Comparative test of naked bikes: BMW R 1150 R Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport Triumph Speed ​​Triple Yamaha XJR 1300


Comparative test of naked bikes: BMW R 1150 R Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport Triumph Speed ​​Triple Yamaha XJR 1300

Comparative test of naked bikes: BMW R 1150 R Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport Triumph Speed ​​Triple Yamaha XJR 1300

Cool and the gang

Four leather jackets. Four bald heads. Four dark sunglasses, eleven top hats, one fraud. And another 300 miles to Hamburg.

The day was as sultry as a well-hung blues. And they agreed. Brazen appearance, collect coal, march off. Like in the old days. Nobody would expect it. You don’t cheat bouncers. But that was exactly what happened. The four had won the bouncer contest in the following disciplines: Evilest look, most sinewy upper arm, most frightening tattoo. And the toughest job: Guido Westerwelle was denied entry to a disco due to his side parting. However, the committee had cheated them out of their bonuses. The meeting point was clear. Pforzheim, gas station. West side, 7:33 a.m. The destination too: Hamburg, container port. Office henchman, basement, third door on the left.
Klingen-Karl was the first to arrive. Leaned and his Yamaha XJR against the pump no. 6 and caught his eyes on the ticking bike. Wide handlebars, comfortable seat, four-cylinder, 1300 cm³, 110 hp with a mountain range of torque, ideally suited to recovering tree trunks: 110 Nm at 6600 rpm. Reason for euphoria? No. Blade didn’t care. Picking his nose was the only evidence that he occasionally became self-conscious.
Handsome Tom rocked up. Short nod, cigarette, fire. There were things he didn’t even talk about to himself. His bike: A BMW R 1150 R. Equipped with all sorts of bells and whistles: ABS composite system with electric brake booster, heated grips, case holders and a small windshield. The heart: a boxer engine with 84 hp ?? True coolness means making the whole world feel like it can. Or, so far, to drive a BMW anyway.
Bull Motzki, solarium brown, third in the group, rode a Harley. His teeth were so bright white that even his tongue wore sunglasses. The look is always so cool that stones crave a comfort blanket. His baby, a Dyna Super Glide Sport, shook a healthy 68 hp out of its 1450 cm³ and passed 80 Nm to the rear wheel just above idle speed. Enough to let the load pound forward like a tractor thanks to the huge flywheel. Something that Atze Braun, fourth of the troop, could be jealous of. Atze, however, was never jealous. Alcohol was the only enemy he’d come to love. And at the same time his last friend. His only love: the Triumph Speed ​​Triple. With 120 hp the strongest in the quartet of the naked. 955 cm³ with bulging-eyed lamps, an artful single-sided swing arm and a boomerang-shaped, small windbreak.
They flicked the fluff in sync, mistrusted the clock and swung into their saddles. The highway in sight, the wheels in rotation. Dutch caravans made use of the evidenced right to use the left lane, a few wrong-way drivers showed themselves to be oncoming. Clear path at last. Top speed. Motzki’s Harley capitulated at 170 km / h and wagged like a young pit bull when stimulated. Otherwise remained just as cool as its owner. Tom’s BMW found its limit almost without a life of its own at 209, Klinges Yamaha climbed to 224, Atze’s triumph came to an end at 244 km / h. The next departure screamed for attention. The call did not go unheard.
Such thoughts relaxed behind cool sunglasses. Hamburg was practically around the corner. Hid behind Westerwald, Sauerland, Heide. And crooks henchmen were only available in the evening. So enough time. The old vow to really share everything came back. The bikes were exchanged. Bull Motzki, wearing the thickest Harley glasses there are, mounted the Yamaha. Everyone knew what was coming.
The four-cylinder engine of the XJR is rightly called the big block. And he is the godfather that bigger is often better. As a source of sheer inexhaustible power, the 1300 even encourages you to rush through the aisles at high speed. Before you know it, the fifth and last one is locked at 50 km / h. Honestly: Nobody would notice if the fat Yamaha only had one gear. The engine is silky smooth up to 5000 rpm. It sends fine vibrations over it. If he wants to. When hot or even freezing cold, he sometimes ignores start commands like some strippers do during winter. So be it. The 2002 model applies with a successful suspension setup. The fork responds extremely sensitively, but is tight enough to protect against bottoming out in the event of emergency braking. The equally sensitive Ohlins suspension struts flatter all passengers from hunger pangs to sumo wrestlers. The brakes can easily handle it. They are very easy to dose and have an efficient effect. In terms of sole technology, the Michelin Macadam 90X helps the fat man to achieve better straight-line stability, more precise steering precision and easier handling than the Dunlop D 220. Last but not least, the very relaxed seating position also contributes to this. Everyone affirms that. Except for grumpy Harley fans.
Bull Motzki lived up to his name. At the latest when driving fast, tight alternating bends, the weight of the engine will act like a block of lead. Klingen-Karl took a piece of paper and straightened things out: Harley weight: 297 kg. Weight XJR: 249 kg. No questions. Silence for minutes. Then Motzki started the BMW.
Braking with the 1150 R is almost like having sex with an alien? totally different. The front doesn’t want to nod away, the brakes resist dosing, the wheels resist locking. The Bavarian owes the latter to ABS, the former to a patented front wheel suspension. The reason for the strange, abrupt application of the brakes is an electric brake booster, which, according to Motzki, is “about as sensitive as a small atom bomb.” You can get used to everything.
Also to the cardan reactions of BMW. And especially because of its surprising handiness. Because the 1150 R is the easiest of four to lead through curves and bends. Impressed with steering precision and neutrality. Even more. From a certain incline, it leans in by itself. And so harmoniously, as if it were part of your own body.
But every body is different. After just 80 kilometers, the BMW Motzki spat out of the saddle: The BMW is interactive. Boo had no feedback about the condition of the ground, had a trampling hindquarters and an uneventful engine that ?? compared to the muscled Yamaha ?? would be plagued by torque weaknesses. And woe to be rude to the throttle. That would hardly forgive her and completely upset her. In addition, braking is like switching off electricity on a Carrera track. Handsome Tom took it easy. Motorcycling is one thing. BMW drive the other. The four got into a snack bar. A ceiling fan spread the silence, the wall threw English letters into the room: My wife run away with my best friend. I miss him very much. The landlord was tainted with ketchup and so incredibly fat that it employed two smaller women in its orbit. Beer corks popped. Food jumped into the stomachs, the Triumph Speed ​​Triple from Atze Braun a short time later at the first push of a button.
The sound of the Triumph is aggressive. Growling like an annoyed dog, poisonous like a cat if you steal a Whiskas treat. Even the sitting position signals: attack. Streetfighting forever. The handlebars are wide and long for a firm grip. The pilot’s upper body protrudes just as coldly as the double headlights. The rest of the body is sucked in by the English triplet. Cheerio Miss Sophie. The engine enthusiastically greed for revs, delighted with performance, gave away the feeling of constant victories. Lift the front wheel on command, torpedo the load highly motivated into the next bend. The braking system is ideally suited to these storms: extremely stable, extremely easy to adjust and ingenious in its effect, it stands up to the exuberant motivation of the engine. Suitable for the chassis. It is emotionally very tight in the basic setup, fully adjustable, handy, accurate and stable. Robbing curves becomes a drug with the English rebel. She sucks in the radii as they come.
Bull Motzki liked everything. Except for drugs and spinach. He found intoxicants, like the triple, particularly shady. They stand up incredibly strong when braking and tend to hit the handlebars. In addition, there would be a lack of torque in the lower third and unrest in the chassis, which would be initiated by bumps over the wide 190 mm slippers. In addition, the circuit is bony.
Circuit? A lonely smile rattled the faces of Klinge, Atze and Tom. After all, they had moved Motzki’s Harley 400 kilometers. Technically, it didn’t win a flower pot over its bikes. She rebelled wherever she could. Didn’t give a damn about pulling power, acceleration, top speed. Required unconditional love from the pillion passenger, use of force when clutching and shifting, and an ambitious driving style. If you wanted to be on the move almost as quickly as your fellow competitors, the driver had to work. And properly. He had to compensate for a lack of steering precision, handiness, cornering stability and braking performance through corrections and physical fitness. But who wants to go fast with a Harley??
It is precisely this rebellion, the ignorance of social and technical norms, that makes riding a Harley so unique. Every startup process is an experience. The engine grooves in its thick rubber mount like a jet black rapper. The centrifugal mass massages below 3000 rpm, above 4500 it tingles vigorously, at 5500 the red area begins. Big Twin adventure world. Piston strokes as long as wheat beer glasses. Fittings, limited to the bare essentials. Components that want everything, just not save on weight. An underdamped chassis that allows the driver to participate in his adventures. A bike for real guys. This refutes the legend that cruisers would only be bought by those who couldn’t drive anyway in order to have an excuse.
D.In the afternoon he was just as close to his death as the four before Hamburg. Two cigarette lengths and a smoke-filled bar later, the door to Scherg’s office shattered. Bares thwarted calloused hands just as quickly as the four henchmen’s unknown plans. He exchanged plates for sippy cups, had azure eyes and was lucky again. But what was luck anyway? It is popularly known that if you share it, it doubles. All nonsense. Klingen-Karl says: If it leaves you, just follow it. No matter what. The main thing is to drive. If need be, in the next sunset.

