HONDA CB650R
Excitement or refinement... Why not have both?
I love a Honda. I’ve heard some riders belittle them for being so well engineered that they’re a little soulless, but I think that’s guff. How can you criticise a bike for being refined and reliable? Particularly one that’s as naughty as the CB650R.
I’ve actually ridden the CB650R before. Only briefly mind, some time last year. I’ve ridden the CB1000R, too; I ran one for a few months and wrote about it in this very magazine. I’ve also spent time on the smaller models in the range – the CB125R and CB300R. Basically, I’m a fan of the whole ‘Neo Sports Café’ collective. Not the name though, that’s naff.
STYLE AND SUBSTANCE
That’s not important, though. Let’s talk about what is. First: its looks. I’ve listened to a varied bunch of opinions about the appearance of the futuristic-ish Honda (and they’ve not all been positive), but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a stylish number. It’s sharp – simple and stripped back, as a naked should be. It sports a fairly aggressive riding position, but those flat bars help mitigate most road-racing aspirations. It’s a comfortable place to be, too – the best of the bunch, I think. I’d not have any qualms covering some serious miles on it; heading to Europe for a bit of fun on some Alpine switchbacks. I’d have to pack light though, as there’s not much space for luggage.
It’s not exactly dripping with technology, but you get everything you need. There’s a digital dash offering a speedometer; a gear position indicator; a fuel gauge; a tachometer; a clock; a couple of trip meters; and mpg information. It also comes with Honda’s basic traction control. There’s no faffing – it’s just on or off. I like that. No need to complicate things, right? Honda’s also fitted it with an emergency brake light system. That means under particularly hard braking the front and rear indicators flash. I get why they’ve done it – and I imagine it’s particularly handy in urban environs where traffic’s on top of each other, but out on the open road, I’m not entirely sure if it’s necessary. I’m only whinging because I kept triggering it; my riding’s clearly not as smooth as I thought.
PUSHIN’ ON
That could be because the Honda wants to be ridden hard. While it’s not quite got the instant, low-down grunt of Yamaha’s twin-cylinder MT07, the CB650R’s 649cc inline four motor screams into life when you get it going. We’re talking just over 93bhp of peak power at 12,000rpm (yes, 12,000rpm!), while you’ve got 47.2ft-lb of torque to play with at 8500rpm. It’s a proper little weapon. It’ll still whizz around nicely when you need it, with its silky smooth gearbox and slipper clutch making shifts a breeze, but crack open the throttle and chase the revs to the limiter, and the Honda bursts into life. Oh man. It’s fun.
It’s not so happy pootling around town. It’ll do it, but if feels stifled in that environment. It’s still very usable though, smooth and unintimidating – which only acted as encouragement for me to push harder and harder and ride faster and faster when the road opened up. Now, that’s no bad thing. It’s a testament to its ease of use if anything – but you’ll need to have a cooler head than me to keep things legal on a regular basis.
Suspension comes in the form of some non-adjustable 41mm upsidedown Showa forks upfront. They are those SFF (Separate Function Fork) ones; meaning that there’s damping in one leg and springing in the other. At the back, there’s a monoshock Showa which offers 10 stages of pre-load adjustment. It’s an excellent set up which belies the Honda’s sub-£7500 price tag. The ride quality is as good as you’d expect; it’ll soak up the worst of the UK’s sketchy surfaces, while being stiff enough to allow you to press hard without feeling like it’s going to get out of shape. The stoppers are more than up to the job, too. Nissin four-pot radials grab a pair of 310mm discs at the front and a single piston caliper grabs a 240mm disc at the rear. They’re easy to use – nice and progressive with enough bite to stop you in a hurry.
IS IT FOR ME?
As journalists we’re obliged to try and find faults with the bikes we ride – but most modern machinery is so good, it’s often a struggle. That’s especially true of the Honda. The Japanese factory knows exactly what it’s doing; it’s proved it time and time again. Okay, it’s the most expensive of the three bikes (four if you count the Benelli we have included in the box) – but as soon as you sit on it, you can see why. It’s a proper step up.
Quite often middleweight nakeds can feel a little toy-like compared to their top-of-the-line counterparts. Not the Honda. The 202kg machine feels every bit as refined as its CB1000R big brother, it’s just got fewer electronics and less power. But I didn’t miss those things – and I don’t think you would either. It’s a proper bike, uncompromised and unfalteringly unflappable.
