MV AGUSTA BRUTALE 910R
SAVAGE SWEETNESS
Words by Boris Mihailovic
Photos by Andrew McClymont and Mick Hodge
The MV Agusta Brutale 910R is not so much a motorcycle as it is a statement. A clenched, mailed gauntlet of a statement that exudes a powerful combo of anger, purpose and critical beauty. Its siren song is irresistible. Ride one and you'll submit to its evocative and refined savagery in spite of any cynical misgivings you might currently have.
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"... a powerful combo of anger, purpose and critical beauty." |
The 910R is MV's top-shelf Brutale. The "R" stands for "race" (and rightly so), while the "S" in its sister-model's designation (the 910S) stands for "sport". The differences between the two are not vast - but they are meaningful enough for a substantial price difference. The 910S weighs in at $23,490, but the 910R will belt you for $27,900.
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"It is angry and it wants you to know it." |
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"The brakes and handling package is as good as anything you can imagine." |
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If these amounts cause you to shake your head and shudder, you are obviously in the market for something else. If you are not fazed by the ticket price, the question you'll be asking is: Is the price difference worth it?
The answer is yes - especially if you're able to ride motorcycles with any kind of skill. Cos what you get for the extra $4410 is only gonna mean something to people who ride a hell of a lot harder and faster than I do.
I'm figuring most of you can work your way through a tech sheet, so rather than re-write it here for you, you can skip to the end of these sentences and see what you get for the extra dollars.
I'm gonna tell you what it's like to ride. I just hope I have the means to articulate it properly.
The first thing you notice when you throw your leg over it, is just how compact it is. It's not tiny (unless you're a six-and-a-half-foot tall Mick), but it is certainly a shitload of motorcycle crammed into a very diminutive package. That said, it's not remotely uncomfortable for the rider and offers you a useable and aggressive riding ergonomic. You don't like it? Fine - the footpegs are adjustable if you're some kind of freak of nature.
Hit the starter button and it doesn't so much crank over and start, as it does explode into snarling, growling life. It is angry and it wants you to know it. And it is angry ALL the time. Bottom-end, mid-range and up the top - it is a psychotic, antisocial, freak of a bike with supermodel good looks and the heart of a missile. Just how angry it is, is further revealed when you open the throttle and let out the clutch.
If you expect it to be all noise and no nuts, then you will shit yourself when you realize that the throttle doesn't need to be twisted as such - it just needs to be kinda squeezed. The clutch takes up less than a millimeter out from the bars (if you even bother using anywhere past first gear) and what happens after that is really all up to you. And the 910R is more than a match for even your wildest desires and aspirations. But be subtle and skilled in your applications, or pay the price and look like a fool.
The brakes and handling package is as good as anything you can imagine. It is not over-braked like the criminally powerful stoppers on the 1098 Ducati, but its four-piston, radially-mounted beasts clamped onto massive floating discs are straight off a superbike. They are phenomenal - offering feel and power rarely experienced on a production bike. The four-piston rear is also quite a revelation as far as back brakes are concerned. Good feel and power, without any of the woodeness so many rear-stoppers are cursed with.
Of course, it gets around corners (all kinds of corners) with the verve and panache of a true masterpiece. MV rightly hangs its hat on a reputation for handling, producing bikes that steer like some kind of racing sorcery. The 910R is most certainly one of the most precise and confidence-inspiring handlers I've had the privilege to ride, but what I'd forgotten since I rode Brother Silverback's well-sexy 750 a while back, was just how fast it steered. Once again, just like its clutch and throttle, subtlety and skill on your part will reward you with a bike you literally "think" into corners.
The suspension is endlessly adjustable at both ends, and while the 910R may skitter a little if corrugations meet it halfway through a tight bend (that you're going too fast in anyway), all you gotta do is trust it. It is better than you at this. The tyres certainly won't let you down - Pirelli Dragon Super Corsas are good like that. Bends indicated at 55km/h and over become these swooping exercises in precision and happiness. Bends indicated slower than that are brake, point and shoot experiences you'll want to have over and over - and not only because the front wheel keeps reaching for the sky in all of the bottom three gears.
That is because no matter how great the brakes and handling are, that incredible motor is the bike's true crowning glory. If you've only ever ridden Japanese fours, you need to ride an MV if only to experience another way an in-line four can be built. True fanatics will say that it is the ONLY way an in-line four should be built. I will say that Japanese in-line fours are glorious motors in their own right and everyone can enjoy them on different levels - which is their great success. But the MV's in-line four can only truly be enjoyed by people who like to ride like it actually means something. It is not a bike that a novice would appreciate or understand. It does not reward ham-fistedness, hesitation, doubt or fear. It is simply that special.
