Group test EXTRA

QJMotor’s SRK921 is in the vanguard of new Chinese models promising fantastic features at great prices. But does it stack up against the existing best-of-the best – Triumph’s Street Triple RX?

By Simon Hargreaves Photography Chippy Wood

The SRK921 is a new big-bore naked inline four built by QJMotor. It makes a claimed 127bhp, costs £8999 on the road, and lands bang in the middle of a competitive class surrounded by numerous rivals, including benchmark class leaders like Triumph’s Street Triple 765 RX – which we’ve co-opted into providing a baseline against the SRK. So it’s a high bar. And as the first-ever Chinese sporty naked to land in Bike’s sweaty palms, the 921 poses many questions – chief among which is: ‘What’s it go like?’

The SRK921 is heavily based on MV Agusta’s largely forgotten budget Brutale 920 from 2011, for which QJMotor acquired the technology licence in a short-lived deal with MV in 2020. Bike tested the Brutale 920 in 2011 and it wasn’t particularly memorable – a slightly anonymous, top-endy naked making good horsepower but swapping the haughty, hard-assed recalcitrance of the posh Brutale 990R with softer, lower-quality suspension and conspicuously absent MV component quality.

But I recognise a distant memory as the SRK921 fires up into a fast 1500rpm idle. It’s not the offbeat gruftiness of the MV, but it sounds bass-beefy when you crack it at low rpm. I briefly wonder if the QJ has MV’s radial valves; I suspect, given expensive manufacturing tolerances, it hasn’t (I asked, but unlike established European and Japanese bike brands, there’s no simple way to find out). But the SRK shares the same capacity, bore and stroke, cylinder block and crankcase castings as the Brutale, even down
to replicating MV badge castings, minus the actual letters. And the inline four’s width between the knees; its steel trellis frame linking headstock to a central cast section; the wide, low, aggressive stance that has the faintest feeling you’re riding a bull; and the proximity of the rasping motor’s airbox to your ears are all somewhere I’ve been before.

The SRK’s riding position is big, bold and business-like, plonking its rider squarely on a slightly pitched, wide seat with yellow stitching highlights, locked arms reaching forward to low, wide, flat bars – it’s neither a handlebar nor clip-ons, but a single casting incorporating the top yoke, bar riser, bars and ignition barrel (recessed under the clocks and in front of the yoke nut) all in one. It looks cost effective.

The things bolted to it are nice – adjustable Marzocchi steering damper, Brembo radial brake and clutch master cylinders with sculpted levers, chunky bar end mirrors and a 5in TFT dash. Switchgear is conventional with solid up, down, enter and set buttons, a cruise control tab that feels as if it may snap in a breeze, and a dedicated traction control button – the Sport mode for this, but you have to stop to select it. Odd.

‘It’s heavily based on MV Agusta’s largely forgotten budget Brutale 920’

The things bolted to it are nice – adjustable Marzocchi steering damper, Brembo radial brake and clutch master cylinders with sculpted levers, chunky bar end mirrors and a 5in TFT dash. Switchgear is conventional with solid up, down, enter and set buttons, a cruise control tab that feels as if it may snap in a breeze, and a dedicated traction control button - SRK has a Bosch six-axis IMU, which presumably allows for lean-dependent traction control and cornering ABS. Cruise control is also present (but rolling the throttle grip forward doesn’t turn it off; you need to touch the brakes or clutch), and a tyre pressure monitor shows temperatures too (in 5pt font).

Promised heated seats and grips are absent – this is a preproduction bike – but a 1080p dashcam sits under the headlight, and the dash will Bluetooth into a full-map GPS via the appropriate phone app. Three preset-only rider modes are Sport, Normal and Rain, but you can’t flip between them while riding; it needs a menu dive at standstill.

Clicking smoothly into first gear without so much as clink, the SRK pulls away feeling active and punchy. The engine pops through gears with an excellent quickshifter, short-shifting across a bulge between 4000 and 6500rpm – which is right where you want it for punting about. Cruising at 80mph is a buzz-free 5500rpm, then the motor comes on cam at 7000rpm and runs away with a hard-edged revving, making horsepower in a classic, thrashy, arm-stretching inline four pile-on. On BSD Performance’s dyno, the SRK makes a true 122bhp at 11,200rpm (somewhat higher than the claimed 10,000rpm), but runs rich – over-fuelling explains the surging on and off on a steady throttle, especially noticeable trying to hold a steady cruising speed. It even hunts when cruise control is engaged.

