Cagiva 125 Super City
Cagiva 125 Super City
.Yamaha TDR 125 vs Cagiva 125 Super City vs Aprilia 125 Pagaso
IF YOU CAN'T HAVE A BALL on these bikes, you're dead. If you've never pulleda stoppie before, here's where you find out. And if you're not that kind ofchap, 'absolutely dreadful behaviour.... shouldn't be allowed... givesmotorcycling a bad name... rhubarb... rhubarb...' I suggest you complain toMssrs Cagiva, Yamaha and Aprilia first. Cos there ain't no way these bikes weremeant for anything less.
These are the new mini-motards. Eighth-litre strokers with a devil-childattitude borne from an unholy marriage of motocrossers and road race scratchers.Lucifer lightweights with big fun extras: extra flash (for posing); extra brakes(for stoppies) and extra wring-ding for street-cross crazies keen to impressyoung ladies. For flush learners (they're not cheap) wanting a beastie, butsurprisingly practical alternative to racer-reps, they're the biz. And forirresponsible adults, they're more lascivious fun than Luncheon Vouchers atLindi St Clair's.
The basic ingredients are simple: MX-derived chassis, single-cylinder motors,well-wicked styling and the hottest, grab-biest and stickiest brakes, tyres andwheels you can imagine. The inspiration comes from super motard races like theannual Guidon d'Or (Golden Handlebar) at Circuit Carole, near Paris which pitsthe world's best road racers (Rainey, Lawson, Kocinski, Mamola etc) against topoff-roaders and MX-ers around a half dirt, half tarmac track on what are,essentially, 500cc motocrossers with, yes, you've guessed, smaller, widerwheels, road race tyres and beefed-up brakes. Mad as un peche.
Cagiva was the first to enter the fray when it unleashed the 125 Super Cityat the NEC Bike Show the year before last. It looked so hot then in its limegreen and black paint, agape onlookers contracted melanomas. Its 150-sectionPirelli MP7 rear tyre, huge Brembo full-floater front disc, upside-down frontforks and claimed 30bhp scared small children and seduced the hooligan psycheout of bigger ones. Aprilia's more trail-orientated 125 Pegaso followed at theend of last year and was rumoured to be even faster. And now, as if to confirmthe creation of a fully-fledged new class, Yamaha has become the first of thebig four Japanese manufacturers to build its own mini-motard. Enter the TDR.
All three of these bikes have dual personalities. Each can be had in eitherlearner-restricted 12bhp spec or, with Yamaha now too deciding to import itsderestricted version of the TDR, as a full 30-horse screamer fit to terroriseany neighbourhood. Both the Aprilia and Cagiva, as tested, were full-power. Butwith the 28bhp version of the TDR not available until May, we were left with abe-learnered version of the Yamaha. That said, it still impressed massively. Andwheelied too... just.
WRINGING 30 HORSES or so from a piddly 125 is a take-no-prisoners,no-compromise affair. Its all or nothing, on pipe or off— and it doesn't halfmake itself felt. With the tight, pokey Super City, playing-out time is strictlybetween nine and half past, between which this little buzz bomb is the noisiestbrat in town: screaming and flying and with your left foot tapping faster thanLionel Blair. And, two rpm below nine, dying.
This isn't so much Super City as serious power band city. 'Peaky' isn't thehalf of it and God only knows what it'd be like without its supposedlymidrange-boosting exhaust powervalve. And life with the Cagiva, bumbling aroundwith about 10bhp up to 9000rpm (well, it feels like it), sounding like a tin ofmarbles before suddenly screeching forward to the the rev-limiter at ten-five,is sometimes fraught, sometimes annoying but usually crazily addictive.
Getting a decent launch means frantic clutch-slipping, not just in first butin second too. The gearbox has seven ultraclose ratio speeds but feels like iteither needs nine or, on mushy downshifts, preferably as few as possible. Theclutch is snatchy and, with the abuse asked of it by the engine's peakiness, youcould do with a ready spare. Yet all of it is delivered in such a crisp, tight,parp-parp way that, for most of the time, you forgive its singlemindedness. Andthen you wring it some more.
All this considered, we expected the Cagiva to be the quickest too. But wewuz wrong. After the crisp but still slightly tight, fresh-out-of-the-crateSuper City, the more secondhand Pegaso came over as sloppy. The gearchangerattled, the throttle was light and loose and its revs flew up and down asfreely as leaves on an autumn wind. All of which managed to disguise how fast(for a 125) the thing was actually going.
Ninety-eight mph fast. And that, from a 125, from an unfaired, sit-up-and-beg125 (even if, at the time, I was more tightly tucked-in than a hospital bed) isfantastically impressive. Like the Aprilia Sport-Pro is to the Cagiva Mito, thePegaso's mill is chalk to the Super City's gorgonzola. Where everything isfocussed, crisp and black or white-exact on the Cagiva — it's either on or it'snot on — the Aprilia is looser all-round; greyer, mushier and, because of it,more flexible, more day-to-day usable, and it seemed quite happy to run fluidlyright through into the red.
Until it seized, that is. Yes, oops, hur-rumph. It sounded ominous, it couldhave been extremely nasty (outside lane of the M6, 80mph, traffic, around8000rpm and it locked absolutely solid) but BIKE has been assured it was a totalone-off attributable to an earlier crash. On examination, Aprilia UK found apreviously unnoticed hairline crack in the cases which let air be sucked throughat sustained high speed so leaning off the mixture and causing the seizure.Still shat me pants though.
