First Ride: 2007 MV Agusta F41000 312R

Now don't get too excited there, the 312R doesn't really do 312kmh (194mph). The moniker is merely a celebration of the fact a modified MV F4 once did a satellite-verified 311-point-something kmh. Flat out. Possibly down a big hill.

Notwithstanding, do now pay attention because after the best part of 10 years, 13 variations and some 20,000 units, the 312R is the newest production F4. Attending the world launch we (the press) thought it was a limited edition, but no (said the MV bosses), this is the mass-production offering for 2007.

And it does have some significant improvements for this year. Not least a change to (bigger) titanium valves, new cam profiles and an increase in throttle bore. All up, it's 9bhp up on the last model, being stronger from 7000rpm upwards with a rev ceiling a further 500rpm higher than before, at 13,000rpm. Chassis wise, it's business as usual. But since this beast is bejewelled with such wonderful components as 50mm Marzocchi forks, Brembo wheels, radial brakes and that still-stunning signature four pipe exhaust, 'business as usual' here still means top spec. And it should be, as the ticket to gain entry to this particular party will set you back nearly 15 large.

So this test is all about checking out what 15-grand biking is about: a day at Monza no less (only in the damp, alas), then back to Blighty to pick up a fresh 312 for some road riding and a day's abuse at on the dyno and at Bruntingthorpe to see just what it will really do flat-stick, even if it isn't 312kmh...

MONZA


Approaching Lesmo 2 the anticipation builds. Not for the corner, but for after the corner. Lesmo 2 is simply a case of knocking back a gear, tipping in and tipping back out - bit of a non-corner really. No, what's important happens the moment you pass the apex and see the following straight as it heads into the trees. Despite the drizzle and the damp track this is a matter of getting on the gas as soon as possible for max beans all the way down this long dark tunnel of Tarmac punctuated only by a very fast kink.

I'm trying to upright the bike as early as I can while watching only two things - the track and the red gearshift light. Soon as that light flashes I'm shifting up. And again. We're at the top end of fourth when we tuck left under the trees into the Curva del Serraglio. It's more of a kink, but it's taken exquisitely flat out.

And it helps that the track's quite narrow here. It makes the speed feel all the more impressive. If the MV let go here, I suppose we'd be doing around 140mph, and there wouldn't be much left of either bike or rider - the Armco would see to that. But that isn't going to happen. The MV isn't going to let it happen, I can tell.

And after the kink we're banging in two more gear changes as the MV goes 10 to 12 (thousand) two more times through what feels like a close ratio gearbox. The track seems to narrow even more as it dives, rider unsighted, under what is the old banking of the autodromo. Christ, we must be knocking a good 165mph as we burst out from under the banking and into the entry to Variante Ascari.

Here you leave your braking real late, despite the massive feeling of speed. First two laps here I left it too late and ended up on the curbs, desperately trying to keep out of the gravel. This lap I've given myself an extra 20 metres to get slowed and it's helped. It's still a bit iffy mind and I'm conscious of the front washing out, so I make sure no matter what speed I've got left I'm off the brakes when I tip in. And this lap I've got it about right. The bike balances perfectly on the throttle as I follow first the right then the left curb before abandoning all curbs forthwith and plain nailing it for the run down to the Parabolica.

So... what you'll notice is that over those three paragraphs I've barely mentioned the MV, except in passing. It's a tale of the track and the buzz. And that's significant. You see, such was the innate feel and familiarity the MV afforded, I was able to entirely concentrate on the riding. And this, in case you're wondering, is a good thing. I wasn't worrying about the power kicking in and high-siding me. I wasn't worried about overly sensitive brakes locking up the front and initiating a 300-metre Tarmac surf. No. All I was worried about was keeping that throttle nailed for as long as possible.

I'm talking a supersports 1000, punching a claimed 183bhp, capable of a good 175mph, a bike that's about as powerful and lithesome as you can get. And yet the ride experience was like thrashing one of those cool 250cc two-stroke proddie racers of old. And this in the damp and cold of early season northern Italy. So at Monza, yes, the MV was impressive. Very, very impressive.

BRUNTINGTHORPE


We're at Bruntingthorpe with another MV 1000F4 312R capturing photographic evidence to support just how good this bike is proving to be. We'll of course set it up with our data recorder and tap out some top speeds and standing quarters - for the record - but it's the images that are important today.

Or they were important until we start the riding. The rain at Monza had helped mask how rusty my riding is. In the wet, however manic you may think you go, it's still nowhere near as extreme as you can ride in the dry, and physically it's certainly less testing.

