“Dear Ross, would you like to join us in Morocco to test the all-new Triumph Tiger 900?” Now that is the kind of email I like to be welcomed by after just returning from a scorching Christmas break – in Morocco. Chilly January blues, be gone.
The adventure sector of motorcycling is the place to be right now, and most of the manufacturers are wading in with nostalgic revamps and new product launches. And as with other genres theses days the adventure moniker has become a tricky one to use as a blanket term.
It’s been the thick end of 20 years since Ewan and Charley ignited wanderlust in folk around the globe and yet the BMW GS is still the best selling motorcycle in the UK and across most of Europe. A bike mostly sold to people who’ll be very unlikely to ride through a muddy puddle, let alone sell-up and circumnavigate the globe. But, at least if one has an adventure motorcycle then the daydreams become that bit more real. Seemingly enough for the majority.
Triumph have been in the ADV game for decades too and perhaps eclipsed other manufacturers when it came to publicising this, in part thanks to the exploits of Ted Simon on his Tiger 100, way back in the 1970s. The current Tiger might have been born 20 years before Simon even set off and Triumph dine out on this heritage to this day but to their credit, producing adventure machines really is somewhat of a forté for the brand.
More recently the Tiger 800 has enjoyed an incredibly loyal following and to a degree Triumph were, along with BMW, having it away in the sort-of-mid-capacity adventure market. After KTM dumped the 990 the Austrian firm’s replacements edged toward the big Bertha end of the spectrum to compete with BMW. Some people bought V-Stroms, but most didn’t. Then Honda revived the Africa Twin (although that’s a big old thing and not really a middleweight at all), KTM pulled out all the stops with the 790 Adventure and Ducati dropped some cubes from the Mutlistrada and produced the highly acclaimed Multi’ 950. Then Yamaha completely fucked the job by finally launching a marvellous, true middleweight with no frills or electronics, for the cost of a round of drinks in Shoreditch.
On paper there are loads of options if you’re in the market for a seriously capable all-rounder with continent crossing credentials. Choosing the tool for the job from a spec sheet, fancy online presentation or 1000 word printed review is, I think, pretty much impossible. So you’d have to go and try a few before making up your own mind.
I can’t really help with that as such a decision is so personal. But what I can say is that currently, I wouldn’t buy any of the above. Not even the near perfect 1250 GS with it’s sublime Shiftcam engine. I’d go for a Tiger 900, and here’s why.
Admittedly I haven’t spent all that much time on the Tiger 800, but the couple of hours were at least on a varied mix of country lanes, sloppy bogs and fire trails during the media launch day for Triumphs Adventure Experience in South Wales – feature here.
The bike itself is a capable machine, much more so than its pilot at the time, but the truth is – I didn’t really like the Tiger 800 and much preferred its 1200cc big brother. The 799cc triple is so wonderfully refined but that to me is the issue. I’m attracted to the off-beat, wobbly and gurgling. Turbine smooth triples and four-bangers leave me cold. The next guy might hate clattery Ducatis and the like, and think I’m a weirdo. But that’s the beauty of motorcycles – there’s no one-size-fits-all. One thing Triumph did do though before making a radical change and potentially upsetting a loyal customer base, is carry out market research. Truck loads of it.
They canvassed Tiger owners and journalists along with riders of other marques. The resulting feedback demanded many things, but at near the top of the list was the requirement for an injection of character. In addition, anyone who’d taken a Tiger 800 off-road in any serious capacity would be familiar with the feeling of the rear tyre struggling for mechanical grip, especially when negotiating tricky terrain at low speed. The triple simply span-up too easily so any improvements to the feel and sensation of a new model needed to be backed up with a real-world step change in performance.
The new 900 powerplant isn’t just a rebore and stroke job, it incorporates a fresh concept – the T-Plane Crank. The crankshaft journals are configured to balance an irregular firing interval which although seemingly basic, makes all the difference. Bang, bang, pause, bang – to put it simply. In the 800 (and many triples) the firing pulses are evenly spaced and therefore harmonically balanced – the movement of each piston and rod being counteracted by the mass and inertia of another one going in the opposite direction, and the third being somewhere in-between to cancel out the imbalances of the first two. Still with me?
