THE NUDIST COLONY – VI: BENELLI R160
If I was 20 years old, I would buy this snarling, cantankerous, mad-looking bastard in a second. I wouldn’t even look at the other bikes. Beside the Benelli, they are all invisible anyway.
It sounds like it’s having some kind of heavy metallic thrombosis even when its idling, while howling like a hot-rod racing bike when you’re up it. It’s ridiculously low geared and I found myself searching for a higher cog in tight corners in order to smooth my exits a little. The motor is strong and willing and ever so angry.
The bike itself feels raw and brutal, and the styling is chaotically awesome. But I was simply too damn old to fall in love with this lunatic dago honk-weapon. It very much reminded me of what Italian bikes were like 25 years ago — and what I was like 25 years ago. And there are positives and negatives to both of those things.
About the Author
Al Al does a bit of everything, and likes hanging around with Boris, because there are generally motorcycles and whiskey, and because hilarity generally ensues. He wastes his spare time not moderating the BIKE ME! forums, where he posts occasionally and is regarded as unfair, unbalanced and unmedicated. Shows how much THEY know.
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