Bare Naked Ladies: Tuono, Super Duke, Brutale & Speed Triple

We are only about 20 miles into France and things aren't going well. Three naked bikes are slip-streaming each other down the dual carriageway with about a foot separating their wheels.

Every now and then point man Daryll tucks in an elbow to check in his mirror that Alex is still tucked in behind, which sets off a chain reaction as Alex raises his elbow tosee if I'm still behind him. I just keep trying to make myself as small as possible. Aerodynamics are the key when you are running on vapours. And mirrors on naked bikes are no use whatsoever.

Rolling off the ferry in Calais we knew that the bikes would need some fuel - it had been about 90 miles since we last filled them up. Not a problem, we thought, there must be a fuel stop fairly soon on the route to Antwerp. That was 20 miles ago. The Triumph's fuel light had come on almost as soon as we left the port, the MV followed suit five miles later and so did the Aprilia. Oh well, at least the weather was good.Tucked in behind Alex I have a thought. If his bike does, as is looking increasingly likely with every passing tenth of a mile, run out of gas I'm going to run straight into his rear wheel when it has its first dry tank hiccup. I back off a few feet and plan how to push the Triumph when the inevitable happens.

Just as I've decided I could sacrifice a bit of boot rubber by putting my sole against one of the Triumph's underseat pipes and shoving it, there is a fuel sign. We still have 25km to go. Mental arithmetic works out that's about 15 miles. But 35 miles on reserve? That's pushing it, probably literally.But we make it, albeit at a snail's pace. As the Triumph rolls into the petrol station a very relieved Alex puts 17.5 litres into the 18-litre tank. We decide for the rest of the journey to start looking for fuel when the trips hit 90 miles.

With nearly 500 miles to cover that day we could have done without this slight setback, but any road trip always has minor delays. And this wasn't even the first of the day. Bizarrely, our first was caused by the weather in Australia. James was doing his commentary overnight for the World Superbike races, but the rain-delayed second race meant he was forced to catch a later ferry, along with snapper Oli. For safety's sake (he hadn't slept all night) we put him, and the KTM, in Oli's van. Oh, and did I mention the lazy, militant, sheep burning, striking French ferry port workers?Bikes fuelled and we were back on our way. With these bikes needing filling regularly the journey to Hamburg was split into bite-sized sections, a blessing on an unfaired bike. "That seat is so hard on the Triumph," reckoned Alex, "I've done 500km off-road in a day on the Dakar, so my arse is virtually made of leather, but this hurts!"

Riding the MV I was also starting to feel the strain, but not as bad as Alex. The nice thing about the MV is that the seat feels like it has been sculpted to your bum. The bike itself may be tiny and toy-like when you sit on it, but it's not that uncomfortable and the wind blast isn't too bad.We decided that sticking below 100mph was the key. Hurricane-force headwinds aside 90mph is fine, 95mph is starting to get uncomfortable and anything over that is plain murder.

Feeling slightly sorry for Alex, not to mention wanting a go on the Trumpet, I volunteered to swap the MV with him for the next leg of the journey.

Cruising along on the Triumph is a comforting sensation. Personally I didn't find the seat that hard, probably something to do with having more arse padding than Alex due to a training regime more dedicated to decadence than Dakar, but it's the motor that comforts the mind and body. The 1050cc triple has such a smooth and wide spread of torque that overtaking is simply a matter of winding on the power and listening to the deep burble from the twin pipes increase in noise and intensity. It's the best motor Triumph has made and retains the old machine's character while improving on the simple practicalities, such as a smooth gearbox and excellent fuel injection.

"There is no way this bike has any baffles in it," said Alex at the next fuel stop, peering into the MV's twin stacked pipes. It really does sound amazing, with a scream that begs to be thrashed. And it needs to be; compared to the Triumph it lacks any bottom end. "I rode an F4 once," he continued, "which couldn't pull the cock off a chocolate mouse, and this feels stronger. It's lower gearing I guess, but it is still lacking grunt."It's a problem the MV is stuck with. While the competition uses 1000cc and more, the MV is only a 750cc, which is why it needs to be revved and is lacking at the bottom end. A bigger engine is on the cards (see news) but for the time it is hampered. It needs to be revved, and it is still fast enough once going, it just lacks some much-needed torque.But do these bikes need big engines? Let's be honest, not many riders are going to take their naked bike on a touring holiday. These are fashion bikes, designed to look good, handle the back roads and pose on the high streets, which is where the MV rules.

Over a sarnie we looked at the bikes parked up. "That MV really is stunning," opined Daryll. "The finish is excellent, the attention to detail superb and everything about it is just right. Look at it next to the Triumph. Okay, it costs a bit more but it's a class above, every component is top drawer.""True, but the Triumph is a looker," reckoned Alex. "I remember the first Speed Triple. It looked so aggressive and mean, I just wanted to ride it. Which is what this one reminds me of. Having said that the old one handled terribly, I rode 100 yards and pulled over thinking I had a flat." Luckily Triumph haven't copied that bit."It looks good from a distance, but get close and you see the faults," said Daryll. "Closer than three metres you notice the shit quality of the bolts, suspension linkages and stuff like that. This bike is brand new but it already has furred bits."

