YOU have to be pretty old to remember when Sachs last made
complete motorcycles. So it seems like only yesterday to me when
the W2000 rotary was launched in 1975. Confusingly, that
particular model carried DKW or Hercules badges, two other
famous German names absorbed by the company in its distinguished
history.
In recent years two-wheeler links have been confined
to suspension components, but now Sachs is back with a range of
retros. First to appear was a 125cc V-twin, with 800cc and one
litre variations to follow. In the meantime, the 650 Roadster is
here, the odd bike out due to its single-cylinder engine.
Classic die-hards claim that a "one-lunger" offers the
quintessential motorcycling experience, particularly if it
happens to be British. Funnily enough, Triumph, the old British
marque that survived the longest, abandoned large capacity road
singles before Norton, BSA, Velocette, Matchless et al. Which
might have told us something, but nevertheless didn't stop the
Japanese from resurrecting the idea virtually the minute our
home industry was bulldozed under Birmingham.
That's relevant here because developing engines from scratch
demands huge investment, so Sachs shops in Japan for power
units. Suzuki provides the Roadster's 644cc air/oil cooled
motor, a slightly modified version of that used in the current
XF650 Freewind. The chassis was designed by Egli, a company long
associated with re-framed BMWs and, before that, Vincents.
Although Sachs suspension is used at the rear, the forks of this
eclectic package come from Italy, courtesy of Paioli.
Seeing the bike for the first time, it certainly looks distinct
- distinctly odd, some might say. Twin-shock rear suspensions
are so uncommon now that the pair of chrome springs sprouting
under the seat immediately make the Roadster seem quaint. The
second thing that strikes you is its length. In pursuit of
racetrack handling, current sports bikes are about 4in shorter
in the wheelbase and generally more petite.
After processing
the available data, the word "Slow" pings into your brain's
out-tray: slow handling, slow performance. You therefore tend to
be fully loaded with preconceptions by the time you stretch over
the long petrol tank and press the starter button.
But wait. This bumper bag of bigotry completely overlooks one
important factor. Contrary to a myth created by bike magazines,
not all motorcyclists spend their entire lives doing wheelies
and pivoting round corners on smouldering knees. Some commute.
Some enjoy pottering through the countryside on a sunny day
wearing a smile and an open-face helmet. Some even go touring at
less than 120mph. For them, a big soft single is ideal. I know
this is true because I've owned one myself for 18 years.
While 50 horsepower isn't much by bike standards, it's enough
to out-accelerate most cars up to 80mph, when the upright riding
position starts to become a drag. As this speed also coincides
with the point at which a thrum of vibration intrudes, it's
really as fast as you'll want to go for long anyway, even in a
Gatso-free world.
The engine is happiest in the 4,000-6,500rpm bracket.
Although the huge 100mm piston can be persuaded to move at up to
about 8,000rpm, the power curve is on a downward slope by then.
At the other end of the scale, the price you pay for squeezing
more horses out of a single becomes apparent. Trad Brits of the
glory days pulled smoothly from low revs, a quality commonly
referred to as "plonk". To do this they needed heavy flywheels
and a mild state of tune. Modern high-tech singles aspire to be
multis, with the side-effect that if you attempt to accelerate
at less than 4,000rpm in the higher gears it feels as if the
engine is jumping out of the frame. Sorry, they're all like
that, sir.
Egli's chassis acquits itself well. While the wheelbase is
long, the steering geometry is quite sharp, so the handling
strikes a nice balance between stability and twitchiness. Sneers
directed at the outmoded rear suspension seem uncalled for (I
have a suspicion that twin-shock swinging arms will one day be
re-invented as a fashionable solution to some of the problems
created by monoshocks). It's actually easier to find fault with
the lightly sprung and damped forks, which dive and pitch more
than is desirable. Comfortable ride, though. The Grimeca brakes
are fine, but those expecting two-finger "stoppies" will find
the single front a bit heavy.
So what sort of motorcyclist will buy a Roadster 650? Well, a
mature one. Be honest, do you really need a machine capable of
lapping the Isle of Man TT course at 120mph? There are plenty of
dual-purpose big singles on the market, but nothing else exactly
comparable. Ironically, the bike that comes closest is the BSA
Gold SF, built by the vestiges of the firm that was once the
biggest plonker producer in the world.