With the T-Crank the two outer cylinders balance each other but the rogue middle one – the T – requires a balancer shaft to smooth the whole thing out. If this makes no sense head to YouTube where there are loads of folk ready to send you to sleep with technical explanations of firing orders, crossplane vs flatplane, boxers etc etc. It’s messing with the interval rather than firing order that results in some of the best sounding engines ever made. You can blame me if you end up deep in the YouTube wormhole finding out which cars and bikes make the hairs on your neck stand up, and why.
It’s the aforementioned pause though that has three benefits. Firstly the rear tyre has a millisecond (I’m guessing, it would depend on loads of variables) where it’s awaiting drive and therefore the tread blocks have a chance to bite into the dirt before the next power pulse rotates it again, propelling the whole lots forward.
And where the 800 sounded and felt turbine whizzy the 900 feels more like a ‘proper’ motorcycle. Again, it’s subjective, but for me an amalgamation of spinning metal pieces combined with explosions should give a visceral sensation, as opposed to a slightly over-sanitised whir.
The byproduct of all of this, and of equal importance, is the exhaust note. The monotone throng is gone, replaced by something slightly more gutteral and thumpy. Sort of twin like, but with an appetite for quickly spooling up. Not though at the cost of civility, it’s still Roger Moore in silk pyjamas smooth. More on that in a minute.
The quest for more capacity hasn’t increased the engine’s external dimensions though. The three individual cylinder liners in the 800 were already close together and there wasn’t sufficient wall thickness to over-bore, or supportive strength in the block to hold wider barrels. So all three cylinders are siamesed, hewn from a single aluminium casting and finished with Nikasil coated bores. The upshot is no increase in knee-to-knee girth, which combined with a really slim saddle to tank interface makes for a reduced standover height and improved ergonomics. Essential when clambering around the machine off-road.
The potential Tiger 900 buyer must look themselves in the mirror and be honest – are you ever, ever going to ride over anything more than a slightly moist pothole? If the answer is no and you want a commuter with weekend touring potential you’ll need the regular Tiger 900. This is painted white and comes with non-adjustable Marzocchi suspension, a bunch of tech as standard and will cost you less than 10 grand. The latter sounds flippant but just look at how much technology is packed into this thing, for about the same price as a Honda CRF450L.
If you’re serious about touring and plan to pack a pillion, the kitchen sink and all the luggage from the Triumph Accessory catalogue then GT is your tool. This one also runs cast wheels but has manually adjustable Marzocchi suspenders this time. And if you smoked as a teenager there’s a stunted version with reduced suspension travel and an incredibly low seat.
Not satisfied with that and can’t bear the idea of turning a knob to adjust your preload? Go for the GT Pro version with electronic adjustment via the TFT dash and handlebar switchgear. All iterations of the GT are available in white, black or dog-knob-red – which isn’t my favourite colour for a motorcycle, let alone a Triumph. Or anything really, apart from British post boxes and F1 Ferraris. A dark blue or tungsten grey would have been nice. But hey, some people won’t ride a Ducati unless it’s red. It seems a petty point and one that’s of course subjective but Triumph build such accomplished bikes that I’d have expected a more diverse colour choice. But, hey, they did the research, not me.
The Rally version has been designed, engineered and developed by the team behind the Tramontana, a rally spec Tiger 800 that competed in the 2017 Panafrica Rally, piloted by the Lopez brothers. This duo are absolute weapons on a bike and their input along with the tough brief from Triumph’s top brass for the new 900 left the engineering team at Hinckley nowhere to hide. Myself and most off-roadists I know were happy to tell anyone that’d listen – “If Triumph would just build a proper Tramontana rep they’d sell a tonne of ’em.”
First off, the ground clearance had to be extended to offer improved off-road potential. At the same time it was specified that the motor would be lowered over 4cm in the frame, and canted forward nearly 7 degrees for improved low speed handling. Lowering the motor yet improving ground clearance, increased suspension travel without making the bike taller to sit on…. yeah, not exactly a logical set of parameters.
