APRILIA MOTO 6.5
Steve Cooper rides this charming Suzuki classic.
What do you get when an Italian motorcycle manufacturer asks a French designer to style a motorcycle that runs an Austrian engine?
This month’s classic ride, of course: the Aprilia Moto 6.5 aka the Aprilia ‘Starck’. And before you all start firing off emails and letters to poor old Bertie asking why we’re featuring such a weird machine within the pages of CMM, get this. Some people really get Phillippe Starck’s handiwork and there’s actually a section of the Aprilia Owner’s Club dedicated to this rather wacky, left-field motorcycle. Whether you love or hate the looks is actually immaterial; without exception no one can ignore this design exercise made into metal and plastic.
The bike exists because Aprilia believed it might just be possible to tempt car drivers out of their metal boxes and on to two wheels, thereby reducing the congestion levels of urban and city roads. The company was sharp enough to know that a traditionally styled motorcycle would never have mass appeal to car drivers so they tried something novel instead. Aprilia employed a designer with an international reputation for cutting-edge, clean designs and he rather conveniently also happened to be a keen motorcyclist. What could possibly go wrong? Well, for most classic enthusiasts it would have to be the Moto 6.5, simply because it doesn’t look like a conventionally styled machine. And yet that’s exactly the end product both Aprilia and Stark
were aiming for. The fact that the bike didn’t sel l well is hardly the fault of the designer who unquestionably fulfilled his brief. No, if there’s any blame attached to the lack of sales of the
6.5 it can be very neatly bundled up and laid at Aprilia’s door for ever thinking that car drivers would want to ride motorcycles in the first place… the very notion! The migration levels from car driver to bike enthusiast have always been low and no set of posh threads is ever going to win a confirmed car driver over.
Phillippe Starck’s vision for a tactile and non-threatening motorcycle was one of smooth anda sinuous curves with just two bold diagonal lines, the bottom of the tank and the lower edge of the side panel that run parallel to each other. Everywhere you look there are details that simply do not ever feature on any other series production machines. Yes, it is unquestionably a Marmite motorcycle, but it is also a very serious study in symmetry, flowing lines and, ultimately, minimalism. Whether or not you actually like the outcome is immaterial because Starck categorically delivered the goods. The tank flows into the seat, which in turn blends into the tail piece, then the rear light and finally takes in the rear guard and number plate. Few motorcycling companies have ever managed to design a truly inconspicuous exhaust system; the default position is generally to make a feature out of it. Yet on the Moto 6.5 the entire system is pretty much anonymous until you
get to the twin outlets. With the downpipes buried underneath the radiused radiator, then masked by the curved and perforated bash plate, there’s actually little evidence of anything. Knowing that noise is always an issue with big singles
Aprilia and Starck managed to disguise the collector box under the power unit and press it out of stainless steel in such a way that it mirrors the lower frame rails. Once again you may not like the look, but there’s no denying it’s a singularly novel and clever approach to an age-old problem.
Minimalism is the name of the game here and everywhere you look toning down and blending in are the guiding principles. Grey control cables and electrical wiring abound, whilst flat silver and beige are used for the switchgear, bars, frame and outer engine cases. Even the water hoses are pale grey to further blend in and harmonise. The same approach is used to disguise the cooling system’s expansion tank, which gets a silver cover with a viewing window. Rather than leave gaping holes twixt motor and frame there’s even a lockable storage bin on the opposite side just above the gearbox. It is, without doubt, a brave and courageous approach to motorcycle aesthetics. And don’t be mistaken into thinking that the Moto 6.5 is purely form over function. It might look odd, but the visual enhancements haven’t compromised purpose; there was precious little pennypinching when it came to the essential bought-in components. The wheel rims are high end flangeless alloy items; the rear caliper is from Grimeca; the front from Brembo; and that unique exhaust system bears the famous Lafranconi stamp. The swingarm is oval section for strength and carries eccentric chain adjusters with the suspension at both ends provided by Marzocchi.
