Kawasaki Vulcan S Café
After riding every 1000cc sportsbike for the past 16 years he’s fallen for a 600cc cruiser
KAWASAKI LIST THE Vulcan S within the ‘Cruiser’ section of their range. Someone should inform trade descriptions. It might look like a laid-back device for sauntering about, admiring yourself in shop windows and feeling smug, however this is a perky, light, exploitable roadster… just one that happens to be low and with long raked-out forks. Riding the Vulcan is as taxing as remembering to blink. Steering is light and accurate, despite the stretched-out 31 degrees of rake and 120mm of trail, and it rolls cleanly into, through and out of corners with its easy-turning 160/60 rear tyre. Though 228kg sounds quite chubby for a 649cc parallel twin, it’s flyweight for something with cruiser-style geometry and it’s all carried somewhere below the low-slung 705mm seat. The Kawasaki’s amazingly manageable. Pushing it around while positioning for pictures it seems about half the weight of the BMW and Honda, and needs half the effort. Most large-capacity bikes with this silhouette have the ride quality of a horse and cart on a corrugated steel roof, however Kawasaki have given the Vulcan suspension damping and ride quality that outshines larger feet-forward creations and that defies its £6789 on-the-road-price. Then there’s that engine. It revs less than in the ER-6 it’s borrowed from, and 11bhp fell out onto the factory floor during the transplant. But torque is intact and the power arrives 1000rpm earlier than in an ER, so the Vulcan is even more willing to get going and needs less effort to get a wriggle on. It’s flexible, happy to hobble along at 2000 revs in a high gear, burp between turns on the midrange, or thrash about playing silly buggers. Yeah, so the riding position limits you to about 75mph. Any faster and it’s a strain staying upright. Having the footpegs out front takes getting used to as well. There are no issues with ’peg scraping during normal riding though, and though you might not expect it given the stance there’s the sort of nimble day-to-day usability you expect of, say, a Ducati Scrambler or Suzuki SV650. Finding a sprightly, inspiring, usable dynamic in a package where you expect to find dulled response and ponderous behaviour suits me just fine. My default setting is for bikes that are engaging and direct. I like a light and responsive throttle (I loved the crisp action of KTM’S old 990, when most people found it too switch-like). I reckon steering should feel like you’re holding the ends of the front wheel spindle, and I’ve a preference for smaller capacity bikes – there’s less weight and bulk to dampen the and sensations, and I like being able to work an engine hard without worrying (too much) about needing to employ a solicitor specialising in traffic offenses. My light, zinging Yamaha TDR250 is the best bike in the world. This doesn’t mean a narrow outlook. I just want bikes to grab me. I love the ’70s thrum and flowing ride of Moto Guzzi’s V7. The thumping torque, weighty controls and clunky ride of a Harleydavidson Forty-eight hold appeal, and the uncompromising Aprilia RSV4 is everything an exotic superbike should be. And so the greatest surprise with the Vulcan isn’t that it performs in a way the styling doesn’t imply, but that the whole concept feels as right as it does. A budget, lightweight cruiser based round a detuned commuter engine, with more matt plastic than machined metal (and a stupid name)? Sounds as tempting as soggy cabbage in cold gravy. Yet the dynamic is utterly convincing, not just on that crucial first test ride, but every time you go back. People are beginning to realise too – the Vulcan S might sit at a lowly tenth in Kawasaki’s best-sellers list, but getting this demonstrator from Wheels Kawasaki (wheelsmotorcycles.co. uk) took some juggling so it didn’t clash with all the demo rides. Decent adaptability can only help the 650’s popularity. You get adjustable clutch and brake levers, plus three mounting options for the footpegs. The riding position fits everyone, a compact digital dash houses ample data, and the ABS works well. It skips about breezily doing 60mpg, meaning over 180 miles from the 14-litre tank. And there are variants to suit most persuasions too: Vulcan S, Vulcan S Sport (flyscreen and full Arrow exhaust), this Vulcan S Café (screen plus two-tone paint), and Light Tourer variants (leather panniers, tall screen, pillion backrest) of the base S and the Café. All on a bike with a semi-traditional image that nuzzles its way into the current trend without resorting to lashings of chrome, period baubles or to trying too hard to be ‘authentic’. Unexpected? The Vulcan defies logic.
‘Riding the Vulcan is as taxing as remembering to blink’