Multiple disk in oil bath with patented PPC
power-assisted hydraulic control
Frame
Box section sloping twin-spar frame in
aluminium alloy. Removable aluminium alloy saddle mount frame.
Rake
25°
Trail
99 mm / 3.9 in
Front Suspension
Upside-down Öhlins fork, Ø43 mm diameter titanium nitride
treated sleeves. External adjustment system for rebound, compression and
preload. Shortened stanchions. Radically fixed caliper. Solid machined light
alloy top yoke.
Front Wheel Travel
120 mm / 4.7 in
Rear Suspension
Swing arm in Aluminium alloy, progressive linkage with
APS system. Boge hydraulic monoshock with adjustment for preload,
compression and rebound dampening.
Single Ø220 mm stainless steel disc, 2 piston caliper, Brembo
Wheels
Cast aluminium alloy
Front Wheel
3.50 x 17"
Rear Wheel
6.00 x 17"
Front Tyre
120/70 ZR17
Rear Tyre
190/50 ZR17 (alternative: 180/55 ZR17)
Dimensions
Length: 2070 mm / 81.5 in
Width: 800 mm / 31.5 in
Height: 1200 mm / 47.2 in
Wheelbase
1415 mm / 55.7 in
Seat Height
820 mm / 32.3 in
Dry Weight
181 kg / 399 lbs
Fuel Capacity
18 L / 4.8 US gal
Fuel Reserve
4 L / 1.1 US gal
Standing
¼ Mile
10.9 sec
Top Speed
252.5 km/h / 156.8 mp/h
.
The Max Factor
Only ten examples of Aprilia's exotic
Tuono R have made it Down Under. One's already been written off, but that
didn't stop the owner of #216 throwing Boris the key and pointing him at The
Ox...
"Holy sainted buggery" is the only honest
way to describe what happens when you twist the Tuono R's panties in fourth
at 6000rpm. And on a moist and empty Oxley Highway it is not only honest,
but totally justified.
How I came to be blaspheming behind the
tapered golden bars of one of the world's rarest and most stunning
motorcycles was entirely due to Brother Silverback. Blasphemy and him just
seem to go together.
And it was his bike.
The fact that it was his bike was firmly
on my mind as I shifted into fifth at 8000rpm - well before its 10,500
redline and a bit before the owner-settable shift-now-stupid light flashes -
and profaning God gave way to plain old swearing.
Legal advice prevents me from telling you
how fast I was actually going at this stage, as does the fact that in
daylight, the only thing you can see on the digital speedo and analogue
tacho is a handsome reflection of the top bits of the front-end.
Sixth was the next gear (and utterly
useless for accelerating from anything less than 180km/h), but I was running
out of straight road and balls by now. I eased off and peered into the
mirrors to see if Brother Silverback was serving it to my Speed Triple in a
like fashion.
He wasn't too far behind (I'm so kind),
and as he caught up, I could tell by the way he was shaking his head he was
enjoying the unique thrill of watching me having sex with his bike, whilst
going very fast on my fully-laden, worst-seat-in-the-world Speed Triple.
Life can be a rough passage at times, can't it?
NAKED RELATIONS
And speaking of rough, Sir Alan, who tested the Tuono R in AMCN (Vol 51 No
24) in said, "...the only Nakedbike competitor the Tuono relates to is the
latest Triumph Speed Triple with the 955i Daytona engine..." and he's
roughly right. The Tuono R relates to the Speed Triple like an 18-year-old
roughly kicking the crap out of his 10-year-old brother.
Sure, the two bikes are indeed remarkably
similar in many ways, but the differences are just as remarkably vast.
A $21,990 Aprilia Tuono Fighter and the
$16,490 Speed Triple... well, that would be an altogether fairer fight. But
the $31,995 Tuono R has no equal. It is about as serious and exclusive a
weapon as you could ever want.
Remember, this is a stripped-down 130ps
Aprilia Mille R. It's not detuned, emasculated, or poncified. In fact, it's
2kg lighter and hugely sexed-up in an orgy of carbon-fibre, illegal titanium
race pipe, OZ wheels, Brembos and Pirelli Dragon Corsas as... shudder...
standard fitment.
Öhlins gold shines among the bizarre
shapes of the carbon-fibre paneling, and the Swedish suspension god's
goodness and mercy is manifested in all its glory each time you ride.
That's some 'standard', huh? Triumph
should weep in shame.
ASTOUNDING EFFECTIVENESS
The road effectiveness of this type of motorcycle package just cannot be
anything but astounding. Where you point it, it will go. Pretty much at
whatever speed you pick and at whatever damn rate of acceleration your heart
desires.
True, the wind pressure smashing you in
the head at all those silly speeds can be rather invigorating. And when your
neck starts to cramp from fighting wind-force, it is possible to tuck down
behind the tiny little fairing a tiny little bit. Do this if you're going to
get serious about seeing where the top-end is. The factory claims 250km/h.
It's probably right.
Theoretically speaking, if 6000rpm in
fourth is about 180km/h, then 8000 in fifth is somewhat quicker and redlining
it in sixth would be an act of madness and purity. I sure as shit couldn't
do it.
The Tuono R is a very highly-geared twin,
so if you want to experience psychopathic rates of getting from, say, 100km/h
and 180km/h (very handy and safe for overtaking, provided you're paying
attention to just how hard this thing accelerates) it pays to use third and
fourth with a will. W hich is what I immediately started doing as The Ox
began serving up some rather tight-ish stuff at Mount Seaview.