There is no denying that some parts of the Speed Triple are lacking in quality, but I think Daryll was perhaps being a bit harsh. The build quality isn't up to, say, Honda's standards, but Triumph isn't as big as Honda. Triumphs are something different to your average run-of-the-mill bike, they are made in smaller numbers by a smaller manufacturer yet still cost the same, so there have to be sacrifices. And at least the factory has made some effort with the styling, which is more than can be said for Aprilia with the Tuono.

The Tuono has a 'like it or loathe it' look. Aprilia hasn't really put too much thought into the Tuono's styling, and has simply ripped a fairing off a sportsbike, fitted flat bars and then covered over the ugly bits on the engine with cheap carbon fibre panels. While the other bikes have a stylish, sculptured look about them, the Tuono is raw and backstreet. It's a true street fighter in the purest sense.Which is exactly how it rides. Swapping from the Triumph to the Tuono the difference in size is staggering. The old style RSV, which the Tuono is based on, was always big for a superbike, but in naked form as the Tuono it feels absolutely enormous, especially alongside the Brutale. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

No wonder Daryll was keeping quiet when it came to changing bikes earlier in the day - the Tuono is easily the best when it comes to covering distance. It is still hampered by a small tank range but the small front fairing is surprisingly effective, and because it's bigger the riding position is good for 100 miles even at just over 100mph. The engine lacks the refinement and smoothness of the Triumph's triple, and to be truthful is fairly rough and agricultural, but it sure is strong. Aprilia didn't feel the need to change the motor at all from the RSV when it created the Tuono, so what you get is a fully-fledged sportsbike lump, and that has bonuses and drawbacks. The bonuses are it is fast and powerful, the drawbacks are that not only is it rough, but the clutch is heavy, it vibrates a lot and the gearchange is stiff. Aprilia sorted out most of these problems with the new, updated motor in the new RSV-R, but unfortunately this engine has yet to make it to the Tuono range. Progress hasn't caught up with it yet. Like the Reeperbahn.Alex described it as 'Blackpool without the irony,' which just about sums it up. Riding up the street at night is a trip into the dark side. Neon signs illuminate peep shows offering practices that even we hadn't heard of, stores stacked with more porn than you can swing a day-glo dildo at and bars with outdoor seating so you can watch the collection of strange characters this environment attracts go by. It's not as seedy as Amsterdam, but still has its fair share of drug addicts and weirdos, although in a regimented Germanic fashion. We even saw a school party being taken around, when all the shows were open! German education at its best. Unsurprisingly we were all fairly knackered after 500 miles, so a quick Mexican (of the food variety) and off to bed.

The next day, and with Whitham recovered, we headed outside Hamburg to use these bikes for what they were intended - riding like idiots on twisty roads.Off the dual carriageways every bike came into its own, and with Whitham now back in action the KTM was also released from the back of the van. Anyone who has ever seen James on a bike will be aware of one thing: he is a complete hooligan, so giving him the KTM was asking for trouble."This thing is fookin' mint," was his comment after what must have been his tenth wheelie in less than two miles. "What a great stunt bike, all the weight is so far forward, really front endy, so it pulls massive stoppies really easily. Handles good too, all on t'front wheel, you just have to have the confidence it will grip, which it does."

Just looking at the Super Duke you can see its front-end bias. There's virtually nothing to it behind the foot pegs, except for a wheel and swingarm, obviously. This bias makes it like a big supermoto to ride."It looks great too," said a clearly over- excited James. "The clocks are crap, the same as every other KTM, but it's really well built and the brakes are stunning. I love the engine, it doesn't feel like a twin, it's almost too smooth, and the sound is tremendous. It's odd low down though."

Both Alex and myself commuted on the KTM before we left for Germany and we also spotted a fuelling glitch. Low down, the KTM's fuel injection isn't right. It only happens at very low revs, on small throttle openings, but it doesn't pick up correctly."If this thing had carbs I'd have it," summed up Alex. "The injection isn't right. It's a fun bike, brilliant to ride and has good handling, but if only it had carbs.""Yeah, but you'd have one in your garage wouldn't you?" said a smitten Whitham, before we enticed him off it and onto the Triumph - a bit of a struggle as at first sight he'd taken an instant dislike to it."It looks cheap, like the designers have had a sneak around the factory and pinched parts to bolt onto a bike. Look at the bars, this bike needs Renthals, in gold. Not those thin, chrome things," he moaned.But I had a feeling that a ride would soon change James' mind. And I was right.

