Trigger Warning | 2018 Husqvarna 701 Vitpilen First Ride

By Paul Fenn

Contributing Editor

(Photos by Devon Codrington and author)

It’s hot, humid and midnight. Bike-testing hour in my town. Acceleration lane’s unoccupied. I wind out first, punching into second at the 8,500rpm redline, no clutch required. We have liftoff.

I'm on Toronto’s Gardiner Expressway, where road quality is reliably post-war. Rear wheel’s busy parsing out potholes from ruts, spilled concrete from a flattened rat, while contending with frost heaves like church steeples that deliver more gut-kick than a 6:00am tumbler of Bulleit.

Traffic’s mostly 905ers, restless suburbanites in Eurocars, racing each other home to Mississauga and beyond. Some, it’s assumed, are boozed up. No problem, think I. Drunks are predictable... no shoulder checks, no lane-change signals, minimal acceptance of painted lines as lane delineators, zero situational awareness – just like everyone else on the road.

Fun’s not all this bike has to offer

I pound it up to third, already well into the ambient velocity, which is a good 40kmh / 25mph above the posted limit, and twist it till it won’t twist na' more. “Damn. You’re a single?” I say this out loud. Willful, wanton, unexpected power comes on in a Niagaral surge, end not in sight. No time to check my speed.

Just as it feels time to nudge into fourth, a secondary power-band near the top says, “Hang on, the real adventure’s about to start now.” So I keep on the throttle till bumping the limiter, then chuck it into fourth. I’m passing everything like it’s backing up. Without engine vibrations. That, says the literature, is thanks to two crankshaft counterbalancers. The tar is everything but smooth, only adding to the excitement.

Right on schedule, a tuner-car savant I saw earlier decides to exit the highway at 140km/h, with maybe 300 remaining feet to get across three busy lanes. I’m already in the exit lane and know what he‘s going to do before he even thinks of it. I brake heartily for him, guessing correctly that he won’t see me, then let him in. I can’t even be bothered to honk or hi-beam the denuded soul. It’s all part of the real-life video game of motorcycling. I note, for futures, that hard-braking the 701 requires something it shouldn’t. Space.

Friday afternoon, I ride the 701 Vitpilen (Swedish for "white arrow") from Toronto to Cobourg to cook dinner and spend the night at my mama’s. I circle around rush-hour Hwy 401 and its nightmare tangles of hot buttered humanity, via backroads and gravel, taking around four hours to get there. Not long into it, I begin to detect pains radiating from hands, wrists, shoulders and rear end. In fairness to the 701, I am wearing a fully-laden backpack, which pulls down my shoulders and weighs down my hands.

Less is more

But in fairness to truth, the 701 Vitpilen is no long-rider. You take it out, laugh, scare yourself, park it, ogle it, absorb praise, answer questions from passersby, then get back on for more kicks. That’s what it’s made for, and that’s no small achievement. For they are high-end kicks, the kind involving exceptional handling at very high speeds, a front end that feels like it weighs 3lbs yet never flakes out or loses footing, and wheelies that come as easily as the smiles they inspire. The 701 is a two-wheeled hair trigger that urges and cajoles the rider to do bad.

I found myself favourably comparing the toy-sized 701 to the brutalist KTM 1290 Super Duke R, my favourite press bike yet. The 701 may lack the grunt, polish and obscenities of power – but for a bike of its size, it contains multitudes in terms of capabilities, thrills and sensations.

The 701’s a cheat machine on so many fronts – size, weight, power, handling. Again and again, you can’t believe what it tolerates, what it lets you pull off. That chicks really dig it is also good news. That they can enjoy piloting it as much as any man is fact: It’s low, small and light enough for a female of almost any size or stature. Yet, a big guy won’t feel at all cramped, a la superbike. That’s a laudable achievement.

Do we need to say it’s a thing of beauty?

Never have I had so many compliments on a motorcycle. Never have I given one so many. The more you look, the more you lust. Especially when you put it into a setting that lets it steal the limelight, such as in the company of most other bikes.

This machine is going to do very well. It’s created its own class. Further roll-outs along the theme are planned. I will report on them as they appear.

What’s not to love?

There’s a distinct mechanical noise while seated in the cockpit. It’s rather loud. At idle, you hear not exhaust, not bass-note, not rumble, but a raspy, bolts-in-a-Cuisinart clatter. However, once underway, with engine under load, you hear the pipe, and it’s badass.

The arse, hand and wrist pain are a shame. But you’ll not mind if you’re 25 and have no broken bones in those areas yet. And once you start riding it, you’re having too much fun to care, so, I’d advise just buying one and spanking it flagrantly.

Its price, C$13,399 / US$10,295, plus freight (to Toronto C$550), PDI (C$400), sales tax (Ontario C$1,865) and license (I forget) will net it out at over C$C16,214, in my town, in my dollars. That’s rare old cheddar. May hold back some. But there are things to consider here. You’re getting a work of art in every definition of the word. You’ll never get bored. It’s the state of city bike art. And it even has a trick pillion seat.

Full specs here

Many thanks to Husqvarna Motorcycle Canada for loaning the bike. My mother and I loved it. And thanks also to @devon for joining me for rides and pics.