The solution is a simple one, drain some oil out and contain what’s left in a thinner sump. Along with revised engine cases and using magnesium to replace aluminium the overall weight of the new engine is down by a handy 2.5kgs. It pumps out 95 PS and does so 750 revs earlier than the 800 while torque is up 10%. Apparently the Tiger 900 is well fast compared to the ‘competition’, depicted during the presentation by a pointy graph but we weren’t privy to which other bikes that involved, rendering the facts only slightly more useful than ‘my dad could beat your dad in an arm wrestle’ playground chat.
The slightly more horizontally pitched engine mounting posed further issues for the suspension engineers. Extended wheel travel would likely smash the mudguard into the radiator so it was decided to split the heat exchanger in two, one either side – more like an enduro bike.
Seems like another simple fix but with one that comes additional bracketry, parts, welding processes, weight and cost. The radiator cores themselves are now in free flowing air and no longer impinged by the front wheel and mudguard being in the way. Which I presume has allowed them to be smaller and cumulatively weigh less than one big unit. The result looks purposeful and racy if nothing else. I should add that all models feature this engine and cooling package, it’s the same across the range but it’s the Rally versions that benefit most.
The Rally and Rally Pro are both fitted with tubeless Akront wire wheels (spokes on the edge of the rim) and Showa suspension. Lots of suspension. There’s a near motocross spec 240mm up front and 230mm out back, both manually adjustable – there’s no electronic wizardry going on here. Again, research showed that touring types like to flick through settings on screen while the more adventurous rider prefers manual screws and clickers. Plus the latter of course saves weight.
For me, styling is nailed on the Rally Pro with a white frame. White frames can make or break a look. Myself and most of the other journos on the launch agreed that this, combined with the matt khaki green looks the tits. And with a set of Pirelli Scorpion Rally knobblies fitted the Tiger 900 is a really handsome machine. This is not subjective, if you don’t agree then you’re simply wrong.
Brakes across the range are Brembo’s excellent Stylema radial calipers and jumbo (for an off-road bike) 320mm discs, pumped by a radial master cylinder/lever setup and kept in check with cornering ABS courtesy of a hyper-sophisticated IMU. There’s a new full colour TFT display with a dazzling array of viewing options and settings to fiddle with and there’s also GoPro integration (as first seen on the Scrambler 1200) as well as a turn-by-turn navigation courtesy of trick nav tool, What Three Words.
I confess to never having heard of the this and prepared myself to stifle powerpoint yawns during the presentation. But I was wrong. Essentially some boffins have divided the entire globe into 3m squares and designated each a unique, randomised three word combo. You type the words into your phone, paired with the My Triumph app, and bingo, it’ll direct you via the TFT display. Sounds like silly marketing wank, right? Well no. Imagine being in the mountains deep in Can’t-pronounce-istaan and you breakdown or break yourself. How to you tell someone where you are? Google maps isn’t accurate enough and requires cellular coverage. Lat and long coordinates are hard to ascertain sometimes and easy to make a tiny error, rendering them useless and dropping pins on other mapping software will only work if the brandy carrying St Bernard at the other end has the same software as you.
With WTT simply share Thick – Spam – Javelin or whatever you location is and a helicopter will come and scoop you up, Dakar style. Well, that’s a slightly simplistic and dramatic example. The UK emergency services are dialled into the app but I don’t know about other places. Meeting your pals at Stress – Plank – Vent (A.K.A. The Bike Shed) might be easier, then navigate to Nips – Flickers – Arena (Krazy Horse in Bury St. Edmunds) via little arrows on the dash. This sounds way better than messing about with regular and often clunky sat nav devices. Side note, even if you think this idea is gash, it’s quite fun is finding your house or office on What Three Words website or app. As 3 metre boxes are pretty small you’ll get a good few to choose from. We found Stuart Garner’s new bedroom, Thank – Tender – Causes.
Anyway, flipping heck, suffice to say there’s a truck load of tech and considered additions to the Tiger 900 that make motorcycling more pleasurable. If you’re a diehard ABS and traction control hater, I can’t help you. Please exit through the gift shop. For everyone else there’ll be a spec sheet link at the bottom as quite frankly my brain hurts trying to decipher all the variations. Back to the actual review, sorry.
