, but my 6ft 2in frame isn’t complaining. Attacking turns the heels of my size 12 clumpers occasionally brush the pillion peg when really up on my toes, but it’s not an issue.
This afternoon’s wider, straighter A-roads may prove a less natural environment for the naked, mind. And that does turn out to be the case. It’s not that the Trident leaves you wishing for more oomph. Quite the opposite: with eager gearing and easy-access torque the lightweight triple feels a little frustrated, unable to zip and flick due to an everincreasing number of 50mph limits. On less-restrictive sections the chassis and motor are equally smooth though, the Trident purring contentedly. There’s full confidence banking at speed, and it does surprisingly brisk top-gear roll-on overtakes. Obviously there’s chuffall weather protection, but the riding position is plugged-in enough to not be hard work. Mirrors are so-so and the left-hand switchgear has a slightly plasticky feel, though simple clocks and easy-to-suss controls are better than the messy displays and joysticks on pricier Triumphs. Or they are for me. After a full day, I’m smitten. Being nit-picky, you could whinge about not being able to twiddle the suspension, the absent clutch lever span adjuster and – shock, horror – the lack of a cinema-scale dash. And this paint is as exciting as cold cabbage soup (yet costs an extra £100…). But the reason you pick these nits is that the bike’s feel, behaviour and performance are so good; you assess it forgetting that it only costs a sniff over seven thousand (£300 less than a 2008 Street Triple would cost in today’s money). Put £1750 down on a PCP and the 660 is just £70 a month. Yes, it’s the ‘starter’ Triumph. But you’d be hard-pushed to find a better bike for this cash.
‘It’s proper fun around our B-road loop’