Probably also explains the SRK’s poor economy; at a measured 34.4mpg, the 15.5-litre fuel tank has the reserve light on and gauge flashing at a mere 86 miles, and a 96-mile refuel takes 12.7 litres to top up – so there’s another 15 miles left to empty. But that’s thirsty. Andy at BSD reckons he’s seen Chinese parallel twins running this rich, and has made substantial horsepower gains and improved throttle response just by remapping.

Compared to the Street Triple, which gives away one cylinder, 156cc and 3bhp (we measured 119bhp on the dyno), the SRK feels as outright potent; the Triumph just has to rev harder. So where the SRK is making 65bhp at 6000rpm, the Street Triple doesn’t hit 65bhp until 7000rpm. But the Triumph has a thoroughly refined, linear power delivery, with no bumps or dips – any hunting or surging was tuned out long ago. It feels finished; the 921 is a good engine, but fuelling is a work in progress.

It’s the same story with the QJ’s chassis and handling. Specs are great – big, fully adjustable 50mm Marzocchi forks and Marzocchi shock, Brembo radial calipers, Pirelli Diablo Rosso 4 rubber. Is it worth noting the tyres have ‘Made in China’ stamped on the sidewalls? And with Brembo and Marzocchi having Chinese manufacturing plants, therefore possibly also being made there? On first use, no performance difference is detectable – braking is strong, grip is good and, once both ends have compression damping wound off to get suppleness in the movement and overcome fork stiction (the ignition key doubles perfectly as a damping adjuster tool), the ride quality and dynamic control balance are rather lovely (forget about getting a C-spanner on the rear shock – it looks like a shock-out job). And although the steel tube frame bolted to twin cast rear plates looks very similar to the Brutale frame, it’s not a direct copy; the frame sections, subframe and single-sided swingarm are substantially different.

Steering isn’t as direct or tarmac-hugging as the Triumph – both running a sporty-ish 51:49 front weight balance, the 921 turns a measured 227kg wet against the Street Triple’s fully fuelled 188kg; the SRK has nearly 40kg more ballast to pivot around the headstock, and you can feel it as you drag, rather than caress, the SRK on line. Its steering damper contributes to a rate of turn more suited to a sports-tourer – even on minimum, pull the 921 onto its sidestand and lift the front wheel off the ground, and it’s like it’s turning in treacle. But again, it shows a 15-year gulf in development – copy a 2011 bike, get 2011 weights (not surprisingly, the MV Brutale 920 weighed a comparative 225kg fully fuelled). Compared to the svelte, diminutive Street Triple, the SRK is a bigger lump to maul around.

From a mid-distance, the 921’s finishing is pretty good – but get too close and cut corners show up. Decals don’t look like they’d survive a rainstorm let alone a jet wash, why does it say
‘RAW’ in big letters on the tank, the exhaust-mounted retractable pillion pegs are a good idea but execution is clumsy, the milled alloy pegs are seriously awful, and a preponderance of plastic engine covers makes you wonder what they’re hiding – MV logos, perhaps?

When it comes to styling, the SRK makes the Street Triple look conservative. The biggest break from convention is the 921’s rear light; a large U-shaped rack of floatingdesign LEDs cup the seat unit, while twin high-level cans split the rear end and a pair of large scoops embrace the front end. It’s a very distinctive look – the whole styling job is adventurous, looking somehow futuristic and yet not totally tacky.

‘Good in parts, but a few rough edges conform to a Chinese bike stereotype’

On the dyno

» On paper, the QJMotor makes 127bhp and the Triumph 128bhp. But we don’t ride bits of paper, so we strapped both to a dyno and measured their performance at the rear tyre. The QJ matched up to its claim pretty closely, with 122bhp at the wheel – a crank-to-tyre loss of less than four per cent. The Triumph was only a smidge behind at 119bhp, trailing 1000rpm behind the QJ by virtue of its smaller capacity. While the QJ makes more power earlier in the revs, it also delivers that drive with much rougher, lumpier curves, and prefers to be over 7000rpm. The Triumph may look revvier, but it feels a more flexible, predictable engine on the road thanks to its smoother, more linear power and torque curves.