Triumph have addressed the Tiger’s subframe too. Only an issue if you drop a Tiger 800 but there is potential to write the whole bike off as the pillion peg struts and whole rear subframe are welded to the main frame. A criticism the Street Scrambler 900 also suffered, remedied on the Scrambler 1200, which, like this new Tiger 900 has a bolt on aluminium unit. Much more sensible.
All-in-all the Tiger 900 is 5kgs lighter, better weighted, is faster, more powerful, sounds nicer and is way more handsome than the outgoing 800. Triumph claim a dry weight of 192 kg for the base model up to 201 kgs for the Rally Pro. The accuracy of manufacturers’ weights is a debate for another day. Those are the figures they’ve given, sit on one and guess for yourself.
The overall feel, fit and finish is inline with today’s Triumphs – top of the league. I didn’t make time to poke around the bolt-on accessory selection so check other reviews for info on these. And Bike Magazine will probably weigh one soon, stick it on a dyno and give it a run on the bullshit-o-meter. … Anyway, more waffle. How does it ride?
Well, thankfully Triumph continued with the tradition of launching Tigers in Morocco, and this time split ride locations – inland Marrakesh and the fishing port of Essaouira meaning we’d get nearly 3 full days of riding. A novelty these days when manufacturers sometimes cram 2 versions of a new model into a single day’s press event.
My first taste was the Rally Pro, which apart from my arms not being quite long enough to quite reach the bars without leaning forward, felt absolutely spot on. If I’d been so inclined I could have twisted the bars towards me by an inch or so. Which turns out the be the stock position on the GT (although the bars are a touch wider on the Rally). Everything else though comfort wise – absolutely perfect.
The Slip Assist clutch has a buttery actuation and featherlight pull. The gearbox swaps ratios with a slickness you’d struggle to better, I certainly don’t remember riding anything superior. Both models have the Shift Assist quick shifter which is pretty much foolproof. You need only feed the clutch lever out from stationary and then leave it alone. Still an alien concept for me but the reward is a near effortless riding experience, even at low speed. I tried to catch the ECU out with clumsy shifting in Marrakesh rush-hour-soup but it barely faltered, applying just the right sized blip on the downshift and chopping the spark at the crucial nanosecond on the way up. And the fuelling cannot be faulted. The 900 will pull cleanly from just above idle in 6th without so much as a hesitation up to top speed. I’m not sure what the official v-max is but I did try my best to find out.
Prior to that test I thought the slightly over complicated rev counter on the TFT display was broken, the coloured bars didn’t move very far. Turns out I was simply in a world of my own, lolloping along in a world of silky yet charismatic torque. Pin the ride-by-wire throttle to the stop though and the Tiger’s rabid alter ego turns up to the party. From about 6,000 rpm the gentle rumble transforms into an angry howl. The 94 horsepowers felt like the ideal amount. The Tiger is plenty quick enough to, in the right hands, hustle sports bikes yet doesn’t feel in the slightest bit intimidating. Sure, the electronics and rider modes reign-in danger considerably but it’s a perfectly manageable machine with everything turned off. And it’s even A2 compliant with a couple of quick mods, handy for new riders.
There is a pleasant note from the OEM pipe but it’s not really one to write home about, especially from the saddle. EU5 regs have smothered the sound engineer’s endeavours and riding in a decent lid with ear plugs and the thing might as well be Li-ion propelled. But, it doesn’t take much to imagine what the Tiger 900 would sound like unleashed. One wouldn’t want anything too boomy but something with a smaller cork and made from stainless or titanium would be great, and a few pounds lighter too.
Despite the long legs and tall front wheel the Rally version changes direction impressively well and remains composed. And fork dive isn’t excessive, even with the beautifully machined and powerful Stylemas grabbing those big discs. That said we didn’t get the chance to really press on as there seemed to be police on every stretch of newly surfaced roads and the launch organisers had already blown their pocket money on fines during the previous weeks’ recce runs. Actually I’m being overly polite. I was put in the slow group when I actually wanted to be with the naughty boys from Stand Up Wheelie Magazine et al. That said, we probably rode quicker than would be safe in the UK as the roads were bone dry, made from 40 grit sandpaper and errant goats aside visibility was uninterrupted.
