BIG TEST: TRIUMPH ROCKET III GT
Big test, big bike. 2500cc of Triumph Triple given the treatment.
If you accept that motorcycling is entertaining but fundamentally silly, then the Rocket 3 is the purest motorcycle ever. Its very concept is wilfully and hilariously daft. You can believe a wild-eyed genius in a shed would bolt a 2500cc engine into a motorcycle (we’re looking at you Allen Millyard), but a mainstream manufacturer churning out thousands of the things? Barmy.
And the performance is equally potty. The way the Rocket accelerates from just off tickover is a nightmare for anyone trying to keep up – ‘oh look a big fat cruiser, oh dear where’s it gone?’ But the Rocket’s best trick – which it’s pulled off since the first one in 2004 – is to combine ballistic thrust with a chassis that goes round corners. Rocket 3s handle far better than their cartoon cruiser looks suggest and the new 2020 model is no exception. But can a 2500cc, 320kg drag bike really commute, tour and scratch? 1000 miles will clarify.
Engine and transmission
There’s a small annex in the Engines Hall of Fame for motors that make you giggle no matter how many miles you put on them. Kawasaki’s supercharged H2 is in there, making gobbling noises in a corner, as is KTM’S 1290 V-twin and Ducati’s V4. And towering over them all like a freakish mechanical WWF wrestler is Triumph’s Rocket 3.
One minute you’re reclining on a porky 2500cc cruiser with your feet out front enjoying the wind whistling up your trouser legs, then you twist the throttle and – kerwhoosh – you’re in the next postcode. After three months of commuting, popping to the shops and hauling up motorways I never, ever, got used to the gargantuan thrust available from 3000rpm to 5000rpm in second and third gear – it’s hardly worth bothering in first unless you like a flashing traction control light. After 5000rpm the cheek-wobbling drive wanes until the redline appears at 7000rpm.
‘It’s deeply hilarious,’ agrees Bike’s deputy editor Mike Armitage. ‘The way it surges in second gear has to be one of the most amusing and addictive things in motorcycling; only a supercharged Kawasaki can get near the feel. Bugger-all revs, wrench the gas, and your head rolls off with laughter.’ Though it is very fast, don’t for one moment think there’s anything uncivilised about the Rocket’s power delivery. Throttle response is flawless and on those days you just want to tootle, the Rocket will keep its record-breaking 146.5lb ft of torque to itself and nurse your hangover instead. At 80mph in sixth – think of it as a fuel-saving overdrive – the Rocket burbles along at 3000rpm with nary a vibration through bars or pegs.
In fact, after the initial few weeks excitement with the performance had ebbed (slightly),
I started to want less civility. One of the joys of something like a KTM Super
Duke 1290R is the way it tempts you into behaving like a teenager. A tiny twist of the throttle and it’s off, luring a grumpy old man into enjoying himself.
By comparison – and despite its outrageous power and torque – the Rocket is calmer and more laid back. You have to actively goad it, rather than the other way round. But there again it is a cruiser rather than a supernaked, so perhaps it’s my issue rather than the Rocket’s.
The gearbox is remarkably slick for something keeping the peace between 320kg and 165bhp. You can feel that every gear, dog and shaft is beefier than normal – there’s a heavy feeling on the lever, but the changes themselves are sweet enough and clutchless upshifts are easy. The torque-assist clutch is remarkably light too. For a wrecking ball of an engine, it’s remarkably easy to ride.
Handling and ride
This is where the magic happens. Sure, the engine is a gorilla’s fist in a velvet glove, but you kind of expect that – it is a 2500cc Triumph triple afterall. It’s bound to be good. But the Rocket’s handling shouldn’t be. Though 40kg lighter than the old model, the new one is still over 300kg fuelled up, and its wheelbase is 1677mm – that’s 30cm more than a sportsbike. In motorcycle geometry terms, it’s huge. And the final nail in the handling coffin should be the 240-section rear tyre, which is clearly designed to look massive and give dragster grip rather than go round corners.
And yet… ‘That a bike the size and weight of a canal boat and with quarry truck tyres can be so responsive, agile and accurate defies logic,’ says Mike. ‘Ride the Rocket next to another long, low-slung, heavyweight bike with a humongous engine and the differences are pronounced. I think that Stuart Wood [Triumph’s chief engineer) is a witch.’
The Rocket handles like an oversized supernaked rather than a cruiser. It feels taut, well-damped and responsive, fluidly sweeping into corners with confidence and accuracy, somehow masking the fact that the suspension is dealing with the weight of almost two CBR600RRS. It’s a glorious porky bend-swinger and unless you go utterly batshit, it’s a rewarding way to dispatch twisties. Ground clearance is fine for brisk road riding, though because of the GT’S forwardmounted pegs you have to lift your inside heel up to stop it
‘Though it is very fast, don’t think there’s anything uncivilised about the Rocket’
being dragged off the peg. The brakes, both front and rear, are never less than excellent.