QJMOTO R SRK921

Price £8999

Engine 921cc DOHC 16v inline four

Power 122bhp @ 11,200rpm (measured)

Torque 64lb·ft @ 8900pm (measured)

Wheelbase 1425mm

Kerb weight 227kg (measured)

Seat height 835mm

Tank size 15.5 litres

Economy 34.4mg (measured)

Colours white/black, grey/black, red/black

Availability now

Bike verdict An admirable effort and good in parts, but a few rough edges conform to a Chinese bike stereotype. But, ironically, perhaps the SRK’s biggest problem is its price compared to the known quantity of Honda’s £9099 150bhp CB1000 Hornet.

Bike rating 7/10

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PHOTOGRAPHY AMY SHORE

The Yamaha RD350LC was brilliant in its day, but that was a very long time ago. Patrick Lyall has given his a superb modern makeover

For the generation who were taught the fine art of letting rip by caning a Yamaha RD350LC all over the place, the two-stroke hoodlum machine holds a special place in their hearts. But the poor old thing doesn’t really cut it in the modern era – the engine’s perky, but everything else is a bit crap. ‘That’s why I built this,’ explains Patrick Lyall, 59. ‘It’s like riding a modern bike, except noisier and funnier.’

‘I got a lot of advice from Nigel Kimber [of NK Racing, who has built some incredible YZR and RGV GP replicas – Ed] who told me what would and wouldn’t work. You can’t use massive forks, for example – ones from 600s are best, and mine are from a Kawasaki ZX-6R. Nigel machined some new yokes and grafted them onto the old headstock. I didn’t do any of the engineering myself – I was the project manager.’

Everything except the LC’s frame has either been modified or completely ditched. ‘The advantage of a hybrid bike like this is that you don’t need all the hard-to-find parts like you would for a restoration,’ Patrick tells Bike. ‘So arguably it’s easier to get something on the road than doing a standard restoration.’

That may be the case, but it still wasn’t a straightforward project. Take the swingarm… ‘Ah yes, you get people putting stupid swingarms in that are too big so the bikes never handle. The LC frame’s swingarm opening is only 200mm, so the best options are from little 400s – the NC29 [aka CBR400RR] and NC30 [VFR400R] which are the right size. I used an NC29 arm on this bike. A lot of people use the RGV swingarm, but I think they’re too long and ruin the proportions.

Patrick got the engine tuned by Ron Phillips from Fahron Engineering. ‘He’s a contemporary of Stan Stephens and does really nice porting,’ says Patrick. ‘His speciality is taking the sleeves out [ie, the cylinder liners] and replacing them with bigger ones to increase the capacity. Mine’s now up to 375cc. I think back in the day 250 racers went to him to, well, cheat. He’s a lovely old guy.’

‘It’s phenomenal. I’ve got a Fireblade, and the LC is just as fast in short bursts’

Patrick went for a relatively mild tune to make it more civilised to ride on the road. ‘It could have been taken up to 80bhp, but I wanted to enjoy riding it, so it’s now 65bhp. It’s still fast, because it weighs next to nothing. With big 32mm flatslide Mikuni carbs on, it sucks so much fuel I had to fit a high capacity fuel tap. It’s got the fuel economy of a Maserati.

‘And it’s phenomenal to ride. I’ve got a Fireblade, and the LC is just as fast in short bursts. It redlines at 13,000rpm and there’s no doubt that it’ll go bang one day – I’m waiting to get a strengthened crank fitted. And it sounds incredible. It screams. Those Jim Lomas pipes are superb.

‘It’s been hard work – it’s taken four years. I had a massive setback when the engine and swingarm were stolen from the back of my car. I was absolutely gutted. But I’m glad I persevered – when I ride it, it never fails to put a massive grin on my face.’

ENGINE
New cylinder liners (or sleeves) take the capacity of the two-stroke twin up to 375cc. Peak power is 65bhp (standard is 47bhp), but the light tune makes it road friendly

CHASSIS
Frame is standard RD350LC, forks are from a ZX-6R and the shock is a YSS item

WHEELS AND BRAKES
Wheels are from an Aprilia RS125, so Patrick can get sticky rubber. Brake discs and radial calipers are new from Brembo

EXHAUSTS
Made by Jim Lomas from mild steel, which performs better apparently. It does rust, though, so Patrick has lacquered it to save polishing time.