Most enticingly, it makes you feel special when you're riding it. The quality of finish, attention to detail and integration of design is astounding. The more and longer you look at it, the more you see. From the neatness of the welds, to the fang-shaped dash (which is echoed by the nigh-on useless mirrors), to the leather seat and tasteful applications of carbon-fibre, and a white paintjob that is a glory to God in its finish (I have never seen a better white paintjob on a bike. Even the showpiece customs I used to judge at bike shows don't come close to the quality of this work) - the 910R never lets you forget you're riding a very special bike.
I lived with the 910R for almost three weeks. I commuted on it, did some weekend stuff on it, and would occasionally sneak out of the house after midnight to howl at the moon on it. I never found its limitations or discovered any niggling faults. It is beyond me. Sure, the mirrors aren't the most helpful, but you see enough not to die. The pillion seat is a joke and demands you only ever take firm-bottomed size 8 girls for rides - and I'm not convinced that is any kind of fault.
At all times and in all situations, the 910R growled and howled and roared and delivered the goods. It made me feel great - even if I had no right to feel great. Its savage supernatural wail would stand the hair up on my neck, and I would saw through a gearbox (whose feel and precision would put Suzuki to shame) that truly delighted me, just for the hell of it. I would seek excuses to ride it, and was always happy to shoot down to the shop and buy the wife breadcrumbs/milk/onions/chocolate. This earned me more brownie points than my usual measured response to her requests.
The bike is altogether overwhelming to the senses. It pleases the eye and rewards the desire to ride hard, fast and pure like few others. It is exclusive, both by virtue of its price and its nature, and it is quite simply, the finest four-cylinder naked motorcycle you can buy.
Of course, you don't have to sell your kidneys to buy one. You can sell your children instead.
My gratitude to the Paul Feeney Group is hard-nippled and foamy. Whenever Ben Foster or Paul Feeney hands you the keys to one of these, they grin like madmen. They know all about MVs - and you're about to find out. Look, ring the bastards up and tell them you HAVE to ride one. Tell them I'll beat on you if they don't let you. Tell them children in Africa will die faster. Tell them anything, but have a go on one of their MVs. You may contact them here and blame it on me:
Paul Feeney Group - PO Box 2492 Nerang BC, QLD 4211 Phone 07 5596 9000 - Fax 07 5596 3336
Australian distributors of MV Agusta, Cagiva & Husqvarna motorcycles www.mvagusta.com.au - www.husqvarnamotorcycles.com.au - www.cagiva.com.au
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MICK'S SPRAY
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I had no idea MV did unicycles. Jesus Christ this thing is short... and small... and compact... and oh so bloody sexy.
Now many have heard the tirades of evil darkness that spews forth from the Hodge gob when it comes to Italian motorcycles beginning with 'D', and all around me are sick and tired of hearing "Why can't they make 'em like MV or Aprilia???" This is just another huge good bundle of small joyous loveliness from Mr Agusta.
It's small. Bloody small. The first time aboard it actually feels like the front wheel is between your feet, but it is so well put together, so awesomely stylish, so evocative...
This is without doubt the absolute dog's bollocks of a chick's bike that has ever been made. It oozes sex; it makes you want to lick it clean. You sit on it for no reason and giggle, you keep stroking it. It goes, stops and corners harder than a Lambo on slicks with a Leb at the wheel after a bank raid, and even mid corner and all committed you can change your mind and take a different line. It turns so fast in the corners it can be tipped in and turned on its back faster than a Kiwi can waylay Shaun.
The glorious intake bark of this 910 had me cracking the throttle for no other reason than audio pleasure, on the move.
However when given her head you could get bitten. I will now go on the record: this is the only bike I have come close to flipping in over 20 years of high speed tom foolery.
The front end is so bloody good that hard on the anchors it threw my feet off the pegs. Bloody marvellous. It's sassy, it fights back... I think we bonded. I think I love it, just a little bit.
Everything on this machine is top of the line and well thought out. It's a superbly organised and sexy combination of metal, rubber, plastic oil and water that just begs for more. Doggy style. And the order comes "Harder" and you obey.
Some Serbian poofter said it had a racing throttle but that was only below 5k and what wet headed nonce rides something like this down there?
If a good looking chick pulled up on one of these, in tight leathers you'd forget about a hard on and just dump your load.
I love it.
Do they come in a man size version?
