Cycle World Test

Mutha Goose!

August 1 2002 Brian Catterson
Cycle World Test
Mutha Goose!
August 1 2002 Brian Catterson

MUTHA GOOSE!

CYCLE WORLD TEST

Moto Guzzi V11 Sport Scura

BRIAN CATTERSON

THE FIRST THING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT the latest version of Moto Guzzi’s V11 Sport is that it’s not called the “Senna,” though eyeballing the stylized script on the silver seat cowl, you could be forgiven for thinking so. What it is called is the “Scura,” an Italian word the meaning of which took some deciphering. I asked a few folks who should have known and got confused answers, and the first time I typed “Scura” into an Internet translation program, it replied, “No matches found.” Funny, I got the same response from an online dating service! But I finally found a site that suggested it means, “It darkens.”

Should have known, really, because the main difference between the Scura and the 2002 VI1 Sport Naked it’s based on is indeed its black paint and carbon-fiber parts. Though the Ducati Monster Dark influence is apparent, the Scura actually appears more menacing, thanks to its muscular black-painted engine with ribbed cases and finned cylinders jutting out into the windstream. Guzzis have always been lean and puiposeful looking, if a bit industrial, and the Scura is the ultimate expression of the art.

It darkens, indeed. But it also brightens, because there’s another color that gets your attention, and that’s the color of money, as in the gold-anodized Öhlins fork with titanium nitride-coated sliders. In fact, the Scura sports Öhlins all around, with the trademark yellowsprung shock and a steering damper mounted crossways behind the bottom triple-clamp. Sold individually, these components would add up to around $3500, which alone would justify the Scura’s $1700 price hike, never mind what all the carbon-fiber parts might cost.

So, the Scura looks great in its black-and-silver-withgold-trim color scheme, and it’s got some high-dollar suspension components. Is it that much better than a standard VI1 Sport, Naked or otherwise? The answer is yes and no. Yes, in that it offers all the essential goodness of its brethren, enhanced by the aura of specialedition exclusivity-just 60 examples will be imported. And no, in that the Swedish suspension doesn’t quite live up to its reputation, at least in stock trim.

While the Scura rides nicely on smooth roads, one pass down a bumpy backroad will leave you feeling like you’ve just finished a 30-minute moto. “Funny how that works,” cracked one office wise-ass, but the truth is, the suspension does a great job of controlling chassis pitch under braking and acceleration, the latter assisted by the above-swingarm torque arm that cancels out the herkyjerky characteristic of shaft-drive bikes. With the spring preload and rebound damping dialed-in, there's no bar wagging, nor any of that bouncing-up-and-down-onyour-tiptoes sensation that you get when the settings are just wrong.

So on a smooth road-say, California State Route 154 on the way to Sonomafest at Sears Point Raceway, to which I rode the Scura-you can’t help thinking how nice the suspension is. Then you turn onto infamous Foxen Canyon Road, and your overriding impression is how truly awful the suspension feels!

Having experienced this same sort of Jeckyl-and-Hyde behavior from the Le Mans we tested in our October, 2001, issue, I assumed the Scura’s Öhlins suspension would offer an antidote. Well, you know what they say about assuming.. . Adjusting the suspension turned out to be problematic, because the underseat toolkit doesn’t include a 3mm Allen wrench to fit the fork’s damping adjusters, nor a 17mm wrench to fit the fork’s spring-preload adjusters-nice pair of pliers, though! And while the thumbwheels on the shock body and reservoir made damping adjustments simple, there was no way to get the included spanner on the springpreload collar with the shock attached to the bike.

Fortunately, I found the wrenches I needed on accompanying bikes, and adopted the old hammer-and-punch method for the preload collar. And while I managed to get the fork tuned to my liking, the shock still had a surfeit of compression damping, even with the adjuster set on minimum.

