If imitation be truly the sincerest form of flattery, then BMW’s R1200GS should be prepared for some sickeningly sweet tributes of the most fawning variety. BMW has fairly owned the big adventure touring market in recent years — indeed, ever since it launched the R80G/S way back in 1980. The original G/S was little more than a tribute to the company’s odd (odd as in no one could quite understand why anyone would try to convert a huge, heavy Boxer twin into a dirt bike) Paris-Dakar racers. Little thought was given to the possible popularity of adventure tourers back then, just as SUVs were once basically crude covered pickups favoured by hunters, fishermen and the odd farm fetishist who actually liked the smell of cow manure. Fast forward 30 years and adventure tourers, just like the once-niched sport-utility vehicle, are immensely popular, one of few popular segments — if not here, in places such as Europe and South America — left in large-displacement motorcycling.
And BMW has dominated the genre. Oh, numerous competitors have come and gone, but none has really dared to attack the big GS directly. Suzuki’s V-Stroms, though dressed up like dirt bikes, have just been GSX-Rs in disguise. Honda’s Varadero proved imminently capable but ultimately characterless. Ditto Yamaha’s Super Tenere. And Moto Guzzi’s Stelvio, while equally quirky and stylish, suffers the lack of refinement that Guzzi’s meager R & D budget engenders.
But, from the very first perusal, Triumph’s new Tiger Explorer looks to be aimed at the very heart of GS-dom. It hardly copies the R1200’s styling, for instance, yet the Explorer is unquestionably recognizable as a GS challenger, the fairing angular and busy with the (optional) crash bars and spot lamps that adventure touring aficionados think passes for off-road bona fides. The seat, like the GS’s, is broad and flat and, surprise, surprise, it boasts a huge range adjustability — from 810 to 880 millimetres — thanks to some easily swapped prongs under the seat as well as optional different thickness padding (there’s also the option of a heated seat; rugged individualists like to have warm tushies, too). There’s a computerized rider information centre, an electronic cruise control and the de rigueur adjustable windshield. All told, the Explorer verily exudes the rudimentary practicality that adventure tourers love while in fact luxuriating with gee-whiz features that would make Gold Wing owners jealous. At even a mere glance, the Explorer looks the part, even if its exhaust can look about the size of a smokestack on a luxury liner.
But who cares what it looks like when the new Tiger packs a 1,215- cubic-centimetre version of a Triumph’s iconic triple? Like the GS’s Oilhead twin, the big three-cylinder fairly exudes character with soulful exhaust music and enough low- and mid-range torque to tow the Titanic. As one would suspect, if you’ve ridden the already grunt-laden 1,050-cc Speed Triple, boring out the cylinders (by six millimetres over the 1,050) has only enhanced low-speed pulling power. Indeed, below 5,000 rpm, it’s hard to imagine anything with more pulling power other than monstrosities such as Triumph’s own 2,300-cc Rocket III and Yamaha’s over-the-top VMax. Things flatten out a bit above 6,000 revs, but Triumph claims a maximum of 135 horsepower so the Explorer literally scoots to 200 kilometres an hour even though it weighs in at a hefty 259 kilograms. If you’re looking for the Explorer’s greatest advantage over the R1200, look no further than its three gargantuan pistons.
The big triple does vibrate slightly more than its smaller siblings, however. Things remain quite smooth until, again, about 6,000 rpm, but the bars and pegs can get a little buzzy after that. The tingle’s amplitude is actually less than BMW’s Boxer twin, but its frequency is higher so it’s more noticeable; it’s not bothersome but noticeable. One should note, though, that 5,000 rpm equates to something more than 130 km/h in top gear, so, by the time the pegs start buzzing, you might have bigger (legal) issues.
The Explorer offers a couple of unique engine management features, probably the most useful being a three-position traction control system. The first position is the full-on safety nanny allowing little slip; the second position offers little more latitude so the big triple can be slid around off-road, while the third shuts down the system completely if one is feeling particularly brave trying to modulate 1,215 cc of torque over a slippery gravel road.
The second novelty is the segment’s unique-to-this-segment throttle-by-wire system. A technology now common to race bikes and automobiles, the lack of a throttle cable makes firm return springs a thing of the past. It may even be a little too light as bumps see your throttle hand moved too easily and making throttle response a little jerky over bumpy roads. On the other hand, you’ll never again complain of fatigued wrist muscles after a long ride.
Overall comfort, one of the prime reasons for the popularity of adventure tourers, is also excellent. The seating position, thanks to generous proportions between seat and footpeg, is quite comfortable, though I would have liked an extra inch of rise to the handlebar. The seat is broad and flat and up to many km in the saddle. My tester wasn’t equipped with heated handlebar grips, but they are available options (Triumph, like BMW, offers a cornucopia of accessories). Even the windshield — as seemingly minuscule as it is — provides surprising protection from the elements, especially in its most upright position (it’s a doddle to adjust, by the way). No doubt the aftermarket is designing bigger windscreens, if they’re not available already, but it’s not strictly necessary.
Even the long-travel suspension is accommodating. Oh, one of the shortcomings of Triumph’s use of shaft drive (like I said, this Tiger is aimed squarely at the R1200) is the increased sprung weight, which can make the rear damper a little harsh over sharp bumps. But, in general, the spring rates are set comfortably soft, perhaps a bit too much in the front, which dive generously under braking (ABS-monitored, by the way). But that’s characteristic of all these dirt bike-oriented adventure tourers save the BMW, whose Telelever front end all but eliminates brake dive.
The handling hardly suffers for it. The relatively skinny tires (compared with a sport bike’s, the Tiger’s 110/80-19 front and 150/70-17 rear radials are positively narrow) keep the steering light despite those aforementioned 259 kg, while the wide dirt bike-like handlebar offers excellent leverage for directional changes. Despite the Metzler’s semi-dirt bike tread pattern, there’s enough traction for serious lean angles. Combined with the extra grunty motor, this is one adventure tourer that will have little trouble keeping up with crotch rockets.
Where the $17,499 Explorer may (and I emphasize the “may” since I can’t be sure until I’ve conducted more exhaustive testing) suffer compared with the big BMW is in off-road comportment. Simply put, the R1200 GS is the only mainstream big-cube trailie (the rare KTM 990 works well off-road but is not in the same league on-road) with serious off-road ability. Besides its relatively low weight (and, compared with real dirt bikes, it really is only relatively), the flat-twin engine’s lower centre of gravity lets you do tricks in the dirt that no 1,170-cc motorcycle with shaft drive should be capable of. The Triumph, almost 15 kg heavier and with a much higher centre of gravity, will have to perform magic to emulate the BMW’s off-road performance.
I’m not sure how much it matters though. Adventure touring aficionados, like SUV owners, may demand go-anywhere styling, but they most seldom venture deeper into the woods than rutted cottage roads. The vast preponderance buy these bikes for their styling and the comfort of their upright riding position. Now they can add monster power to their list of wants, as long as they buy a Triumph Tiger Explorer.