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Adventure

Fancy wild camping on the North Coast 500? You don’t need to wait for summer. You don’t need a high-tech tourer. You don’t even need a plan. Just head north and enjoy the ride…

Words and photography Ferdia Durkin

Some say February is a mad time to tour the Scottish Highlands. But camping along the way – what sane person would think of doing a thing like that? As it turns out, very little thought went into this trip beyond catching a ferry across the Irish Sea and borrowing my dad’s rain suit. Feeling like the Michelin Man beneath four layers and a heavy wax jacket, I can almost convince myself it’s warm as Edinburgh looks radiant in the early spring sunshine.

I strike for the Firth of Forth, new saddlebags and a Decathlon tent strapped across my Triumph Bonneville’s pillion seat. The Bonnie cruises at a comfortable 75mph, its 865cc twin humming along happily like a honeymooning couple as the sun trails off to our left and the sky blues ahead. Dark silhouettes beyond Perth loom shadowy and cold – is that snow on the slopes?

Unexpected Alpine experience

Excitement rises as the temperature plummets. There’s no home to turn around for, nothing that needs doing and nothing to be back for, so we ride into the night. I replaced the Bonnie’s stock halogen headlight with an LED years ago – a must for riding rural Irish roads in winter. But the cold is relentless. I don’t want it penetrating my bones before a night in the tent, so I pull into a marshy valley and pitch up by torchlight.

A gunshot splits the night and sends me out of my skin. A pick-up with a roof-mounted floodlight trundles along the path, hooves sticking out the back. I salute as it passes, blinded and hoping the unseen shooters had waved back. They don’t stop. I watch their tail lights disappear over the ridge. Silence returns, save for the Bonnie’s gentle ticking, engine cooling in the freezing air.

My first taste of haggis the following morning is a revelation, accompanied by coffee and eggs in a Dalwhinnie café. The owner suggests I ride to the Cairngorm Mountain Railway: ‘The most snow they’ve seen in 30 years,’ he reckons. Eager to leave the main road, the Bonnie streaks through the woods and around a lake shimmering like a fish in the morning sun. This is where the Triumph is happiest, gliding around curves and potholes, dancing between third and fourth gears as we climb above the snowline. The packed ice dribbles meltwater onto the asphalt; an unexpected Alpine experience.

But the road is short-lived, an access route more than a true pass – it ends in a car park by a stationary ski lift. I watch the mountaineers setting off beneath their packs, bent double against the wind like a Shackleton photograph. They ascend the slopes like ants, tiny and black against the white undulating wilderness. The romantic appeal of it is undeniable; to be free of rules and roads and the tutting tongues of the unadventurous.

The Bonneville isn’t a touring bike by design. It’s simply a motorcycle in its most fundamental form. It’s a blank canvas, which means it can become anything – including a convincing tourer if you forget such things as wind protection and luggage capacity exist. And where modern adventure bikes devour miles by the dozen, the Bonnie relishes every one. Mid-weight, simple and intuitive, I’ve heard it described as the bike that feels exactly like someone who’s never ridden a motorbike would imagine how riding a motorbike would feel. Wrap your head around that one.

It’s friendly but uncompromising: minimal electronics, no rider aids, no ABS. There’s no computer to interpret every hiccup and burble, to manage every shudder and slip – nothing between rider and road. I’m not a martyr for anti-modernity; at just 29 years and a day old I’m firmly a tech-gen rider. But few bikes offer the same presence, honesty and purity as riding a classic on country roads.

‘My excitement rises as the temperature plummets’

Dawn to dusk
North of Inverness I join the NC500, now firmly in my flow. Downshift, match revs, trail brake in, power out. The roads are similar in Ireland: narrow unpredictable affairs with occasional gravel or surprise streaks of slurry on blind bends. No doubt in summer months a few tourists are caught out here, too. As if on cue, I’m met around a bend by blue flashing lights where a lorry has smashed a new path off the road and down the woody embankment. Not only tourists, it seems.

The reminder is noted – these roads, though beautiful, are not to be underestimated. Across Munsary moor I spy white peaks in the west halfhazed by rain, and pray it’s only passing. The pasture boundary walls are intriguing: flagstones set on their sides like overlapping playing cards, striking out in thin grey lines.