BIG-BORE CRACK...
Brother Silverback may well have started sawing away at the Triple's gearbox
himself then, but all I could hear was the incredibly powerful, big-bore
machine gun crack of the Tuono R's exhaust... and I began to curse yet
again.
Because this was all a bit overwhelming.
I had never ridden anything remotely this... well, precise, I suppose. The
overkill in the integrity of its components is staggering - but so, so nice
to have.
The only thing that wobbled on the Tuono
was me. And that was entirely due to the wind and the screaming fear that
I'd bin it on some shifty, damp bend or smash into one of them beaut beef
cows grazing by the side of the road.
We'd just ridden through three herds of
the drought-stricken swine, one of whom attacked Brother Silverback when I
accidentally pulled in the Tuono's fabulous slipper clutch and revved it
like a thoughtless dog. He survived only because the Speed Triple is such a
magnificent bike, as I later told him. And it's completely replaceable in
case of DEBCOC (Death By Cattle Or Corner) - unlike Tuono R #216.
TRUE LIES
By now I knew that every bike mag I'd read about the Tuono R lied when it
said only 200 of them were made. But I'm told there were ever only 10 of
them imported into Australia, and NSW got three of them.
One of them is already dead, written off
on the Old Pacific Highway. The second one is sporting a set of fabulous
Akrapovic pipes and has been seen lurking with intent around twisty bits of
bitumen. The third is Brother Silverback's and now happily in my, errr,
control on a damp Oxley Highway.
I think the only other person to ride it
apart from him (and now me), was the mechanic who registered it and he was
no doubt killed shortly after.
Brother Silverback sacrificed mightily to
get the Tuono. He loves it deeply. The man took two motorcycles - a brand
new BMW RS and a near-new ZX-12R to Tom Byrne Motorcycles and refused to
leave the showrooms until they were taken from his sight and replaced by
"That bike there. On the altar. With the Not For Sale sign. The one with the
light of Heaven shining on it and being swallowed by the matt blackness of
its paint. Give it unto me."
So you can probably understand that there
was really no way I was about to explore the Dark Side on it. And quite
frankly, I'm simply not capable of riding the Tuono R anywhere near the edge
of its design parameters.
INGLORIOUS ENTRY
But what glorious parameters they are! A good deal more glorious than my
entry into the first of many, many wicked 45km/h (and slower) bends The Ox
now presented me with. Up until now, it had been fast-ish sweepers followed
by see-for-miles straights with three separate herds of cattle to keep your
nipples hard. Now it got bendy with a vengeance.
I glanced quickly at the mirror but the
Triple was hidden by the bend I'd just botched. My reputation thus intact, I
figured it would probably be wiser to stop just hoping I wouldn't trowel it
and actually make a concerted effort not to. I stopped riding 'on' the Tuono
and began riding 'in' it.
The reward was instantaneous. The moment
I started applying myself to the task, the Tuono bequeathed me some of the
most satisfying kilometres of my life. Sure, I mangled the odd line, braked
too late or too much, but mostly I got it right. Which is really more of a
testament to the Tuono than my skill as a rider.
It sure likes to be ridden with meaning,
I thought, giving thanks yet again for that fabulous slipper clutch as the
Tuono banked itself into corner after corner while I tramped through second,
third and fourth like the Germans through Poland - efficient, ruthless and
singing loud songs.
I also briefly wondered if Brother
Silverback would take my Triple bush somewhere behind me, but then
considered the implications of that (shame, pain, broken trees, wailing
women, blood... you know the deal) and put it from my mind.
The big fella's one of the best riders
I've ever seen. He can and does paste up the tyres when he's so moved, but
he picks and chooses when and where that is. He is immune to peer pressure.
Me rocketing off into the distance
doesn't always lure him out for a hot lap, but when it does, he will ride me
down like a dog even if it takes 100 kilometres of insanity to do so.
TAKING PITY
We finally pulled over at the lookout which sits a few kilometres before the
legendary Traveller's Rest pub at Long Flat to take some photos. I then made
the grievous error of taking pity on him. I gave him back his bike so that
at least he'd get to do the final fast, swoopy rush to Wauchope and Port
Macquarie.
Happily, Brother Silverback doesn't take
pity lightly. Leaving the lookout before me, he subjected me to a crazed
half-hour chase into Port Macquarie Which, at the end, left me with no
option but to rob servos and pubs until I can Öhlins up the Triple and fit
it with Valentino Rossi's race engine.
Later that afternoon, as we sat in a pub
at Port Macquarie, I told him what was wrong with his bike.
"The sidestand is too short and pitched
too steep," I said.
"It has yet to fall over," he intoned.
"I can't see the instruments in
daylight."
"You don't need to," he grinned. "They're
only worth looking at in the dark." "It's very thirsty. Each time we fill up
the bikes, yours takes two liters
more than mine and I'm carrying 50kg of
crap."
"It's very fast," he said calmly. "It
deserves more petrol. And it's not crap, it's Slivovitz."
FLAWLESS LOGIC
His logic was flawless. I'd run out of stuff to bellyache about and sculled
my beer in silence.
"Obviously it is now possible to build a
bike this good," Brother Silverback said after some moments.
"Obviously," I nodded.
"So why is that only Aprilia cares enough
to do so?"
"Why indeed," I muttered, wondering how
much money there'd be in the pub's till that evening...