Triumph Street Triple RS ‘It gets better the faster you ride… Punch the Triumph and it punches back’
Iconic model, the right brand name slapped across the tank, and as many desirable thingies and whatsits as anyone could want... but it’s just not the bike it should be
Early on a mild, clear, morning at Bike’s secret underground lair and photography legend Chippy Wood surveys the four bikes waiting patiently for a thorough few days of testing. ‘Surely this isn’t fair,’ he says. ‘We all know how brilliant the Triumph is. With that 765cc triple it’s going to destroy the others, isn’t it?’
Easy to see where he’s coming from. The three-cylinder Street Triple has been the go-to midsize naked since Triumph whipped the fairing off the Daytona 675 sportsbike, bolted on upright ’bars and made everyone whoop back in 2007. Now with the muscular 765cc engine they use in Moto2 racing (well, sort of), festooned with the latest electronic gizmos and boasting big-brand chassis parts, the current RS is surely the flashest, bestest, mostest Street Triple of all time. It’s certainly the one that sells – last year they shifted 596 examples of the RS in the UK (making it Triumph’s most popular model), compared with 146 of the less blingy R and eleven of the entry-point S. No wonder it’s the only Street Triple variant that dealers bother having on demo. So our Chip is both surprised and disappointed to discover that the Triumph isn’t the playful, light hearted, easy-access motorbike it once was. As the RS it’s serious and frowny. And it’s the worst road bike here. Things are dandy to start with. The Triumph feels level and compact after the taller twins, like it’s easy to get hold of. Its seat has sumptuous deep padding, all the components have a fine finish and premium air,
and there’s a high-quality feel to all the points of contact. The engine immediately impresses too. ‘The 765 isn’t lacking midrange or bottom end,’ notes Simon. ‘In fact it’s more tractable than the Ducati, pulling hard in top gear from minimal revs. Fab quickshifter too.’
Then you reach a mini-roundabout or tight junction, and you discover the Street Triple’s nose-down, weight-forward chassis makes it steer like the front tyre is flat compared with the delicate KTM and breezy Ducati. The steering’s so weighty I actually check the pressure. Onward into typical British B-roads and things get even worse as the ridiculously stiff RS skips, bangs and jumps off every single bump and imperfection. Even itsy-bitsy ones. ‘On smooth roads the Triumph is tight and focused, entirely dedicated to maintaining optimal poise into, through and out of corners,’ reckons Simon. ‘But shovel some bumps into the mixer, like on 90% of British roads, and it’s seriously over-damped and oversprung. It feels as if it has about a millimetre of spring travel. Big bumps send you skyward. Over fast ripples you have to give up and ride the RS jockey-style, bum off the seat. Messing with the damping only unbalances the chassis and doesn’t do much to improve ride quality.’
It feels to me like the Street Triple sells on reputation. I have fond memories of the early 675cc model that dominated tests and put a smile on the face of every rider, from fresh-faced newbie to hardened hack. It was a cheerful, encouraging, suits-all-comers bike. It was fun. Maybe that’s what people still think they’re getting, but enhanced with many bells, all the whistles, and a finish to shame Ducati. But the quest to make the Street faster, bigger, sharper has turned it into a hard-nosed sportsbike. It’s like a Yamaha R6 with flat ’bars. It’s not fun. And actually it makes the RS slower – all the others are easier to ride briskly.
Not everyone is like me, of course. Maybe I’m in the minority in wanting usability, lightness and internal organs that aren’t rearranged by the B5023. ‘I love the RS,’ claims Simon. ‘The power curve is traditionally sporty, weighted to the top end, and it’s here where the Street Triple pings – it gets better the faster you ride. It’s brilliant when you want to bury your head in the tank and screw the bejaysus out of it. Get demanding with the Ducati, ask more of it, and it still cheerily boffs along, giggling, happy with the world – it’s like someone chuckling at you while you punch them in the face. Punch the Triumph and it punches back.’