HUSKASAURUS REX

Words by Boris Mihailovic and Mick Hodge

Photography by Andrew McClymont

...an act of high genius

"It tips into bends with an eagerness..."

"...and it accelerates like a right angry bastard..."

"You wanna kill the streets... buy a supermotard"

"It handles with such precision... it will scare you"

50mm forks, 320mm Brembo floater

The best way to arrive at a superb Supermotard package is to start with a superb base model. And few dirt-chucking monsters approach "superb" with more determination than Husqvarna's mighty 510.

Regular readers will recall that the Supreme Riding Soviet was granted time with this all-encompassing dirtmeister last year, when we took it and its little brother 250 (and a few other tasty trailies) to Binacrombi for the weekend.

The general consensus among those who knew these things was that the Husqvarna 510 was a great bit of kit, with a powerful, responsive gronk of a motor, top-shelf suspension and a finish and style that set new standards in sexy trail bikes. And, if you were a total dirt wombat like me, it could be ridden gently (read that as "like a screeching poove") and evince no malicious desire to stomp your guts into the dust.

Turning such a beast into a Supermotard is unquestionably an act of high genius. Behold the Husqavarna SM510R.

When the kind and sensual folks from Paul Feeney's Bikertorium & Man-Fun Fun-Parlour called me and asked me if I would be interested in riding one for a few weeks, I thought they had been eating dangerous fungi. I have told many people my views of Supermotards ? provided you are on the front wheel, the back wheel, or going sideways, they are the sun and the moon and the stars. The rest of the time, they are trail bikes with insane road tyres and a chore to ride for anyone over the age of consent.

Giving me what for all intents and purposes is the Lizard King of all Supermotards (look at the specs, for pity's sake!) is a bit like giving mental patients high-powered handguns and then scaring them with loud noises.

But it's not like I was gonna say no.

So one afternoon, I found the SM510R waiting for me in the office garage.

I searched for an ignition key, realised it doesn't have one, thumbed the starter button and clambered aboard the leggy thumper.

It idled at me with restrained menace, a rumbling burble that spun into an instant bark when I tweaked the throttle and headed into traffic.

I'm not gonna bitch about the seat. Rider comfort is something alien to supermotards and their base bikes. You want comfort, buy a Goldwing. You wanna kill the streets, hoik lunatic monos and generally act like a menace to society, a disgrace to your church and an affront to all mankind ? buy a supermotard.

It tips into bends with an eagerness that will frighten the jizz out of you and boasts brakes the envy of many roadbikes ? and yes, of course you need a 320mm radial floating Brembo up front and a 240mm version up the back. It weighs about 135kg with all its juices uploaded and it accelerates like a right angry bastard from 30km/h all the way through to a ludicrous top-end of about 170km/h ? so bunging on major brakes like these is a wise call.

But it also lashes out of corners with such alacrity (hit it hard in third at 2500rpm and see Jesus enthroned in Heaven) the front wheel flings itself into the sky before you can blink.

That motor impressed all of us at Binacrombi and in its re-jigged street form it's a torque beast. The 41mm Keihin carby (yep, no fuel injection here), titanium valves and twin overhead cams give it a sweet spot at about 100km/h, but that big thudding motor never lets you forget what you're riding ? and will vibrate you into a padded cell if you keep banging it over 120km/h.

It's also happy to change gears without a clutch, but it does insist you pay attention to your changes, cos the motocross gearlever can be a lottery in street boots.

Is it thirsty?

If you're being a menace to society, yes ? you'll run the 9.2lt tank dry not much over 135km when you get medieval on it.

The control this bike offers you at times like that is uncanny. You get physical on it (and you will just to keep the front wheel down) and it will reward you with precision in turns that will have you shaking your head in wonder. The steering angle is steep and this makes it turn faster than a whipcrack.

The suspension is firmer than the dirt version, but still miles away from sportsbike firmness and offers a gentle, competent way of dealing with our roads. It's also adjustable every which way, so you can very much go your own way there.

Instruments? Yeah ? somewhere under the cables that snake across them. About the size of a cigarette packet, it has the blinkers, headlight, high beam and neutral and there's a small LCD display which deals with speed, odometer, a clock and two trip meters. There's also this crazy vertical segmented bar thingo there that's meant to be a tacho of sorts, but I knew at any given time what the motor was doing just by riding it and ignored it.

The headlight's crap, but you won't care cos you won't be touring on it at night.

Everything else is simply captivating.

It looks mean and purposeful. It sounds great. It handles with such precision and? well, alacrity, it will scare you ? and it goes like rocket for supermotard. It costs $12,995 and comes with a 24-month warranty.

I just wish I discovered them when I was younger, stronger and crazier than I am now.

The stout men at Paul Feeney can help you touch one. Phone 07 5596 9000.