MV AGUSTA F3 RR
On the road…
You’ve got to hand it to MV. At a time when others are shutting up shop and turning their backs on the Supersport sector, the Italian brand goes and drops a new iteration of its popular F3. Quirkier, smarter, and pricier than ever, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I’m the kind of bloke who’s buoyed by its existence. Never forget that it didn’t have to go through the rigmarole of scratching that Euro5 itch, like so many other marques have shied away from. Cynically speaking, it’s arguably down to the fact it was a process necessary for the model’s sibling 800s that the effort went into the common component triple motor, which gained a whole host of performanceenhancing tweaks to counter the offset caused by a strangling new exhaust system. Think titanium valves, fancy internal coatings (to reduce friction), different valve guides, bearings and a new dual flow radiator (to help the motor run cooler and cleaner) and you’ll have a good grasp of what’s gone into it… all to maintain the same claimed 145bhp that MV boasted on the inaugural model back in 2013.
While we are on the topic of change, the bike’s got a new 5.5in TFT dash, cornering ABS, a new IMU and a lighter rear wheel. Of course, there’s no overlooking the new ‘double skin’ wings either, which are the big enough to rival any Fokker out there. The blurb states that at about 150mph you gain an extra 8kg of load on the front of the bike to fight off wheelies and cops if you are tackling a high-speed pursuit down any back road of your choice. As for the Moto 2inspired mudguard, which is made of carbon just like the whole wings and lower panel on this bike, that took me a little bit more time to warm to… especially after I realised it means you can’t use an under fork paddock stand to get the front wheel hoisted – genius! But on a bike costing just shy of £20,000, surely a fancy bottom yoke-style stand would be the least of your worries? I never imagined a time when we’d see sub-litre sportsbikes costing quite so much – without so much as a kitchen sink in sight – but that’s where the F3 RR sits, and your only other option is to pitch for the cheaper Rosso version that pretty much mimics the RR minus the wings… for a bargain price of £14,840.
Before I get too cynical, I should probably move on and tell you a bit more about the virtues of this bike, which weighs in as stock at 173kg (dry), or 8kg lesser in this bike’s case thanks to the fitment of a race kit that includes a lightweight pillion seat cover and a 7.5kg saving Akrapovic silencer. As for power-to-weight ratios, the F3’s got some tasty numbers to shout about. And for ‘22,
it’s also got a grippier seat and new pegs. But what does it all mean to the average rider who wants to cut shapes on this bike out on the public roads? I was keen to find out and soon found myself bounding around the neighbourhood, trying to get my head around it. The first thing you should know is that it’s firmer than a ripen-at-home avocado, so be warned if you’ve got haemorrhoids or a bad back. The feel of the bike, through the traditionally adjusted Marzocchi forks and Sachs rear shock, can come across a little harsh on bumpy B-roads, but it’s also par for the course on a bike that pertains to be nothing short of a road-legal racer – what
else would you expect? Well, for £20k, I’d expect electronic suspension, to be honest, which would give you the chance to dial down the harshness of the pogos as and when needed, but there’s no such luxuries in place. It does, however, come kitted with a launch control system in case you are desperate to beat the 19-year-old in his Nova away from the traffic lights, so it’s not all bad news. Handling-wise, I was quite comfy with the way the MV cut it on the street. It wasn’t razor-sharp for handling, but you don’t always look for that when battling the high street, or back lanes, for that matter. It felt stable and planted, which I quite liked.
I also quite liked that the motor seemed to suit the slow-paced style of my riding on the street, being easy to pull away from junctions with good feel through the clutch. There was notably more torque on tap than you’d expect from a four but without the awkwardness you can find on a twin. The ride-by-wire throttle is hard to fault and the same goes for the fuelling, which I remember being a nightmare on the original F3; the delivery was consistent and smooth, just how
FOR A RELATIVELY SMALL AND COMPACT MACHINE, IT GAVE THE IMPRESSION I WAS ON SOMETHING MUCH BIGGER.
it should, with a slick enough gearbox to make moving forward fast child’s play. The brakes, on the other hand, actually fried my brain, which I’ll harp on about in more detail in my track assessment, but they made me pull through pressure before reaching a biting point. Worst of all was that the consistency of that biting point seemed to change with each pull – for that reason alone, they were a nightmare to operate.
On a more positive note, the spacious nature of the bike, and the fact you sit more inside the machine than on it, made me feel pretty comfortable and well shielded from the elements. For a relatively small and compact machine, it somehow gave me the impression I was on something much bigger. The reach to the bars wasn’t harsh either, and the knee angle enforced by the pegs was bearable. The seat, on the other hand, was pretty firm, which no doubt exaggerated the harshness of the bumps felt through the suspension and stiff steel frame. You can’t have it all, I guess.