Here at Bruntingthorpe, incredibly in the sun, I'm finding just how tough riding a 1000 fast is. The MV's radial brakes are fantastic, hugely strong, as sensitive as you could ever wish for and quite clearly capable of endo-ing the MV into oblivion if you were that ham-fisted. As it is they promote arm-pump as well as heart-pump as the back fishtails mildly on corner entry (when I'm getting it all wrong that is).

Then there's the matter of corner speed. This takes some getting used to. I've probably been riding a good half hour before I'm getting anywhere near a limit - mine or the bike's (okay, mine). On a fast open left-hander I look down momentarily wondering if we're going fast yet. The speedo's registering 115mph. It would appear we are. There follows a short straight where we hook another gear before backing off and dropping two gears for a much tighter right, which is probably about 80mph. Here I'm repeatedly going in too fast and braking well into the corner as I lean in. How the front isn't tucking I don't know. But between the impeccable Marzocchi forks and the Dunlop Sportmax front there's no sign of distress. These are true racer-like responses.

I push harder and harder. Ever the chancer I feel encouraged to seriously push; twice I miss corners altogether having to dive behind the bollards to run out on the concrete apron behind. On another corner I encounter a kind of total washout over what looks like a Tarmac patch. It's not clever because I'm well leaned when she goes. Each time it comes back though, without so much as slap. After a dozen passes I slow down to inspect this patch only to find it isn't a patch, it's a metal drain. Whoops. Good bike.

We continue and really there isn't anything the MV won't do. Out of a real slow right-hander the rear slips from time to time as it tries to find grip where there are only holes and over-banding. It's great fun. As is the complete lack of steering at this point. With the throttle nailed the front barely touches Tarmac. You can literally turn the bars left and right and nothing happens. It's not wheelying, but there's simply no weight to the front. It's doing about 100mph before you stop steering with body weight, pushing through the pegs, and return to conventional counter-steering means.

Diddy turned up in the afternoon to speed test the Japanese 1000s for next month's issue. I snag the GSX-R K7 for a quick comparison check. Lordy! It's huge. And so plasticky. And so, so mediocre by comparison. When I brake it nose-stands and I fall forward into the back of the tank. When I accelerate it wheelies and I fall backwards. I have to grip with my knees real tight. And in the corners it almost wallows. It's not by any means bad, jeez, far from it, but compared to the MV it feels so much like a soft baggy street bike. Probably just as well then that the K7 pipped the MV for top speed by 1mph and properly beat it on standing quarters thanks to a more forgiving clutch. But it has to be said, next to the MV the K7 looks like an ice cream van. The Suzuki isn't an ugly sister, it's no relative at all.

It's with relief that I step back onto the MV and return to my laps. Just pushing, pushing, pushing. Flipping glorious.

A272 PETERSFIELD-UCKFIELD


And then there's the road riding. This, perhaps, could have been the MV's failing. But no. Not by a long measure. Okay, that's a fairly racy riding position, so there's some weight falling on your wrists. And the suspension's quite firm. But none of that, not even the near-useless mirrors, does anything to diminish what is still a very classy ride. Not even the indicators packing up - an electrical fault there - can stop this bike feeling very special.

The point being that the set-up works on the road nearly as well as it does on the track. There's the entirely civil power delivery for a start. On the slowest (stupid) stop-start chicane at Monza, in the damp, there was a hint of on-off jerkiness about the throttle, but thankfully that doesn't make itself felt in road riding. The engine's pulling nicely from 2500rpm, then pulls properly from 4000rpm. From 6000 to the 12,500rpm limiter (the tacho whimsically stops at 17,000) is one broad spread of commanding power. It's kind of linear, or as much as it can be given we're close to unleashing the full 183 (claimed) horsepower.

So despite the dodgy roads and the rain showers that are sweeping across the South Downs, the MV makes tidy and entirely civilised progress. When the road opens out, the MV, in top gear, simply surges forward. Nicely. And it does corners slow as sweetly as it does them flat-out. It was entirely possible to enjoy some country bends while still, loosely, being within the confines of the law. Two and a half hours of cross-country work, broken by two short rest breaks, had us home and if not exactly fresh at least still feeling mighty chuffed with the world.

We've even been commuting on the MV and, like the supersport 600s on test elsewhere in this magazine, the MV proved relaxed and easy. Admittedly I wanted to slit my wrists after one slightly muddy ride - it breaks your heart to see this bike grubby - but a post ride wash-down had the beast sparkling again.

£14,750 WELL SPENT


It's really not that difficult to justify the ticket on the 312R. In fact you could argue it's surprisingly cheap for what it is. After all, take a new Japanese four-cylinder 1000 - that's £9000 to start. Then add a set of near-race spec forks - you'll not see much change from £3k there. Then add some race-spec wheels, a new shock, a decent exhaust, some quality rear-sets. Any compulsive accessory-head will tell you, it's very easy to spend a good six grand on your GSX-R or R1. And what you'll have for your money is a tricked-up Japanese 1000. You'll have to spend more again to get it all dialled in and working. With the MV you get all this spec as standard, and it works. And after all that you get an MV too. The design may not have changed much in 10 years, but look at it - none of the Japanese are close to the achingly beautiful lines of the 312R.

