The semi-naked twin
Approaching the Tuono Factory for the first time after taking its keys following a spin on the RS660, I’m not expecting the so-called naked model to feel very different. After all, it’s not really naked, any more than the Tuono V4 Factory is. With both these middleweight test bikes being basically black, I needed more than a quick glance to make sure of taking the right one.
So it was quite a surprise to throw a leg over the Tuono Factory’s seat, and find it seeming so broad and comfortable after the RS’s narrower and less well-padded perch. The riding position was more different than I’d expected. The RS660’s clip-on style bars are pretty high by sportsbike standards, but the Tuono’s single handlebar is notably higher and wider, giving a near-upright riding position.
On reflection, it’s no surprise that Aprilia pushed the Tuono Factory’s ergonomics to be as street-oriented as possible, because in most respects this bike and the RS660 are almost identical twins. The Factory has the same engine as the RS, complete with unchanged max output – unlike the base-model Tuono 660, whose lower 95bhp maximum allows it to be further restricted for A2 riders.
Aprilia is arguably pushing its luck by giving this bike the Factory designation. After all, that has traditionally been reserved for flagship superbikes with Öhlins suspension and other fancy features. But this less exotic middleweight does get the RS660’s full APRC bunch of electronic aids including traction control and cornering ABS, unlike the standard Tuono, which makes do with a more basic set up.
The only notable engine-related difference between RS and Tuono Factory is that the latter has a 16instead of 17-tooth front sprocket. The shorter gearing should in theory boost low-rev acceleration, at the expense of a busier feel. In practice the difference is minimal, and if the Tuono felt as though it was leaping forward slightly more urgently that was probably because there was more wind hitting me in the chest.
On the other hand, the RS’s more sheltered riding position probably encouraged me to ride it harder, so I suspect speeds were typically higher on the sports bike even if it didn’t feel that way. Which begs the old question: what do you want from a sporty bike – to ride fast or to feel as though you’re riding fast?
Either way, we’re splitting hairs here. Like the RS, the Tuono 660 Factory had an impressively broad torque curve; it was responsive by 4000rpm, pulled nicely from six grand, and felt enjoyably quick as it approached the limiter just past
10,500rpm, staying respectably smooth albeit with a slight buzz through its bars. The gearbox changed sweetly with the help of the standard-fitment shifter, but sometimes struggled to find neutral.
The Tuono cruised happily at 80mph, with cruise control to help when required, put 100mph on the clock very easily and would reach 130mph, neck muscles willing.
It was happy to lift its front wheel when I turned off the anti-wheelie control, which was easily done via the excellent TFT display. It doesn’t come close to matching the awesome heft of its V4 namesake, but for many riders it will be all the Tuono they need.
This is a more down-to-earth Factory, and a respectably practical and cheap-to-run one, too. Like the RS, it was good for mid-50s mpg when ridden enthusiastically, and 60mpg at a gentler pace. That should give a realistic range of about 140 miles from the 15-litre tank, once you learn that the pessimistic warning light sometimes comes on with almost five litres left in the tank.
It’s almost identical in other ways, too, notably the easily used APRC electronics. Like the RS, the Tuono gives a choice of five riding modes, two of which are aimed at track use, and one of which is fully customisable. Its IMU even allows a cornering headlight function, with extra lights that come on in a turn. Less cleverly, the headlight’s dipswitch was easily pressed by mistake.
Chassis performance was also very good. A nudge of those wide handlebars was sufficient to get the Tuono flicking into turns, and its suspension – 41mm KYB forks up front, a similarly multi-adjustable shock at the rear – generally kept things nicely under control, albeit without quite matching the more streamlined RS’s ultra-planted feel at high speed.
On standard settings the ride was fairly firm, and occasionally the shock felt slightly harsh on bumpy roads. But it’s a capable set up, enhanced by excellent Brembo brakes (same as the RS’s) and Diablo Rosso Corsa II rubber. You could happily turn up at a track day on the Tuono and have a good time, although the RS would feel more at home.
If there’s anywhere that these two very similar Aprilias can be split though, it’s probably at the opposite end of the performance spectrum. In town, the Tuono’s upright riding position is notably kinder on its rider’s wrists, and that broad seat is distinctly more comfortable. It’s no bike for a pillion, but then again nor is the RS.
Ultimately, the choice between the two comes down to ergonomics, not economics. At £10,000 the Tuono Factory costs just £300 less than the RS, and would probably suit more riders, more often. Despite not really being naked it’s one of the most expensive bikes in the red-hot naked middleweight class – and also one of the best.