After riding it all day the A9 ends in Thurso, somewhat unceremoniously at a Tesco at the top of the world. I potter down to Scrabster Harbour where a ferry crosses to the Orkneys twice a day. Tempting, but the fare is too expensive, and I’m instead drawn to the warmth and electricity of the Tesco café.

Phone charged, stomach fed and refuelled on coffee, I head east along the coast as dusk falls, pitching up on grassy bluffs above the seaweed and seals as the Orkney ferry sloshes out of Gills Bay. I watch it melt into the North Sea night.

Finally, the rain arrives. It was inevitable. I make the obligatory stop at John o’ Groats; I remember sitting with my dad in the mid-2000s, laptop whirring, watching Ewan and Charley leave from here for Cape Town on Long Way Down. Twenty years later I’m squinting around this empty car park in the driving rain with a grin on my face. How could anyone think this is mad? This is pure joy: riding dawn to dusk; heading wherever; stopping wherever; eating, sleeping and peeing wherever.

No, this isn’t madness. This is sanity. Relief even – a return to some fundamental innocence that feels light and present and full of childish curiosity about what could lie over the edge. The highland sheep know it, watching from behind the wire. They know once you’ve peeked over it becomes impossible not to jump, impossible to return to the flock. It’s written all over their wet black faces. Then again, you can read what you like on the face of a sheep…

Away from civilisation
The rain doesn’t stop. The road is deserted. Every few miles a livestock grill rattles me out of a daydream. The whole sky descends and distorts any sense of direction or perspective. I lose feeling in my fingers. Water pools between my legs with a strange floating sensation. Yet despite it all, I am content. For millions of people a few hundred miles south, the day progresses as any other weekday of traffic jams and ledgers. The civilised world; a world removed from here.

This is the only time to tour the north coast before the civilised world arrives and the narrow roads become plagued by pelotons of puffing cyclists and dawdling camper vans. Summer brings only the promise of traffic jams, breakdowns and crashes, and no guarantee of good weather. I find coffee in the first open shop since Thurso and stand in the doorway admiring the Bonnie, boreal and black, her chrome dulled and mud-splattered. For some it may be a shame to subject such a beautiful bike to the elements like this, but I think she looks her best out here.

And at the sight of this machine, dirty and dripping, I am filled with affection. Affection for its splendid form and character, for the journey we are sharing and, admittedly, for the fleeting relief every time it starts. Those lucky enough to ride long distance will attest to the bond between rider and machine formed over days in the saddle and nights shivering side by side. It’s something every rider should experience at least once.

I make Ullapool by nightfall. Having failed to find a place to pitch before dark I fork out £70 for a room, consoling myself with a steaming shower of operatic indulgence and thoughts of dry gear and dry roads by morning. And for a moment, I believe I have it. From my room with a view I’m greeted by snowy mountains striking indomitably skyward, tearing pale patches of blue in the clouds. Gulls cheer fishing vessels into the harbour, and best of all my gear is dry. I prime myself with haggis and eggs and hit the road.

‘A stunningly beautiful part of the world – even on a day like this’

More than home
The dream is short-lived. By lunchtime I take shelter in a Lochcarron café where the waitress smiles through her dismay at my dripping trail across the floor and discreetly removes the cushion from my chair. Soup, sandwich, coffee, but there’s no waiting this weather out. I head south, somehow even wetter than I was before. Coming from the west of Ireland I’m used to rotten weather, but even by our standards this is a particularly rotten day.

I’ve decided the Highlands are just like home but ‘more’. More impressive, more expansive and, on days like this, more miserable. Where I’m from, a cosy pub is never too far away; the remoteness and population sparsity that gives the Highlands its touristic appeal also means such refuges are few and far between.

Combined with the distance between villages and from any major transport hub, I suspect isolation and lack of access to facilities are also correspondingly ‘more’ here. There are certainly easier places to make a living. But for those who choose it, it isn’t difficult to see why. For even on a day like this – or perhaps because of it, with the mountains cloaked in clouds and the sea mist seeping up the inlets and around stony ruins by the water’s edge, creeping through the pines and across the road where it is momentarily parted by a passing Bonneville – it is a stunningly beautiful part of the world. It would be a disservice to observe it through a windshield. Far better to exist within it, wet, wild and ready for the world.