Whereas Moto Guzzi only let us have the Le Mans for a few days, this time around they let us keep the Scura for more than a month, and so I resolved to find a cure. Upon returning from my 1200-mile round trip, I removed the shock from the bike (no easy task, as the seat, fuel tank and airbox have to come off first) and took it to Pettersson Pro Suspension (4091 E. La Palma #L, Anaheim, CA 92807; 714/630-4777; www.ppsracing.com), which specializes in servicing Öhlins suspension components. There, owner Stig Pettersson dismantled the shock and changed the shim stack, reducing compression damping by approximately 5 percent. That doesn’t sound like much, but as Stig warned, it makes a big difference. And the Scura did indeed ride much better after the $125 surgery. But it’s still not on par with contemporary sportbikes, owing to its short swingarm (just 15.75 inches from pivot to axle, compared to 20 inches for the Honda VTR1000 Super Hawk conveniently parked beside it) and old-fashioned cantilever design. Hopefully, Guzzi will spend some of new owner Aprilia’s money and develop a modem linkage-style rear suspension. And soon.

Because aside from that, the Scura is a wonderfully refined motorcycle. Like the Le Mans introduced last year, it features a new frame, the steering head of which was moved forward 3/4 of an inch for enhanced high-speed stability, plus a wider subframe and swingarm that allowed the fitment of a 5.5-inchwide rear wheel shod with a 180mm tire. Rolling on Bridgestone BT020 radiais, the Scura offers crisp, neutral steering, even under braking. And with Brembos all around, it stops like a carrier jet on an arresting wire. Cornering clearance is ample for street riding; only track riders and magazine photo-model loons will touch down the kickstand on the left and the leading edge of the carbon-fiber muffler on the right.

Speaking of which, pay no attention to the man in the photos. Because while it is evidently possible to wheelie the Scura, it is not easily done, and photo models only have to look good for V500th of a second anyway. Assistant Editor Mark Cemicky said the trick was hanging way off the left side of the bike before popping the clutch, which counteracts the bike’s tendency to roll right under power. Don’t try this at home.

That said, as is the case with BMW Boxers, you’re hardly bothered by the longitudinal crankshaft in ordinary riding. It’s only when you romp on the throttle or abruptly back off that you notice some funky monkey-motion between your knees.

What you do notice, especially when starting from a standstill, is the abrupt engagement of the hydraulically actuated single-plate dry clutch, which while better than the previous two-plate unit, still feels a bit on/off compared to other bikes. But on a positive note, the six-speed tranny shifts superbly, and we like the fact that the lever moves freely once you’ve engaged sixth, so there’s never any doubt you're in top gear. The engine is the same air-cooled, pushrod, 90-degree V-Twin that’s powered Guzzis since the 1960s, now fuel-injected and wmBL - bored-and-stroked to displace 1064cc. It turns over slowly, but once running feels more like a slice of an American V-Eight than any other ! bike out there, H-Ds included. I Aside from the occasional hiccup under acceleration, the fuelinjection is spot-on, with the ► motor from just making above usable idle, and torque the meat of its power residing in the narrow range between 6000 rpm and the 8000-rpm redline. On the CW dyno, our testbike churned out 76 horsepower and 63 foot-pounds of torque, both comparable to the Le Mans we last tested, as was its low-12-second quartermile time and 134-mph top speed.

With the same bar/seat/peg relationship as the Le Mans, the Scura is all-day comfortable, though the saddle starts to wear thin near the end of a 600-mile day-particularly if you’re wearing a 20-pound backpack like I was en route to Sears Point. The bars don’t buzz as badly as did those of our long-term V11 Sport in stock trim (see accompanying story), but they still tingle enough to make the images in the mirrors fuzzy. And while the bikini fairing looks small, it does a surprisingly good job of deflecting air away from your torso.

In the end, the Scura is a nice, usable, versatile V-Twin that, aside from flawed rear suspension settings, is far friendlier than it appears.

As badass as it looks, it would have to be! H

M-G V11 SPORT SCURA