There is a price for this remarkable handling though. ‘The ride can be tediously jiggly,’ says Mike. ‘I get that suspension with serious control is part of how you get a lengthy 20-ton motorcycle to handle. But the Rocket should surely deliver wafting laid-back progress and luxurious Gt-style cruising.’ I see where Mike is coming from, but I found that with the compression damping at both ends wound down to a minimum (yep, fully adjustable Showa suspension on a cruiser), it only annoyed me on the bumpiest B-roads. And some of that was because of the riding position, which puts your spine bolt upright and makes it susceptible to jarring.
Electronics
Triumph have thrown the electronic kitchen sink at the Rocket so it’s got everything you would expect of a £20,700 motorcycle. The four riding modes (Rain, Road, Sport and customisable) are rarely useful – after a few weeks experimentation I just stuck it in Sport and let the excellent lean-angle sensitive traction control sort out the mess. The modes are easy to change on the move via a button on the left bar should you wish to fiddle.
Everything else apart from the cruise control is accessed through the TFT screen and Triumph’s mini joystick. Some
riders moan that this is easy to get mixed up with the indicator switch but I never had any problems.
The TFT screen is logical once you’re used to it – you just have to remember that although a little window in the central console says ‘Trip 1’ the actual information runs down a bar on the right hand side. Similarly, the hill-hold control takes a bit of getting used to, mostly because it engages when you’re pushing the bike about if you hold the front brake before trying to push.
A bigger niggle is the keyless ignition. This tempts you to stash the fob safely in an inner pocket, which is an utter pain when you need fuel because the filler cap requires a normal key. Very annoying. Have the sense to either give me a key, or give me a fob – don’t make me work out which one I might need in an hour.
Controls and comfort
The GT’S footpegs are mounted to the front of the engine, which along with the wide cowhorn bars puts you into a classic cruiser riding position – sitting in an armchair while holding a broomhandle out front at chest height with your feet on a footstool. The footpeg mounts can be moved forward and aft into three positions which lets you tune your knee-bend, but it’s a tweak; if the feet-forward stance doesn’t suit you, it won’t make much difference.
‘One minute you’re enjoying the wind whistling up your trouser legs, then you twist the throttle and – kerwhoosh – you’re in the next postcode’
Up until 85mph, the GT is comfortable. The seat is deeply upholstered and wide, with a kicker towards the back that hugs your coccyx, and the fly screen deflects enough wind off your shoulders to make motorway schleps tolerable. But it’s by no means a tourer and calling it a GT is as much of a marketing stretch as the Triumph logo incorporating a Union Jack when all the bikes are made in Thailand.
The controls themselves are all good quality, with span adjusters on the levers, and backlit switchgear.
Practicality
Wedging a 2500cc engine in a motorcycle is a clever engineering feat but does create certain practical issues. Even after three months of practice, pushing it out of the garage always needed preparation – errant extension leads must be cleared and puddles of WD mopped up because if 320kg even thinks about going down I’m nowhere near strong enough to stop it. The weight is held low, so it’s actually comfortable to push about, but the potential for disaster is ever present, if only in my head.
And then there’s the fuel consumption. Considering its engine capacity, an average of 38mpg is decent, but during sprightly afternoons that can fall into the 20s, which means the fuel light comes on around 70 miles (the tank is deceptive – it’s actually only 18 litres). Motorway cruising at 80mph equals around 40mpg, giving you 110 miles before the fuel light, though there’s a gallon in the tank after that. The range is fine for a cruiser, but not if you want to Tour Grandly. Staying with the GT theme, it felt a bit mean that your £20,700 GT doesn’t get you the Bluetooth gizmo needed to get your phone’s Googlemaps up on the TFT screen. It’s a £205 option.
On the plus side are heated grips (standard on the GT, not as hot as BMW ones), the pillion backrest (essential if you want to arrive with a pillion), and of course the shaft drive.
Quality and finish
This was heading towards 10/10 perfection until I came back from a hideously wet ride, left the Rocket in the garage to drip dry, and next morning discovered lots of the fasteners had lost their shine. Perhaps there was salt on the road, though that seems unlikely given the deluge. Or maybe our bike had a bad batch of fasteners. Either way, it’s a blemish on what is otherwise a superbly built and finished motorcycle. Even after three months those exhaust headers make me swoon.
‘There are better bikes to ride if you’re 600 miles from your destination and it’s raining, but so what? Just book into a hotel and wait for the sun to come out’