You might have loathed Bullets for you entire life, spat venom whenever a discussion about this bike surfaced, ridiculed scores of those blokes who don’t deserve life and yet get to ride a bike. “They’re worse-off riding that bike than die!” you’ve very wickedly mused yourself so often on their pathetic state. You don’t really need to tell me how much a Bullet appalls you. Or how much you adore it. For there doesn’t exist a third classification of humans, right?
Wrong. For, whether someone has lost a couple of dropped jaws, being bowled over by its classic old-bike charm; or whether someone doesn’t even bother to look at this prehistoric piece of evolution, this still is a bike. It still has two wheels connected to some material machinery, and it leaks oil real bad. So the romantics don’t need to write poems in its praise. And it still does its job of commuting from point A to B (“to” sometimes being in excess of a 1000kms) pretty well, so those space-descended aliens can stop cribbing and shut up for the moment.
With all my sanity in place, I vow not to let any jaundiced thoughts to creep into my psyche and stride towards the spanking, sparkling new Bullet Electra that waits for me in the garage. With all the smugness in the world that I could bring upon my face, I position myself on the bike. Trying to justify the macho pedigree of the thing, I crook my face, straighten my spine, try to look as expansive as I can, and push that newly incorporated electric-start switch with great pride. The electric motor tries its bit to bring that titanic piece of machinery to life. It fails. I try again. It fails again. After some half-a-dozen attempts, I find myself unable to carry that bogus expression of pride on my face. So I turn my head around, make sure that no one’s there to see, peel off all the forged expressions, get off the bike and start fiddling with all the little accessories that Royal Enfield has so humbly offered. First I try the decompressor, positioned in the place where you usually find a choke, then the idle screw which is so loose that you don’t really need a screw-driver to adjust it, then the fuel cock which is impossible for a novice to comprehend. Some more bits here and there and I finally land onto the choke. Located on the right, above the cylinder head, this piece is akin to the pull-stop switch for the old Mahindra Jeeps. I pull it once, push the starter button again and the engine comes alive, emanating the age-old thump from the exhaust which is music to a million, cacophony to a couple another.
Being from Rajasthan, the state of Maharajas, I can understand why the Rajputs like riding Bullets so much. With that towering amount of torque at avail, that exclusive feel of surge when you wring the throttle, that distinct thump and those connecting vibes, anyone is but bound to find his face paralysed enough to express any other feelings but those of pride. Something that these descendents of the royal families are obsessed with. Add to that the clearly audible clank (call it clatter when those gears gets stuck, which they do pretty often, though far less than their ancestors) that you hear when you shift. It’s very unlike the Bajaj’s explosive shift sound. It’s a clank, and by that I mean it’s a clank. You can very clearly hear pieces of metal colliding and making a sound, like two heavy (and blunt) swords have clashed in the air. I am not sure whether this sound, reminiscent of medieval battles fought by the likes of Maharana Pratap is one of the reasons behind the eternal love affair that the Banas seem to have with this bike.
Once on the move, the Electra feels quite nimble footed. You shift in the first and the generous torque begins casting its spell on you. The bike surges ahead with a thrust and confidence which I am very sure is unique to the Bullets. These days you have the luxury of having the shift lever and brake pedal in the right places, so, you can handle that force with ease. With those large, discontinued chunks of power at avail, you find yourself pitching ahead with great force and little assurance. Or at least you genuinely feel that way. Move out you pint! Every ounce of your body now sings in chorus with this savage-looking thing. And they actually move out, once they hear that legendary thump. Managing the bike in the city traffic is a breeze as enough torque is available even in higher gears to keep the bike rolling at low speeds with that lazy, low revving engine punching you mildly from down under. The bike manages to roll at speeds as low as 25-30 km/h in fifth gear. One glitch, however, is that the machine sometimes suddenly dies down for a moment and gets the life back in the very next one. This gives you a sudden jerk which is not a good thing to happen on the road; moreover, a newbie may get fooled to believe that he’s soon to run out of fuel. Addition of a fifth cog has made it really easy to keep the post-ton territories inhabited.
Ride quality on an Electra is on the firmer side. Gas shock-absorbers don’t help the stiff ride for a solo as the coils are too stiff to flex under the weight of a normal mortal. With a light rider on, they will officiate only in extreme cases of the bike landing in a deep pothole. That damper in no way helps your belly from being badly disturbed by those commonplace potholes. Ride improves dramatically once a pillion finds his place on the rear and the advantages offered by that damper become pretty evident.
The bike we tested came fitted with a large front disc. These discs are an optional accessory on a 350cc 18 bhp bike which is very capable of achieving speeds in excess of 100 km/h in a pretty short time and isn’t known for its deftness in handling. So the customers are given a chance to go ahead and play around with their lives. How such a big bike can do with drum brakes, which wear out at an express pace and go almost useless in rains is beyond my realm of logic. The disc installed on our bike provided it with a good stopping power, however, you feel like being on the hump of a camel if you firmly press-release the front brake lever. The front fork keeps rippling under the tank for a couple of following seconds. The rear suspension of the bike is too stiff, while the front is just too soft. This mismatch needs to be corrected as it renders the bike very unstable in the situations of emergency braking.
The two tone paint job doesn’t make much difference to those who realise that it’s a Bullet and won’t make you any more exclusive than that old standard bullet from 80’s (Except causing a little more trouble for Bullet bred Banas to shift gears). For those who look at the bike from a fresh perspective, it looks nice. There isn’t much aberration from the traditional classic Enfield styling. The curves and carvings are all the same. A whole bunch of body parts including front forks, crank-case cover, exhaust pipe, headlight, front and rear blinkers and RVMs have been treated with liberal amounts of chrome to keep that classic, retro style alive. The front headlight is now an all new multi focal, clear lens unit, improving the visibility at night many notches. The switchgear is of very good quality and seems to be borrowed from TVS Fiero.
To me, except of a few things like front disc, shift side, shock-absorbers, fifth cog and electric starter this Bullet doesn’t differ much from its ancestors from the 80’s. Mainly because it still has the same technologically hoary mill which leaks engine oil like men leak water. It is as refined as an Assamese’s English accent, keeps stalling for all the weird reasons in the world and makes an absolute waste of that enormous 350cc. But you know what? I have friends who own Bullets from late seventies and those machines have as healthy an engine as the new ones we buy from the Royal Enfield showrooms nowadays. That speaks about the strength of that archaic looking but almost indestructible mill.
I still don’t have any complaints with this Bullet after riding it thoroughly for days together; neither do I find it all that impressive to say a few good words about it. If you believe me when I say that I was an unbiased rider before I tested this bike, I am sorry to disappoint you by saying that I still am. Very honestly, everyone knows what virtues or vices are associated with this bike. Nobody in the world bought a Bullet because it returned great mileage, was very refined or handled beautifully. He did that for his passion for that machine, a feeling that is just too emotional to be governed or described by logic. For all that I could expect from a Bullet, I find myself back to square one with no complaints or compliments for this bike. So, now that you know how I feel, you can decide for yourself how good or bad the bike actually is.
No comments:
Post a Comment