OLLIE’S ODDJOBS
Continuing his quest to confound your expectations with peculiar perambulators, Ollie Hulme brings you a modern motorcycle from an iconic marque which lacks a certain something…
Benelli have always been a bit odd. A gunmaker that decided to build motorbikes, they ran a class-winning racing team and endured a bitter family feud in which one of five Benelli brothers took exception to the company’s direction and went off to form his own motorcycle manufacturer, Motobi. Motobi was subsequently taken over by the
Benelli family and then in the 1970s the whole lot was sold to an Argentinian playboy and sports car manufacturer who promptly and shamelessly ripped off a Honda design, built a ridiculous 750cc six and eventually went bust.
Then Benelli started up again making a bonkers four-cylinder sports bike that no one bought, and some budget scooters. The brand was bought by the Chinese company Qianjiang and are still based in Pesaro, Italy where they built some inline triples and fours that nobody bought either, and they now make some 125 singles and 500 twins. It’s as if the company history was written by Mario Puzo, though like the Godfather movies the last part is the least exciting bit.
Benelli seem to be targeting three kinds of buyers with their 500cc Leoncino twin. There
are those looking for a mid-range commuter similar to Honda’s CB500F but with a little more style. Or they could be after the buyer of a cobby modern roadbike like Yamaha’s MT-07… or perhaps someone who hankers after the Ducati Scrambler Sixty-Two but doesn’t quite have deep enough pockets. The Leoncino is a pretty decent motorbike with just one flaw, of which more later.
The name for their twin translates as ‘Little Lion’ and was last used on a 1960s lightweight. The two motorcycles have nothing in common apart from the tank badge.
The engine of the Leoncino is, for once, not a revived Honda 400 single like a lot of Euro/ Sino retros. It’s a liquid-cooled twin which produces 47bhp, has fuel injection, double overhead cams, four valves per cylinder, a six-speed transmission and a front-mounted balance shaft. The plot is suspended from a substantial trellis frame. Equipment is decent enough and of the current modern style. There’s a simple digital dash and LED lights. Switchgear is perfectly acceptable, as it should be by now.
In a little flourish, the Lion of Pesaro appears like a tiny bonnet mascot on the front mudguard, and I can’t work out how they got that through the ‘don’t have anything sharp sticking out’ Euro 4 regulations. Stylistically the Leoncino ‘borrows heavily’ from Ducati’s Scrambler. The hump-backed tank is a bit slabby and is available in a subdued red, silvery-grey or black, which is bit of a change in direction for Benelli, who were always known for their flashy paint schemes. Perhaps this might look better with more striking paint – maybe something in yellow or blue like the old 650 Tornado twin, or the bright red of the 750 Sei.
The modern 500 is very low. Those of an average height can stand upright with feet flat on the floor and a gap between them and the seat. The footrests are also very low, the tank is short and the bars upright, putting the rider in a slightly hunched forwards, elbows out, flat-track riding position.
It pulls away smartly from low revs. Power starts at about 2000rpm, the gearbox is slick and very un-Italian. You just keep changing up till you run out of gears. The buzz at the top end of the rev range reminds you as effectively as the rev counter does that it wouldn’t hurt to shift up. Peak power is supposed to arrive at 8500rpm, by which time the buzzing will have driven you bonkers.
It will blart along fast A-roads, merrily whizzing past lumbering trucks. Apart from the faint exhaust note and the rustle of the engine, the loudest noise is the clickety-clack of the ABS system. On more neglected and gravelly country lanes the ride seems a little harsh and twitchy, while on a motorway the
riding position might get a bit wearing as the bars turn you into a windsock.
It’s happiest flipping through city traffic, jousting with taxi drivers’ wing mirrors, filtering through gridlocks and zipping down bus lanes (where permitted, obviously). There’s enough power to make sure you’re going to be first away from the lights and you are big enough to be seen.
But then, there’s that flaw. The problem with the Leoncino is… it’s a bit ordinary. Benellis aren’t supposed to be ordinary. They might not be legendary like Ducatis or iconic like Moto Guzzis but what they are, or at least used to be, is not boring. Benelli used to have a reputation for building motorbikes that were hopelessly unreliable, with paint and chrome that would dissolve in a light autumn mist, yet they still managed to be exciting and inflame passions.
We all used to complain that Japanese motorcycles didn’t have any character. Oh, they were certainly reliable and fast, but you know, character is important, right? The Leoncino is like that. What it needs is a bit of Italian flair to go with all this Chinese efficiency. Get involved in any discussion with the owner of a modern Guzzi or Duke about their bike and the conversation will quickly turn to some problem or other and how the owner triumphantly managed to solve it. Perhaps Qianjiang could engineer in some absurd and not terribly important defect, to give owners something to beef about and then feel good about fixing.
I wonder how it would look with some reverse cone megaphones. That should muck up the fuel injection…