Aprilia RSV 1000R Factory

Aprilia's 1000cc Mille sportbike has been around for nearly a decade now, yet the Italian company hasn't rested on its laurels, but spent time and money developing the bike to meet V-twin competition from Honda, Suzuki and of course, Ducati.

The Mille Factory R for 2005 represents perhaps the ultimate blend of speed, handling and power that any fast rider could ask for in a 1000cc machine. With features like USD, Öhlins race specification forks, radial-mounted callipers on the 320mm Brembo disc brakes, revised fuel map and a multi-adjustable Öhlins gas nitrogen monoshock.

If all that sounds a bit anorak to you, then obviously this bike isn't going to be your cup of espresso, because the Mille Factory R is aimed at riders who want performance above all else. Does it deliver? Yes, it is mindblowing to ride, but at around £12,000 new, it should be.

DETAILS MATTER

They do y'know, otherwise we would all wear velour jump suits and no-brand trainers. The details are what set something apart from imitators, define its value, badge our aspirations to world.

In that respect, the Factory R ticks all the right boxes. With its clear plastic indicator lenses, the shark-like edges of its tail section, the carbon air scoops at the nose and the angry silhouette of a lion's head raging across the fairing panel, it spells out speed, power and finesse to anyone bright enough to read the signs.

You would never guess from the attention shown to every fastener, the luscious paint, the shine from each nut and bolt, that Aprilia were recovering from a recent bankruptcy. It looks beautifully made and oozes quality like a leopard emits subdued menace from every sinew. I mean, just look at that banana sculpted swingarm for god's sake...

OK, so by now you're clear that I liked the bike and think it is damn good at doing what it says on the tin. Sure, but - and it's a big but - the Factory R is a harsh, unforgiving sort of beast. It shakes occasionally when you're accelerating out of a bumpy corner, twitching nervously at the handlebars as the front tyre leaves the tarmac. It's exciting, but after a while, you would rather it possessed the inherent, predictable stability of the GSXR1000, the CBR600RR, or perhaps the slinky, relaxed poise of a Ducati 749.

The Ducati 999 by the way is exactly like the Aprilia - it has too much grunt for its own good sometimes and unlike professional road racers, I don't enjoy riding at the very edge of adhesion all the time. The cars, buses, lorries and drug-addled chav children which pepper the UK streets demand that any motorcycle rider has some degree of control over the bike, a margin for the unexpected.

But the Factory R and the 999 Ducati - when ridden hard - are unpredictable animals. They can catch you out, especially in the wet, with the sheer piledriver of torquey power they deliver between 4,000-9,000 revs. On a hot lap of Silverstone, I wouldn't be arsed about the back end stepping slightly sideways at 60mph, or feeling the `bars flick from my fingertips as I crossed a huge bump at Knockhill. But on the A41, coming out of a greasy roundabout near a truckstop, I can do without too much drama.

If I sound like I'm nitpicking, it's because I am. For 95% of the time, the Factory R is a subtle blend of awesome power and deft chassis control, which makes you feel so glad to be alive you want to adopt a penguin. But now and then, it reminds you that it is a pure racer-for-the-road. A moody missile.

The bottom line is that I don't need that much fearsome performance in a road legal motorcycle, and more importantly, I can get the same exotic cocktail of adrenaline far cheaper from bikes like the Gixer 1000, the Kawasaki ZX6-R or say the Aprilia Tuono - which is utterly barking mad.

The Factory R is a great motorcycle, a symphony of speed, but you have to be a special kind of rider to truly use it...and then, only sparingly. It's too damn perfect, too beautiful, to waste droning to work along the M56 on a wet Tuesday.

Source Insidebikes.com