No such worries for the Yamaha. With its easy, assured air of Japanese buildquality and just 12bhp to barely ripple its pond, the bland, strangled,understressed TDR is about as likely to go pop as a morning after, half-emptybottle of Coke. It might be an unfair comparison in this context, but evenmaking ocean-sized allowances for the power differential, the catalyzer-equippedYam (the first small bike in the UK so-equipped, incidentally) doesn't come overas all it should be. Solid and trustworthy and learner-adequate it is, butexcitement is strictly restricted to low-speed torn foolery. It won't rev asfreely as the Aprilia yet fails to compensate with any noticeable mid rangedrive. In short it's as if more power is channelled through the monstrous twinbeam headlight than through the drivechain and as such it's either 8000rpm andfrantic, with typical Yam clunky gearshifts, or it's a funky moped.
Everything else though about it is fantastic. If the engine's a little sad,the chassis is superb. Its spec sheet may not bristle with as much alloy or hightech goodies as the Cagiva, but what it has works, gels and inspires confidenceand, a little while later, lots of larking about.
What's most in the Yam's favour is its size and proportions. It's noticeablylarger than both the Aprilia and rather titchy Super City. The riding positionis spacious and comfy rather than small and slightly cramped like the twoItal-jets. And the TDR comes over as a full-sized, 'proper' motorcycle (even ifit is powered by an elastic band) — no-one would ever guess it's just a 125 and,if you're around six-foot or so, that's important.
What's more, despite its steel frame and cheapish tyres, brakes andsuspension (at least in comparison to the superbly-kitted Cagiva), the TDRhandles beautifully. The steering, balance and feedback from the slightlysquidgy brakes and suspension is such that, engine aside, this is probably theeasiest bike to get on with I've ever ridden. Seriously. You could ride thisthing in your sleep. And with that engine, you'll probably have to. And it'sthat which makes it so much fun.
The Super C, on the other hand, is an entirely different prospect. This isserious kit. Hard, racer-ey suspension, sharp steering, fierce brakes,outrageously sticky tyres and ultra-light weight asks for experience. Snap theCagiva and it bites back; kick the gear lever too hard and the thing's so lightyou'll almost kick yourself into a bus queue. But get it right; point it, squirtit, scream it and slide it, and it's a microcosm of marvellousness. It's light,it's skittish and it's a helluva lot of fun. But, like the engine, there's nocompromise: you're either living on the edge, having a blast or — b-burr-burr,b-burr-burr — pottering unhappily, uneasily. And, pardon me, but that's no wayto pull the crumpet.
Which leaves the Aprilia somewhere between the two. Of these three the Pegasowas always the trickiest to suss out. The fastest, most fluid engine in achassis that seemed unsure of what it was trying to be. The others? Easy. TheCagiva's there to be flash and fast and pull birds; the TDR's the sensible,soft, starter bike with big image and big fun. But the Pegaso, with its nastychrome wire wheels and street knobblies doesn't seem to know if it's a trailbike or not.
And that's how it behaves. The front disc, like the Yam's, is strong butsquidgy, the suspension is slightly wallowy after the diamond Cagiva, and itsMT50s are simply destroyed by the leech-like MP7s of the Super C. Overall,though lighter and more nimble than the TDR, the Pegaso is loose and ragged andyou find yourself being vaguer, working harder, using more of the road andriding around touches of wallow, smatterings of weave and hints of flex wherethe Super C was the rock steady crew. But the Peg's still impressively quick.
Ultimately, with these three it probably boils down to matters of taste andvalue for your money. And with the Cagiva you get an awful lot: looks to die for(even if my six-foot looked like Geoff Capes on a Blackpool donkey); top-notchbrakes, wheels, tyres and suspension and enough rave-generation stickers such as'City Sports Concept' and 'Enjoying New Riding Experiences' to keep you inchat-up lines outside McDonalds for a month of Sundays.
But being Italian, of course, what you also get is a headlight thatilluminates more of the inner fairing than the road (useful, though, if you wantto read Smash Hits while you're zapping along); floppy mirrors, anawkWardly-placed choke lever and dim idiot lights which incorporate a bag-fullof false neutrals.
And though the Pegaso shares many of the Cagiva's Italianisms (its switchgearis identical, for example, and just as easy to turn off the lights when huntingfor dip as it is on the Super C), neither it nor the disturbingly pricey TDR canquite match the Super City's flair. If the Pegaso looks slightly old-fashionedthat's because, though new to the UK, it's been around in Italy for four years.If the black TDR looks a little dazzled by the Super City it's because, one,it's Japanese, and two, it's really the only practical learner-bike of thethree. The TDR has a phenomenal headlamp and the only fairing here that doesanything more than cover the wiring. It is solid and sturdy where the Italiansare delicate and pernickity and, though it might not quite match the Cagiva forpose, it is delicious from its TDM-style fairing down to its hugger rear guard(although I don't rate the turquoise and orange paint option).
And that, for me, is enough to rate the TDR joint-tops with the Cagiva. If Iwas 17 I'd want a TDR, and if I was a 17-year-old's dad I'd want him to have onetoo — though I still have trouble justifying its high price. But if I was 17,under 5ftl0, already a half-decent rider and the type of git who breaks most ofhis chrissie pressies before the Queen's speech without getting told off, it'dbe the Super City, no question.
Meantimes I'm 28, wondering why hardly anyone bought the old TDR250 before itwas deleted last year and thinking it's about time Cagiva got round to buildingsomething bigger than a 125 for people other than Chandler and Mladin. Surelyit's not that difficult?
Source Bike Magazine 1993