MV Agusta F3

I’ve just had a brief and fiery affair with an Italian. She was (relatively)expensive, exclusive and temperamental; stunningly beautiful and, in the right hands, would perform faultlessly. The affair only lasted a few days; mere hours, but now that she has gone, I know that life will never be quite the same again. I will never look at another bike with quite the same yearning as long as she exists in my memory.

 

‘She’, of course, is the new MV Agusta F3 675. In all my years of riding motorbikes, I don’t think I have ever come across a bike that I wanted to own so much but that I knew would break my heart in the blink of an eye and would follow that up by breaking the rest of me. It’s not that it is dangerous in any way, but its abilities make it so aloof and proud - as any good Italian machine should be - that it would sneer at my ineptitude and clumsy handling and probably just refuse to start.

It is in every sense like a thoroughbred horse; not something that just anyone can mount and ride perfectly straight off. No, you have to work at this one to get the best out of it; you have to learn its idiosyncrasies and work around and with them. Get it right and it is the most rewarding experience – get it wrong and it will rebel against you and, in all likelihood, go off in a sulk.

What is it about Italian machines that provoke this sort of reaction? Actually, let’s be more accurate; what is it about MV Agusta that provokes this reaction? They have always been out of reach to mere mortals and have carried an impenetrable air of mystique. They are, after all, just a collection of different metals, nuts and bolts and plastics but there is that indefinable something about them that lifts them above other motorcycles.

Motorcycling is an emotional business. We buy bikes based purely on heart rather than entertaining what the head says. Of course it all comes down to personal preference but, in general there are some bikes that make the heart beat a little faster than others, no matter what your riding preference. We buy motorcycles because of what they make us feel - ‘cars transport the body; motorbikes transport the soul.’

 

Such a bike is the MV F3. I used to own an early 350cc MV, many years’ back and, even then, the name was something magic. Of course that bike was a long way from the amazingly exotic and expensive 750S America but it just had that indefinable something that all Italian machinery seems to possess. It was a relief to see that, with their return to motorcycle manufacture, MV didn’t lose the ability to amaze.

I was first given the chance to ride the F3 in the middle of Pretoria. The sick and twisted mind that dreamt up this was in front of me in a car whilst his cameraman filmed me from the back of the bakkie. I was there to film the bike for the Bike Show and it wasn’t pleasant. The bike was getting hot and so was I with the hot air vented right into the thigh area. Sweaty bollocks time!

The fuelling at low speed was terrible and you needed a fistful of throttle and slipped clutch to get off the line. Once moving, the throttle was like a light switch at town speeds, with the result that progress was not the smoothest. Like any performance bike, town riding was a series of violent accelerations followed immediately by hard braking.

But on the MV that didn’t matter as the sound was just incredible (any exhaust system that looks this good just has to sound brilliant). The engine may share architecture with the Triumph triple, but the layout is as far as the similarities go. This is like a Triumph engine on steroids; snarling, biting; it barks, it grumbles and finally it shrieks, all with a brutally hard edge to it. In the old days they used to say it sounded like the tearing of calico (a type of cotton cloth). Now I’ve never heard tearing calico, but if this is what it sounds like, then I’m off to buy some and rip it up!

Then I had the chance to get out onto the open road and it started making a bit more sense; it just wanted to clear its throat and let rip. And boy, when it lets rip, it goes. Maybe it’s the sound that does it more than anything but it certainly doesn’t hang around.

Esteemed colleagues who had the chance to take it round a track said the handling was simply brilliant. On the road there was no chance to verify that, but what you can say is that the ride is pretty unforgiving and the seat might as well be made from a plank of wood for all the give it has.

I had been riding the Suzuki GSX-R1000 up to that point and thought that it was pretty hard and focussed but when I climbed back onto it to ride back from Pretoria to Jo’burg, it was like riding a big, soft couch.

But, I love the fact that it takes a little concentration to ride; it’s refreshing to get on a bike that needs thought and effort and not be so perfectly docile that anyone can ride it. Because it makes no bones about what it is – a thinly disguised track bike - you can forgive it everything and, to the experienced rider with ability in spades, it would be more rewarding than a night with Pamela Anderson.

Look, the thing is flawed; I’ve spoken already about most of the problems and to add to that, the switchgear looks like it came from a discount electrical store. But none of that matters; it’s an MV and that’s enough to make you forgive it everything.

Ah, yes, I hear you say; but it must cost a fortune. Well, actually no! It’s only about 10-15% more than its rivals and when you look at what you get – exclusivity, looks, amazing chassis, full electronics package, sound and that name - it’s a bargain.

How can I convey my feelings about this bike; even though I will never be able to extract more than a few per cent of its abilities I would have it over any other bike I have ridden. So what if it’s even more impractical than an already ridiculous sports bike? As an exercise in making you look the other way, blind to its faults, this is damn near unbeatable.

The point about this bike is not how fast it is or how amazing round a track; it is all about how it makes you feel; the emotions it stirs. They are so strong that I would find it impossible to resist if I was in the market for a middleweight bike.

Even if it was flawed in the dynamics department, even if it wasn’t that fast (which, let’s face it is pretty academic unless you are trying to win races) it wouldn’t matter. It’s an MV Agusta and there is nothing finer in life than that.