Throwing a leg over the bike you are presented by a decent seat, although the passenger gets a rougher deal with a thin tapering pad for a perch. The fuel tank is plastic and finished in what was then an unusual satin-cum-matte coating; Starck and Aprilia were clearly showing they were ahead of the curve with what’s now a popular funky custom option for bikes, cars and skid lids. Those wide satin sliver bars that don’t run any obvious clamps set you in a vaguely off-road position, but not one that ever
becomes uncomfortable. The switchgear is easy to use and well laid out, yet once again runs the silver/ grey/beige theme. About the only slightly naff part of bike are the instruments. A tacho I can live without, the quirky speedo makes sense of a kind and the separate temperature gauge is a nice touch, but the idiot lights… let me tell you about the idiot lights. Four bulbs (I use the word bulbs advisedly) live in a quartered housing that’s little bigger than the bezel to the ignition switch. In daylight it’s almost impossible to see if they’re illuminated or not. Given that their purpose is to advise the rider of potentially safety critical circumstances I’d politely suggest someone was asking for a product liability case
– they really are farcically naff!
Firing up the Aprilia Moto 6.5 requires but a brief stab of the button, which then has the big Rotax power plant happily burbling away. First gear goes in with a moderate crunch then we’re off and away in a style only big singles can do. Single lungers have come on a long way since the days of oily British lumps with huge flywheels, asthmatic breathing and vibrations only just this side of a road drill. The five valve motor inhales its fuel/air in through a large Mikuni carburettor in a manner the likes of Velocette and BSA could only dream of. There’s no shuddering, coughing or spluttering, just creamy torque up to and beyond the obvious change up point. The gear pedal’s tip initially seems tucked out of the way, but once located is easy to use. Gear changes are, initially, a little on the notchy side of pleasant, but once the engine and oil are warmed up they become slickly mechanical.
The riding position is very much upright with arms held outward, but no up which, although a little odd initially, soon becomes both natural and comfortable. Although those bars might look wide in our static shots they don’t feel it when the bike is making progress. Someone thought long and hard about the ergonomics here and personally I reckon they did a damn fine job… pillion seat excepted. Thanks to the Pirelli Sport Demon rubber the rider tends to run out of bottle long before the tyres loose grip. The handling is sublime, modern, quality Italian as opposed to 1970s bone-jarring Italian. The various springs and hydraulics do a grand job of keeping the plot in line whilst retaining a compliant nature that’s always comfortable without feeling armchair soft. The brakes aren’t necessarily top draw material, but neither are they low rent, bargain
basement, either. Lots of feel at the lever or pedal and without too much mass to retard, they are more than up to the job.
If we make the leap of faith that Rotax were in on the design specification then doubtless they added their expertise to the five valve mill and honed it just right for its intended purposes. You want to bimble around the potholed back lanes of Blighty all day in a high gear? The Moto 6.5 can do that. Alternatively, if you want to get a wiggle on and work that one big piston, then thanks to Messrs. Rotax, Pirelli and Marzzochi (purveyors of class rides), it will happily oblige and make you smile. And talking of the motor, it is actually a rather well-kept secret within the bike world and I wonder why we don’t hear more about it to be honest. It’s ridiculously smooth for a single, as well as being remarkably tractable. It’s as happy on a whiff of throttle as it is when given a fistful. And knowing that this is a carburated engine and not some modern, fly-by-wire, multi-microchip, multiple sensor, fuel-injected device, it makes it feel even more impressive. The more I ride Phillippe Starck’s interpretation of a car driver-friendly motorcycle the more I get to like it and, rather worryingly, even its looks are beginning to make sense!
Negatives to owning a Moto 6.5? Well, obviously the designer didn’t do the job free of charge and his fees may account for the variable quality of some of the bike’s peripheral fitments. Some of the grey cabling is now yellow brown and to be honest there really isn’t an excuse for this. The Big Four had UV resistant cables sussed out in the 60s so it begs the question, why did Aprilia’s suppliers cut costs here? It can make a good ride look shabby far too soon. Another styling foible, the beige switch gear and the pipe to the rear master cylinder are similarly seemingly discoloured. Also with a stainless steel collector box fitted, why should the twin exhaust headers not be made of the same please? Finally, the initially comfortable seat becomes harder after an hour or so into our ride.
And yet I’m really only nit-picking. The nuts and bolts on the bike have stood up fine and much better than many machines from Italy. The Moto 6.5 is a genuinely involving machine to ride and enjoy… providing you can get along with its looks. Ultimately the bike remains nothing more than a flawed hypothesis; car drivers are never going to take up two wheels no matter how you style a motorcycle. For me the bike remains a bold and daring exercise, yet one that was ultimately doomed to failure. The silver and beige example here is for me just a little too safe cosmetically and the all black one looks like an undercover camouflaged prototype. But the orange and silver Aprilia Moto 6.5… now, that makes me smile. Rather worryingly, I do believe Monsieur Starck’s vision has made a lasting impression!