Triumph Speed Triple RR
Take one potent supernaked, apply superbike ergonomics, wrap in neo-classic styling, and hold on extremely bloody tight
‘It’s funny, riding the RR… it’s the respectable face of speed’
Don’t be fooled by its Thruxton-esque fairing. Triumph’s new and £17,950 RR is as retro as wi-fi controlled central heating and drive-through estate agents (yes, they’re a thing). It boasts endlessly adjustable rider aids, light-up switchgear and cruise control. Cunning electronics constantly tweak the suspension. There’s a slick TFT dash too, with connectivity so that you can receive phone calls, listen to music, view navigation or control a Gopro camera. Oh, and the Speed Triple RR is also fast. By which I mean properly, staggeringly, shape-shiftingly ballistic.
Fire from the lights and the RR sprints to 60mph in just 2.9 seconds, which beats the more powerful Aprilia Tuono and is almost a whole second faster than the Ducati Multistrada V4. Dawdle at 40mph in top gear and whack open the throttle, and it romps to 80mph quicker than the mighty Suzuki Hayabusa. Actually, this does the Triumph disservice – it doesn’t just beat the Busa but completely wastes it, the hyperbike dropping away in the so-so mirrors as the RR hurtles off. This remarkable performance is due in part to not weighing much; at 204kg fuelled (against a claimed 199kg, which is 10kg lighter than Aprilia reckon the Tuono weighs) the RR is the lightest here. But it’s mainly thanks to the wondrous engine. Powered by the same 1160cc inline three-cylinder unit as the naked Speed Triple RS, its dynotested 166bhp (12 horses fewer than claimed) is obviously plenty but not all that extravagant in a world of 200bhp sportsbikes. It’s how the RR delivers its wallop that makes it so swift. Prodigious torque is available everywhere from idle to the 11,000rpm limit and the power curve is a perfect straight line diagonally up the graph, so the Triumph strides onward regardless of insignificances like engine speed and gear. Ridiculous pace is always just 2mm of twistgrip away. The triple doesn’t whoosh like the Suzuki’s luxurious four, have the response of Aprilia’s V4 or the surprising top-end of the Ducati. Instead, the RR just – goes. It’s a toss-up between the Aprilia and Triumph for which bike most encourages you to ride in a way you’d never admit to, and it’s because of more than their ludicrous engines. The Tuono inspires antisocial carry-on with its Motogp soundtrack, aggressive stance and commanding riding position. And the Speed Triple does it by feeling and behaving like a pukka superbike. They may have created the RR by slapping clip-on ’bars and a fairing onto the strippedback RS, but it’s not a halfway house between sportsbike and supernaked. The riding position is like a BMW S1000RR or Suzuki GSX-R1000R, with a sportily tall seat (830mm), high rearset footpegs and a downward reach to the controls. There isn’t as much seat space as on a race replica – the RR doesn’t let you thrust cheeks back while trying to climb inside its 15.5-litre fuel tank – but this doesn’t matter much on the B587. It reacts like a sportsbike too. Geometry is identical to the blade-like RS but with an even stumpier wheelbase, and with the plugged-in front-end feel from the clip-ons the speed at which the RR gets into, through and out of a corner makes me dizzy. Electronic Öhlins suspension constantly adjusts the rebound and compression damping, and the ride is plusher than the non-electronic RS. Five modes (rain, road, sport, track, self-configured rider) adjust response, torque output and the cornering traction, wheelie control and ABS. They also alter the ride: the racier the mode, the firmer the suspension. Predictably ‘normal’ works, and you can set up ‘rider’ mode for maximum urgency without having to endure a stiff suspension. Ride quality still isn’t as good as the Tuono or sumptuous as the Multistrada (they both also have semi-active Öhlins), but it’s better than its sibling.
It’s funny, riding the RR. You can’t help exploring its performance and track-ready handling, slicing up roads and going faster than you should be. Yet unlike the growling Tuono it doesn’t make you feel like a hooligan. You slew into a village, trying to scrub off an excess 60mph or so (with brakes that don’t quite live up to their billing), then saunter through convinced that locals will coo over the RR'S £300-option shimmering red paint and say things like, ‘ooh, a Triumph, isn’t that like Duke Hailwood used to ride?’. It’s the respectable face of speed.