The MV isn't just sculpture though. That wonderfully tractable motor is stronger and more powerful than the GSX-R1000 K7's.

The handling feels superior too. By nearly all measures it is the superior machine. And that's the way it should be. Why else spend the large wedge of extra dough? But, and this is the big question on many lips, is it superior to Ducati's 1098? Well, that's yet to be established with a genuine head-to-head but in some ways too, it's an irrelevance. Twins and fours are very different animals, so all I can say is the MV is quite probably the ultimate production four today. If you like it fast, and you're feeling flush, I can guarantee you won't regret buying one. And let me know when you do will you, I'd love another go.

VERDICT 5/5


Track focused beast of beauty, works on every level

SPECS


TYPE - SUPERSPORTS


PRODUCTION DATE - 2007


PRICE NEW - £14,750


ENGINE CAPACITY - 998cc


POWER - 167.3bhp@12,250rpm


TORQUE - 78.8lb.ft@10,000rpm


WEIGHT - 192kg


SEAT HEIGHT - 810mm


FUEL CAPACITY - 21L


TOP SPEED - 174.5mph


0-60 - n/a


TANK RANGE - 129miles

Now don't get too excited there, the 312R doesn't really do 312kmh (194mph). The moniker is merely a celebration of the fact a modified MV F4 once did a satellite-verified 311-point-something kmh. Flat out. Possibly down a big hill.

Notwithstanding, do now pay attention because after the best part of 10 years, 13 variations and some 20,000 units, the 312R is the newest production F4. Attending the world launch we (the press) thought it was a limited edition, but no (said the MV bosses), this is the mass-production offering for 2007.

And it does have some significant improvements for this year. Not least a change to (bigger) titanium valves, new cam profiles and an increase in throttle bore. All up, it's 9bhp up on the last model, being stronger from 7000rpm upwards with a rev ceiling a further 500rpm higher than before, at 13,000rpm.

Chassis wise, it's business as usual. But since this beast is bejewelled with such wonderful components as 50mm Marzocchi forks, Brembo wheels, radial brakes and that still-stunning signature four pipe exhaust, 'business as usual' here still means top spec. And it should be, as the ticket to gain entry to this particular party will set you back nearly 15 large.

So this test is all about checking out what 15-grand biking is about: a day at Monza no less (only in the damp, alas), then back to Blighty to pick up a fresh 312 for some road riding and a day's abuse at on the dyno and at Bruntingthorpe to see just what it will really do flat-stick, even if it isn't 312kmh...

MONZA

Approaching Lesmo 2 the anticipation builds. Not for the corner, but for after the corner. Lesmo 2 is simply a case of knocking back a gear, tipping in and tipping back out - bit of a non-corner really. No, what's important happens the moment you pass the apex and see the following straight as it heads into the trees. Despite the drizzle and the damp track this is a matter of getting on the gas as soon as possible for max beans all the way down this long dark tunnel of Tarmac punctuated only by a very fast kink.

I'm trying to upright the bike as early as I can while watching only two things - the track and the red gearshift light. Soon as that light flashes I'm shifting up. And again. We're at the top end of fourth when we tuck left under the trees into the Curva del Serraglio. It's more of a kink, but it's taken exquisitely flat out.

And it helps that the track's quite narrow here. It makes the speed feel all the more impressive. If the MV let go here, I suppose we'd be doing around 140mph, and there wouldn't be much left of either bike or rider - the Armco would see to that. But that isn't going to happen. The MV isn't going to let it happen, I can tell.

And after the kink we're banging in two more gear changes as the MV goes 10 to 12 (thousand) two more times through what feels like a close ratio gearbox. The track seems to narrow even more as it dives, rider unsighted, under what is the old banking of the autodromo. Christ, we must be knocking a good 165mph as we burst out from under the banking and into the entry to Variante Ascari.

Here you leave your braking real late, despite the massive feeling of speed. First two laps here I left it too late and ended up on the curbs, desperately trying to keep out of the gravel. This lap I've given myself an extra 20 metres to get slowed and it's helped. It's still a bit iffy mind and I'm conscious of the front washing out, so I make sure no matter what speed I've got left I'm off the brakes when I tip in.

And this lap I've got it about right. The bike balances perfectly on the throttle as I follow first the right then the left curb before abandoning all curbs forthwith and plain nailing it for the run down to the Parabolica.