Was there enough about this bike to win me over? The problem is that it’s a model which now sits in relative isolation, so it’s Hobson’s choice if you’re wanting something along these lines. Truthfully speaking, I enjoyed this bike a lot, but not as much as I did Triumph’s Daytona Moto2, which not only cost less but also seemed to tick more boxes for me on the road. The question was, could this bike offer a wholly mesmerising perspective on track?
On the track… (1m 38.5 lap time)
I had high hopes for the F3 around Cadwell Park. Not only did it look the part with its aerodynamic wings and mudguard, but the tech seemed pretty track focused too. I’m not one for reading instructions, but after thumbling through all the buttons on the switchgear, I soon figured how to channel through the traction control levels, riding modes and ABS settings. There was even the option to go into the state of fuelling and other in-depth characteristics I knew I shouldn’t be meddling with. As much as I like that kind of stuff, I was just after a bike that went fast, with systems that complimented a lap time and didn’t hold the job up. In fairness, that’s pretty much what I got from the MV. What I didn’t get was a motorcycle that was easy to adapt to and push hard on a course. Every lap was a
learning curve, fundamentally trying to work out how I could get the most out of the package. My initial thoughts on the F3’s handling were not great. On the track, through quick changes of direction such as the Chicane and Hall Bends, it felt too steady to turn, and having dropped off the kerb exiting the hairpin (Taz Mackenzie-style), I felt frustrated to say the least. Fortunately, the minimal traction control I’d dialled in stopped me from throwing the bike at the scenery, so there was some good that came out of my detour – the tech worked well.
What really didn’t work well were the brakes. I like rolling the dice as much as the next person, but bad brakes and Cadwell Park is a recipe for disaster. Luckily, having ridden the MV plentifully on the road before heading to the track, I’d had chance to acclimate to the weird functioning of the MV-branded radial brake lever that seemed to need priming in pressure before the main course of stopping power kicked in. It was sketchy to say the least and, in truth, there wasn’t a single lap clocked that I gave the big Brembo monoblocs the kind of a abuse I knew they could stomach. It was beyond frustrating and something perhaps accountable by a bit of air in the system. Who knows?
Back to the handling, for such a small bike the MV took a bit of hustling. It would turn nicely, but to get it properly on its ear and fight it through a bend took energy and commitment, especially when gassing through and out of a corner. It was as though the rear shock was sitting too low in the stroke, forcing the bike wider and wider when I wound open the throttle, meaning I had to adjust the way I was riding it to suit more of a big bike style – standing it up before cracking on the throttle harder. I don’t for one second imagine that’s how you get the best out of this bike, because it is essentially an overgrown 600. It’s small, compact, and relatively lightweight, with a motor that’s not the slightest bit intimidating. In reality, it was more likely that the reason for its lethargy was down to human error – someone had probably ‘tweaked’ the adjustable suspension settings and caused all kinds of chaos in the process. With limited track time and lacking any tools, that’s something I couldn’t remedy – but I wish I could have because I think the MV would have shown a very different hand in the cornering department. For its sins, it was actually a very stable bike, and I liked how the integrated riding position made me feel very comfortable in the bike, wrapped around by the sizeable fairings as I tucked in down the straights. It wasn’t of the jacked-up rear variety, where you feel like your wrists are going to snap off for the pressure they are forced under, but ironically, that kind of stance was perhaps exactly what this bike could have done with to make it less lazy. It might have helped on the ground clearance front, too. As much as I was hanging off the thing, the sidestand ground out every lap without fail.
THIS BIKE HAS MORE POTENTIAL THAN I WAS ABLE TO EXTRACT ON THE DAY.
If you are wondering what I made of the motor, I’d say that I learned to like it. Triples are guilty of never feeling particularly pacy, and this bike’s engine was no exception to that rule. It got up to speed quickly enough, but never seemed to do so with any zest or excitement. As you’d expect on a racy bike, the peak power came in right at the top (13,000rpm) and the torque topped out not long before it. It meant you had to keep it on the boil, which sounded pretty awesome when doing so through the Akrapovic silencer. Truthfully, the engine didn’t really excite me. There was no hard hit of torque down low or a notable rush at the top end, but it’s for that reason the motor felt so unintimidating and useable. By my own standards, I felt I could take the piss with my throttle hand, cracking the noise tube open as hard as I liked without risking a stint in hospital.
The fuelling was good, too, and I liked the way the power translated to the rear wheel with a very direct connection. The blipper and shifter weren’t the slickest, lagging a little for my liking, but they got the job done and I have nothing but compliments for the slipper clutch, which stomached all kinds of abuse as I knocked down the box.
What’s for sure is that this bike has more potential than I was able to extract on the day, mostly owing to the brakes and the handling. But I don’t doubt either can be remedied and I’d jump at the chance to throw this thing around again with those factors on side.