Indian FTR R Carbon
The most expensive bike here delivers a different kind of retro. Think Schwarzenegger being all Terminator and you’re in the right place…
The FTR R Carbon isn’t really a retro-styled bike for the 2020s. Instead, it’s the kind of bike the retro world thought we’d be riding in the 2020s. Going back in time, the FTR wouldn’t have looked out of place ridden by Schwarzenegger in Terminator. It could have messed with the hover boards in Back to the Future too. Or even chased down replicants with Harrison Ford in Blade Runner. (Mr Ford actually rides a BMW.) You get the idea…
These retro-futuristic, flat track-inspired looks divide opinion among our testers. Andy and I agree that, in his words: ‘It’s an odd-looking thing.’ But Mike is obviously taken by the carbon frock (which shaves but a kilogram from the standard FTR’S 233kg wet weight). ‘I think the FTR looks mega,’ he grins.
Whatever you think of the style, there’s no arguing with the FTR’S 1203cc V-twin engine. Want to be rubbed raw by engine sensations and rabid torque? Ride the Indian. From low speed, it picks up like a scalded Ork wielding a jackhammer. Momentary pause, then chackachacka, hard and fast, right across the rev range. This engine makes even the Triumph's power delivery seem tame. Savage acceleration is twinned with an unhinged exhaust note: strangely flat, but with an intake noise that sounds like one of the carbon panels is rattling loose. Considering all of this it’s perhaps surprising that the FTR still delivers a gentle – almost refined – experience when you come to the next sleepy village. Fuelling is impressively soft at small throttle openings considering there are two huge 102mm-diameter pistons bouncing in the cylinders.
It’s all too much for Mike. ‘This is what a big V-twin should feel like,’ he enthuses with abandon. ‘There’s no need to rev it or worry about gears, all you have to do is tease the twistgrip and feel that massive engine punch you forward. It’s a mighty motor but then it is refined and civilised too.’
Point it at a bend in a B-road, however, and the FTR reveals a less impressive side: unlike the BMW with its shaft drive and the Ducati with its 18-inch front wheel, the Indian’s Öhlins suspension and 17-inch wheels hike our handling expectations through the roof. But it doesn’t deliver as we’d hoped. ‘I really liked the earlier 1200 with the 19-inch front wheel and semi-knobbly rubber,’ says Mike. ‘It gave a great balance of throw-about ease, outright handling and rider confidence. This blinged-up R doesn’t inspire me in the same way. The overly firm springs and racy set-up mean a lack of feel and confidence at the sort of speeds I’m happy riding at. And when I’m unhappy, the other little issues become more apparent. Cruise control is awful, tank filler is awkward, fuel gauge is pessimistic and some of the features on the touchscreen dash are the opposite of intuitive.’
Ah yes, the touchscreen. It’s a curious 4.3-inch device that, when compared with the classy and refined twin dials of the Triumph and
BMW, looks completely out of place. Granted, it’s chocka with goodies: dark mode, different layouts, connectivity, and there's even an option to deactivate one of the cylinders to help manage heat levels in stop-start traffic. But every time one of us turns the FTR’S key we are greeted with a Health and Safety warning, and this mood-killer is followed by the computer’s boot sequence which takes a full 20 seconds to complete (you don’t get a ‘loading gauges’ message on any other bikes with a TFT screen). You could be pulling a fifth gear power wheelie at 100mph before the FTR can even display your speed. All very frustrating, and I don’t see the frustration easing over time. Even more unfortunately the refresh rate of the screen is so low that the rev counter updates around fifteen times per second – for reference you need 60 times a second to start simulating something like a real analogue clock. Anyone who's set off an explosion in Goldeneye 64 will understand what I mean by low refresh rate. Mike and I both prefer the simple, clear and bright dash affixed to Yamaha’s XSR – a bike that’s a whole £6000 cheaper than the Indian.
Despite the barmy engine and smooth fuelling the Indian is relegated to a curiosity in this company. We’re all glad it exists but it remains too divisive and too expensive to be taken seriously.
‘We’re all glad it exists, and glad it’s here. But it remains too divisive and too expensive’