That said, I don’t even consider camping on my final night. I feel I’ve earned a beer and a bed. I take a hostel beneath Ben Nevis and overnight the landscape is transformed with the return of colour and sun. Finally the Highlands reveal themselves in all their glory. I have no regrets; I’m just grateful to have been given a glimpse of them.

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The July 2026 issue of Bike is packed full of surprises. We’ve brought together three extra-special sporty roadsters – Triumph’s new Street Triple 765 RX, KTM’s new 990 Duke R and Yamaha’s MT-09 SP – and found ourselves with an unexpected favourite. We set out to unearth 60 great-value PCP deals, only to stumble across a funky 100bhp roadster that costs less than £1 a day. And we’ve crossed the whole of Australia on the final leg of a round-the-world ride, discovering boulders that run between your wheels, a toilet that feels like a fancy hotel, and the secret that keeps you going when you’re almost out of stamina, willpower and fuel.

Elsewhere this issue we’ve got a full review on the most powerful Chinese motorcycle we’ve ever tested, learn what it takes to build a stunning RD350LC special, meet Chloe Jones as she kicks off her bid to become Britain’s next road racing world champion, ask our tame professor to dig into the green credentials of electric motorcycles, and step inside the secret room making some of the most advanced riding kit in the world. Find all this – and plenty more besides – only in the latest issue of Britain’s best-selling bike magazine.

The July issue of Bike is out now at all good newsagents, or why not subscribe and enjoy your first 3 issues for just £5!

First ride

BMW’s new F450GS is good, but it can’t crunch miles like its larger siblings

By Carl Stevens Photography BMW Motorrad

Although we love a big adventure bike here at Bike, a shedload of power, tech and a 30-litre tank aren’t all necessary for a brilliant mile-munching adventure machine. In fact, a host of incredible sub-500cc offerings are not only supremely capable on road and dirt, but also affordable, friendly and capable of tackling incredible trips with the poise of a machine twice their size. And BMW have finally joined the party (yes, we’re ignoring the previous G310GS) with their new F450GS.

Does it feel like an authentic GS?

Surprisingly, yes. It’s not just about that iconic silhouette either, as it has a high enough level of fit and finish to wear the GS logo with pride. It’s light (178kg ready to roll), but proportionally spot on, so there’s enough space for a slightly taller rider. The familiar switchgear and large TFT dash mimic the high-spec offerings on the bigger GS models, and there’s loads of tech including a six-axis IMU and a host of riding aids. Oh, and heated grips come as standard.

Where is it built?

The F450GS is made in India by TVS, who’ve been building small-cc bikes for BMW since 2013. They clearly know a thing or two about building bikes – they sold more than half a million machines in November 2025 alone. They’re building the Norton Atlas soon too.

Is it fun to ride?

Yes. It effortlessly flicks from side to side and is happy to be placed just about anywhere on the road, with minimal effort or input needed. It isn’t the most pliant over really brutal road surfaces, but for the most part it soaks up bumps and potholes reasonably well. The beefy Brembo caliper up front does a cracking job of stopping it, and that motor is more than happy to sit a gear or two high and still pull. It never feels laboured in the corners and has more than enough shove while offering a linear amount of poke, complemented by a quickshifter that has a positive feel when traversing the cogs.

Could you go touring on it?

You could, but it’s not the best tool for the job. It’s comfortable, fun and friendly for the most part, but the new 420cc motor isn’t best suited to motorway miles. It sits high up in the rev range at 70mph, and even on a short stint of A-road action it’s incredibly buzzy through the bars and pegs. Protection from the elements isn’t great, and there’s no cruise control – nor any option to add it as an official accessory.

Any good off-road?

It is, especially compared to a large-capacity adventure bike. It’s light, well balanced, and has enough suspension travel and ground clearance to tackle some dodgy terrain without much hassle. It’s not as sure-footed as some of the competition with a 21in front wheel and more hardcore off-road set-up (KTM 390 Adventure R, we’re looking at you), but it’s more than capable of tackling green lanes and technical trails with relative ease.

What’s this about a clever clutch?