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Comparative test of naked bikes: BMW R 1150 R Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport Triumph Speed ​​Triple Yamaha XJR 1300

Comparative test of naked bikes: BMW R 1150 R Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport Triumph Speed ​​Triple Yamaha XJR 1300
Cool and the gang

1st place – BMW R 1150 R.

The Bavarian is just as far removed from coolness as Stoiber is from solving the unemployment problem. She’s just a techno bike. Embodies less rebellion, but booked adventure. But the BMW shows one thing drastically: the touch of the dignified and the freshness of the future can easily and very successfully merge.

4th place – H.-D. Dyna Super Glide Sport

That rocks. Right from the start. And especially after that. The Dyna Super Glide Sport is a bike for men who don’t care about the points in the Flensburg list of sinners as well as in comparison tables. And the rest of the world especially. The fact that the Super Glide also runs and curves relatively fast is really great.

2nd place – Triumph Speed ​​Triple

Greed for power. Here she is breastfed. The seating position is worthy of a ruler, the engine as quick as an eccentric vamp. Driving Speed ​​Triple is pure waste of strength. Anyone who has always felt the great emptiness in their existence should be seduced by it. Risks and side effects not excluded.

3rd place – Yamaha XJR 1300

Rest from strength. Well-worn platitude? No. Could also be on the XJR 1300’s tank. She is the strong sister that you always missed as a boy. Delighted with torque and timeless elegance. A mix of the Monroe and the Weather Girls. A bike that real bikers want and always will want.

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