"It's good is this," said an excited James. "Great handling and the engine is smooth enough to live with, but it still has a bit of a rough, exciting character. I didn't want to like it, but I'm converted, the more you ride it the better it gets."Which is the opposite of the MV. The more you ride the Brutale the more you wish it had a bigger motor. It is so nearly there; from every angle it looks stunning, to ride it sounds amazing but it needs more oomph. James summed it up perfectly: "These bikes need a dedicated engine with loads of instant torque, not a sportsbike hand-me-down."Which is the problem with both the Tuono and the MV. The Brutale simple needs more grunt - just down-gearing it really isn't enough - while the Tuono has a good engine, but its delivery is a bit rough."The Tuono is a good all-rounder," said James. "It's easily the most comfortable, can still be encouraged to misbehave and handles well, but I don't get on with the motor. It's too rough and ready."

After a night out on the Reeperbahn it was time to think about heading home, although not before Alex had quenched his desire for fire with a flaming burnout on the Triumph. We left a few confused Germans wondering what the burning patch of pavement was, as if the DeLorean from Back To The Future had just passed by.Setting out from Hamburg it wasn't long before a familiar sight returned. After just 70 miles the KTM's fuel light was on, and as fuel ranges go that's crap. As it turned out the reserve is a fairly huge 35 miles, but with a tank range of around 100 miles it would seriously delay the ride back.

But, as it happened, the rest of the journey passed fairly uneventfully. It even stayed dry, proving that naked bikes can cover decent distances as long as you pace yourself well and only ride on sunny roads. Although it is worth warning riders to make sure their mirrors work in Germany. No matter how fast you ride there is always a Passat full of Germans going 10mph quicker!Over a quick beer in the ferry's bar three tired but happy bikers discussed the bikes. For Daryll and James the biggest surprise was the Speed Triple. "It just gets better the more you ride it," reckoned James, and while the KTM was brilliant fun it just isn't practical enough for day-to-day use. "I'd 'ave one," said James, "but only as a second bike. The tank range is crap and it ain't practical. It's perfect for the kind of bloke who would buy a supermoto, then not race it. Get a Super Duke, not a supermoto.".

The Aprilia, we all reckoned, was probably the most practical, but for the limited tank range, and the Triumph would be easily bearable, if not quite as good. And the MV? On looks alone it's a winner, no question. But it needs more power. "Everything about it is quality," said James. "It doesn't have any parts just stuck on, they're all lovingly placed and styled, it is simply beautiful. It just needs a more grunty engine. But for me the winner is the Triumph. I didn't think it would be, but it just keeps on growing on me."Funnily enough, a few days after we got back I had a call from Whitham, who had just got off the phone to his bezzer mate Carl Fogarty. "I mentioned to him I'd just ridden the Triple," said James, "and he told me he has one on order. I've tested loads of bikes and never felt I wanted one, but that Triple is perfect for me. The longest ride I do is about 70 miles to Scunthorpe for a brew, otherwise it's just nippin' in and out of town. I'm going to have to get one. I loved it."

We are only about 20 miles into France and things aren't going well. Three naked bikes are slip-streaming each other down the dual carriageway with about a foot separating their wheels.

Every now and then point man Daryll tucks in an elbow to check in his mirror that Alex is still tucked in behind, which sets off a chain reaction as Alex raises his elbow to see if I'm still behind him. I just keep trying to make myself as small as possible. Aerodynamics are the key when you are running on vapours. And mirrors on naked bikes are no use whatsoever.

Rolling off the ferry in Calais we knew that the bikes would need some fuel - it had been about 90 miles since we last filled them up. Not a problem, we thought, there must be a fuel stop fairly soon on the route to Antwerp.

That was 20 miles ago. The Triumph's fuel light had come on almost as soon as we left the port, the MV followed suit five miles later and so did the Aprilia. Oh well, at least the weather was good.

Tucked in behind Alex I have a thought. If his bike does, as is looking increasingly likely with every passing tenth of a mile, run out of gas I'm going to run straight into his rear wheel when it has its first dry tank hiccup. I back off a few feet and plan how to push the Triumph when the inevitable happens.

Just as I've decided I could sacrifice a bit of boot rubber by putting my sole against one of the Triumph's underseat pipes and shoving it, there is a fuel sign. We still have 25km to go. Mental arithmetic works out that's about 15 miles. But 35 miles on reserve? That's pushing it, probably literally.

But we make it, albeit at a snail's pace. As the Triumph rolls into the petrol station a very relieved Alex puts 17.5 litres into the 18-litre tank. We decide for the rest of the journey to start looking for fuel when the trips hit 90 miles.

With nearly 500 miles to cover that day we could have done without this slight setback, but any road trip always has minor delays. And this wasn't even the first of the day. Bizarrely, our first was caused by the weather in Australia. James was doing his commentary overnight for the World Superbike races, but the rain-delayed second race meant he was forced to catch a later ferry, along with snapper Oli. For safety's sake (he hadn't slept all night) we put him, and the KTM, in Oli's van. Oh, and did I mention the lazy, militant, sheep burning, striking French ferry port workers?

Bikes fuelled and we were back on our way. With these bikes needing filling regularly the journey to Hamburg was split into bite-sized sections, a blessing on an unfaired bike. "That seat is so hard on the Triumph," reckoned Alex, "I've done 500km off-road in a day on the Dakar, so my arse is virtually made of leather, but this hurts!"