After a (delicious) lunch stop I jumped on a GT Pro for direct comparison. The reduced height is of course noticeable and for me, at 5’10”, the bar position felt more comfortable for long days in the saddle. And the saddle is a peach, even after three days I don’t recall fidgeting once. With the smaller, cast wheels the GT is more flickable than it’s lanky brother, and doesn’t need heavy bar inputs to flick-flak through even the tightest of turns. The GT would be the perfect partner for a spring trip sweeping though The Alps.
But let’s be honest, the real reason I was excited to be in Morocco wasn’t to tickle around scenic mountain passes dodging speed traps – I wanted to ride off-road!
So on day 2 that’s exactly what we did. Five minutes after destroying the 187 option breakfast buffet we arrived at the first photo stop. I had hoped for a chilled 20 minute ride to let the after effects of the Moroccan Rioja (very agreeable I must say) wear off and allow my stomach settle – no such luck.
One thing that’s really annoying about press launches is the photography and videography being captured at the same time. The idea for us lot is to ride slowly enough to look good in the stills shots while making the snapper’s life easy, yet not appear to be off to the shops in the video footage just doesn’t work. I was fully laden with GoPros and had my multimedia hat on so I figured I’d blow the photography and go for it.
Head Instructor, Matt, from the Adventure Experience in the Breacon Beacons, South Wales was our lead rider for the day. He’s about as accomplished as it gets on a dirt bike, in fact he’s really bloody annoying to watch. Effortless. In a thick Welsh accent (Brynn from Gavin & Stacy will do) he suggested I should; “Make sure you’ve got-it-in off-roooad-moade, OK. Then pin the thrott-all to the stopp. Goh-tit?” That’s ABS nearly off and just a whiff of traction control. I trust Matt, having ridden with him before, and did as I was told. I fired the Tiger towards the cameras flatout and relied on the electronics keep me out of hospital.
Amazing! It should be called Hero Mode. Just enough TC to slide the rear with reckless abandon yet not enough to have the thing swap ends. I went as fast as valve bouncing in 1st gear is, across loose sand and in places boggy, silt yet felt in control the whole time. One thing that’s really bloody frustrating though is that if you turn the bike off it’ll return to base traction settings. I got caught by this a couple of times, stuck in Road Mode with the throttle pinned up a climb yet doing 10 MPH while the ECU and IMU gave it the full Charles Babbage to stop the rear spinning. Some of the other lads hit this snag too. Probably the sort of thing that one simply adjusts to after a few days of ownership, it’s hardly a dealbreaker.
Then we were treated to something a bit special, a ride along the beach. It was low tide and there was a 15 mile stretch of virgin sand to carve. Like a child high on Haribo I let loose. Again flat out, this time in Off-Road Pro (no TC or ABS) and in 2nd gear, drifting side to side, dancing on the pegs and trying the get sideways enough to bang the lock-stops and impress the cameras – there weren’t any! Two, far-too-brief reconnoissance runs later and I was ready for a rev limit bashing in 3rd. But the fun was cut short, we had to make way for the next group. I literally could have cried. These opportunities don’t come along often and it’d be high tide if we returned at the end of the riding day. Gutted!
Back on the road we headed inland for a some proper trail riding, river crossings and dusty tomfoolery. The Pirelli Scorpion Rally is Triumph’s rubber of choice, and I have no complaints. Combined with Off-Road Mode they offered grip by the shovel full. Continuing the whisky throttle riding style from the photo-stops I leant on the electronics more and more. The system works fantastically well and at no point feels intrusive. It doesn’t just chop the power like older systems did, and some less refined ones still do. Instead the IMU and ECU work in harmony to allow only the correct amount of ponies to the rear wheel at all times.
I gave up playing around trying to catch it out and turned switched to Off-Road Pro Mode and relied on instinct and skill. Admirable stuff but constantly concentrating so as to adjust throttle inputs and blend the back brake is knackering, especially if you’re as un-bike-fit as me. I’ll also admit to not feeling particularly special in the digestion department either. It wasn’t quite a case of shit running down into my boots but suffice to say it was close and I had to have a flat Coca-Cola and little lay down at the lunch stop. I thought my day was done. Obviously the other lads didn’t take the piss at all, and were most sympathetic.