Easy Ride Clutch is part of the Exclusive pack (£300) or standard on the Trophy model (£7760). You still get a clutch lever that works conventionally, but using it isn’t a requirement – shifts are taken care of via the quickshifter, while starting and stopping is operated by a centrifugal clutch system. It’s smooth enough to use without issue, and trusting it instantly feels natural. However, there is one slight oversight: no external handbrake means no way of locking the gearbox when parking on a steep incline. Come on, BMW.

SPECIFICATIONS

• Price from £6990 (£7760 as tested)

• Engine 420cc 8v DOHC parallel twin

• Power 47bhp

• Torque 32lb·ft

• Top speed 102mph (claimed)

• Rake/trail 26.1°/115mm

• Wheelbase 1465mm

• Kerb weight 178kg (claimed)

• Seat height 845mm

• Tank size 14 litres

• Economy 74mpg (claimed)

• Colours black, red, blue

• Availability Now

Bike verdict BMW’s F450GS is good, but not exceptional – which is a bit frustrating because it sits at the premium end of the A2 adventure category. It’s fun, friendly and easy to use, but just misses the mark when it comes to motorway action.

Bike rating 7/10

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From the archive

To celebrate British bikes hitting new heights, only one image would do… as Luke Brackenbury remembers

Photography Paul Bryant / Triumph

Bravery. Skill. Narcissism. Stupidity. Some of the qualities needed when there’s a chance to be on the cover of Bike and the required shot has an element of danger.

To punch the December 2005 issue out from the newsstands and illustrate a four-bike road test of a Triumph Speed Triple 1050 (so amazing), BMW K1200R (so planted), Yamaha MT-01 (so ahead of its time) and H-D Street Rod (so what), then-editor John Westlake wanted to recreate a jump photo seen in a French magazine. Then-24-year-old Luke leapt at the chance – literally.

Previous Speeds were ‘good’ and ‘fun’ (not to mention tall, overweight, wooden…) but the 1050 was bloody brilliant; that engine with its endless and effortless torque, the twin high-level exhausts piping the soundtrack closer to your ears. And of course it was followed by the Sprint, Daytona 675, Street Triple, etc.

We rode all four bikes at Millbrook Proving Ground’s intense Alpine Circuit test track, and took them to a wet trackday at Cadwell. Riding at Millbrook revealed I could jump the Speed Triple quite well, but for the photographer to be in the right place to get the shot he’d be in my flight path. Plus I don’t think we thought of it until the bike had gone back to Triumph…

Across the office, Performance Bikes had a 1050 on longterm test with Gary Inman. I got on with Gary, and he happily tossed me the keys. But I wasn’t totally honest about the shot I needed the bike for. We also needed to borrow their photographer.

From reconnaissance sorties, I knew our target bridge/hump; not too steep, away from a main road, lined with white picket fencing. Resplendent in a Davida Union Jack Jet helmet and with my borrowed bike and snapper, it was showtime. Except it wasn’t. Bad weather curtailed play for two days and time was ticking to get the shot in time. And Gary wanted his bike back.

Day three was it. I can’t remember why I wore sunglasses – it was overcast. ‘Faster! Higher! And don’t forget to smile,’ shouted the snapper. So I did. ‘Click, click, click’ was followed by ‘Shit, shit, SHIT!’; the Speed Triple bottomed out on landing and rebounded with such force it pointed us straight at a ditch. Somehow I got it stopped, checked we had the shot, then headed back to the office in muted jubilance. I handed the keys back to Gary, told him I’d filled it up, and thanked him for his patience.

The next morning he laid into me asking what I’d done to ‘his’ bike to stove in its downpipes. Whoops. But what a shot.

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[ NEW BIKES ]

New £130,000, 225bhp Ducati Superleggera V4 Centenario road bike may be utterly irrelevant, but ye gods the technology is impressive

By the time you read this, it’s likely all 500 of these £130,000 Superleggeras will have been sold to Ducati’s most favoured rich people, who will no doubt squirrel them away in their carpeted bunkers. A few of the 100 Tricolore versions may be left (yours for £173,000), but probably not. So, let’s accept we’ll never see a Centenario (Ducati is 100 in 2026) in the flesh and just revel in its technological genius…

Carbon-ceramic brakes

A road bike first, the Centenario has carbon-ceramic discs. The carbon fibre-reinforced ceramic compound means they’re 0.44kg lighter than an equivalent steel disc and reduce the moment of inertia (its resistance to speed up and slow down) by 39 per cent. Ducati say it makes the bike feel more agile tipping into corners.