If you’re one of the many bikers who just like to hoon around for a bit of fun, you don’t commute, you don’t tour and you don’t trackday, then I don’t think you could do much better than the CB650R. It’ll do all that stuff just fine, but it makes the most sense on rural A- and B-roads with as many corners as you can muster. Those flat bars help, too – you can grab hold and flick it from side to side with ease. Any naysayers who reckon a 650cc machine with just shy of 100bhp is not enough for them, I don’t believe you. It’ll top a ton without any trouble, and on a twisty stretch of Tarmac it would hold its own with most ‘bigger and better’ bikes. The big question is if it’s lovable? Does it inspire a passionate response? Does it have a soul? Maybe not. But it’s a bloody good bike that I would’ve happily held on to for longer. That’ll do for me.
RIDING THE SV
There is a reason why the SV has been doing the rounds for so long – it’s a fantastic bike. No, really it is! Don’t let the power figures or the age of the machine fool you – the SV is still fun, sorted and relevant.
As soon as you start the engine, the rumble from the 645cc V-twin lets you know that you’re in for a good time. At tickover it sounds like a bigger machine, and as you ride it – especially above 5000rpm – the noise gets even more glorious and grininducing, making you want to hang on to the gears a little longer than strictly necessary. And don’t worry, you’ll hear it okay even with earplugs in.
The riding position is comfortable, but compact. The pegs are fairly high, and you lean a little towards the handlebars.
The seat is firm, but comfortable, and the lack of screen means no buffeting. The overall feel is relaxed, but committed, with plenty of feel for what’s happening underneath you.
One aspect of the bike that surprised me was the enthusiastic, but smooth power delivery. And having just ridden the Royal Enfield Interceptor before this bike, the difference between two 650cc twins was astounding: the extra power that the SV has makes it feel sportier and more alive – and naturally, it makes things like overtakes much easier. Performance levels were upped again when I jumped on the CB650R, which in comparison feels more like a big litre bike with its four-cylinder engine and superior power.
Pleasant surprises continued with the SV’s gearbox. It’s super-smooth with quick and decisive action, whether you bother with the clutch or not. This is one bike where a quickshifter would be an utter waste of money.
Although the SV seems to punch above its weight in many respects, it still retains the benefits of a smaller bike. The main one being light and accurate handling. The handlebars aren’t very wide, but because the steering is so light it feels like you have plenty of leverage. With the quick-turning nature of the machine, it’s difficult to resist the urge to do a little slalom when you’re bored in slowmoving traffic.
Riding faster, the composed feel of the SV doesn’t falter. The suspension is firm, but not harsh or crashy. Fast cornering is stable, hard braking doesn’t upset the forks, and you constantly feel connected to the road. Whatever speed you choose to ride at, the SV makes the job easy and enjoyable.
Brakes are powerful and sharp enough to bring you to a halt quickly. I tested the Tokico front brakes in anger as a driver pulled up in front of me from a side street – they brought me to a stop with enough time to gesticulate wildly at the driver of the car before I continued my journey.
The two things absent from the SV package are bells and whistles. This is a simple bike with no added extras, but you know what, there was absolutely nothing missing that I felt I needed on the bike. Everything from power delivery to suspension, from the riding position to brakes are so well set up that I can’t see any need for adjustment or electronic help.
One thing that would make the bike more suitable for the kind of riding I do would be the ability to add luggage. As it is, there are no bungee hooks for a tail pack, although a top box and tank bag are available from Suzuki.
IN A NUTSHELL
The SV650 is a great combination of easy riding, thrilling performance and accessibility in many ways. Its handling is light and easy, giving you a feeling that you could do a U-turn at any speed. The ride is predictable and comfortable, with a feel of a bike at a much higher price bracket. And most importantly for me, it’s not just a boring middleweight – far from it. It has the perfect amount of power to keep things interesting, but not too much so you still feel like you’re in control of the ride.
If I had the money, I would buy one as a second bike to use as an everyday runaround, trackday bike, weekend blaster, and I bet it would be ideal for a bit of Motogymkhana, too. On Tarmac, you could do pretty much anything other than big miles touring on this bike. Having said that, I bet that has been done, too – so it could really be the only bike you have.