Carbon forks

The Superleggera is the first road bike with pressurised Öhlins NPX 25/30 carbon forks. These are eight per cent lighter than the non-carbon ones and cavitate less under extreme use because the oil is pressurised.

Oversized WSB engine

Ducati say this is all-new, which is stretching things a bit – it’s more of a cunning merger of the 1103cc Panigale V4 bottom end and the top end from the wild Stradale V4R, which forms the basis of Ducati’s World Superbike race bikes. The result is, effectively, a 1103cc WSB engine that makes 225bhp in stock form (it passes Euro5+ for goodness sake) and churns out 244bhp when you put a race exhaust on it. By comparison, the V4R makes a piffling 215bhp in road form and 236bhp with a race exhaust.

Numerous clever tweaks improve performance – tungsten counterweights are used on the crank instead of steel to save weight; throttle bodies are up from 52mm to 56mm; and the variable inlet trumpets have been ditched to save even more weight. They’re replaced with different lengths ‘to improve flow’. We were baffled by this so asked Bike’s professor of engines Jamie Turner to explain:

‘This is likely because each cylinder will have slightly different scavenging. Because of the 70° pin offset in the crank the two cylinders in each bank do not have equal amounts of time between each firing event. This produces slightly different exhaust pulse travel times when they reflect from the first exhaust junction. Since the rarefaction (suction) versions of these waves need to arrive just as the exhaust valves are closing, they will interact with the intake waves, and these need to be tuned for their own specific conditions.’ Hence the different trumpet lengths. Clever.

Lots of dosh

If Ducati sell all 600 Centenarios, they’ll earn £82.3 million, which sounds a lot but is chicken feed for them (Ducati made £840 million revenue in 2024).

‘Depending on what recertification they had to do, and what durability they deemed necessary, that should easily cover development,’ says Prof Turner. ‘Tooling costs probably weren’t that high for the engine, after all…’ Kerching!

244BHP WITH RACE CAN

1103cc V4 with desmodromic titanium valves that makes 225bhp in road trim and 244bhp with a race pipe. More than 70 titanium bolts save almost a kilo over the Stradale V4R engine. Gearbox has neutral at the bottom.

MONSTER POWER-TO-WEIGHT

Wet, but without fuel, the Centenario weighs 173kg. With a race exhaust, it makes 244bhp. That equates to a power-to-weight ratio of 1.41 – a sniff higher than this year’s 1000bhp F1 cars. A MotoGP bike is 1.9 though…

STRUCTURAL CARBON

The front frame, swingarm, subframes and wheels are all made of carbon fibre. The swingarm is 21 per cent lighter than the aluminium alloy, but has ‘equivalent lateral and torsional stiffness values to ensure maximum grip out of corners’, say Ducati.

CARBON FORKS

Well, they have carbon tubes – a road bike first. The internals are pressurised Öhlins NPX 25/30 jobs.

REAR SHOCK

An Öhlins TTX36 GP with MotoGP-derived valves.

Head into stores to grab your latest issue, or why not subscribe to Bike Magazine and never miss an issue! What are you waiting for?

From the wide-open wilds of Western Australia to the claustrophobic chaos of Kolkata, the June 2026 issue of Bike celebrates the incredible breadth, depth and range of riding you can find across our fair planet. We’ve compiled a tasting menu of mouth-watering stories from more than a dozen countries. We’ve spoken to the Brit bikers who are out there now, exploring Earth on two wheels. We’ve tested Ducati’s new Multistrada V4 Rally and BMW’s R1300GS Adventure, two fully loaded flagship adventure tourers that promise to make the globe smaller than ever. And we’re continuing to follow the incredible round-the-world record ride that kicked off in last month’s issue.

If that lot isn’t epic enough, this month we’ve also gone behind the scenes at Norton’s Solihull factory as they prepare to build the all-new Manx R superbike. We’ve learned the secrets of 24-hour racing success from former endurance champ Dan Linfoot. And we’ve had our first taste of Kawasaki’s KLE500, BMW’s F450GS and Honda’s WN7. All this and more, only in the latest issue of Britain’s best-selling bike magazine

The June issue of Bike is out now at all good newsagents, or why not subscribe and enjoy your first 3 issues for just £5!