The nap worked and the afternoon’s trails consisted of hard, dusty, rutty tracks peppered with rocks ranging from fists to footballs in size. We did have a travelling medical car somewhere on the route but I didn’t fancy a go in the back, or Moroccan hospital, so flicked back to regular Off-Road Mode and stayed there for the remainder of the day. Which simply made the whole experience more fun. Belting through the ever changing countryside with a great bunch of guys and importantly, thrashing someone else’s motorcycle.
Which sounds twatty and ungrateful, but it’s not. I’m just as precious as the next guy when it comes to my own bikes and ride with one ear open to new rattles and noises whereas on press launch you just ride with abandon (not reckless abandon though) and evaluate the machine beneath, safe in the knowledge that if you smash one to pieces or just snap a lever the tail rider would gift you his mount and then sit and wait for the sweeper truck. Legend and multi-time enduro champ Paul Edmondson was our rear gunner, and he’s a good bloke having as much fun as us, so we looked after our steads. Well, one of the group tucked the front and snapped a clutch lever, but no biggie. As I mentioned earlier, the Tiger barely needs one of those anyway. Witnessing Dave’s rolling starts and prowess in the tight stuff was well worth the crash damage. So, thanks ****y 😉
Pummelling across an orange moonscape the engine’s T-plane crank really came into it’s own. The spread of torque and impeccable fuelling made riding at pace or traversing nadgery stuff at walking speed a complete breeze. Admittedly it wasn’t the most challenging terrain I’ve encountered but it was for sure way more than most buyers will experience. Which again sounds a bit twatty but these types of bikes so rarely get fully utilised, especially in places like the UK which isn’t exactly the Sahara or Mongolian Steppe.
I’d also use ease and refined to describe the suspension. No matter how hard we hit the boulders, quite often aiming at them for a little bunny hop launch, the Showa fork and shock lapped it up and beckoned for more. I didn’t faff with my settings as I figured the launch technicians had spent weeks dialling in the ideal setup to try and impress the world’s most opinionated and pernickety bunch of riders and therefore know a damn sight more than I do. I found whatever there’d done to be spot on and I genuinely tried to give the poor Triumph a really hard time. I couldn’t find any jumps sizeable enough to bottom the thing out and even mistimed wheelie attempts over obstacles were met with cosseting reassurance.
And as for the weight, what weight? To me the bike felt like a fat yet taught enduro machine. It can be ridden through the pegs and I never found myself wrestling the bars or holding on tight. The frame, front of the saddle and fuel tank in the areas where one grips with the legs is free from awkward protrusions or slips in the designers’ concentration. Comfy and considered.
Can you tell, I quite like the Tiger 900.
On the 2nd night in Essaouira I confused the hotel chef once more by trying to explain that fish and chicken were in fact meat and that veganists don’t get excited by extra soft burrata. 6 bread rolls followed by a pizza with nothing on, then more local Rioja and I felt suitably carb loaded for another day in the saddle. Triumph’s plan to use journos to ferry bikes back and forward between the coast and Marrakesh seemed at the outset as mildly annoying but in reality I was rather grateful not to have my surmising of the Tiger 900 rushed.
Google Maps suggested the route back would be a dull motorway slog. But there’s no such thing as boring in Morocco. Riding through the crustiest of villages and towns is a marvel if, like me, you rubberneck at 70s and 80s French cars, Ford Transit vans from the same era and generally enjoy observing how folk from other cultures go about their day.
Isle of Man TT weapon Gaz Johnson led our group which offered the fizz we missed on day one. At a slightly more enthusiastic pace the Tiger 900 (Rally Pro on road tyres in this case) shone and I was really enjoying myself. Coming to the conclusion that, not for the first time, I felt that it’s not until the third day that you gel with a bike as if it were your own. We had definitely bonded and I was genuinely not looking forward to swapping the saddle for a plane seat.
With cruise control set and the Atlas Mountains jutting out of the horizon I tried to imagine owning a Tiger 900, and I didn’t have to try very hard – very hard at all in fact. Yes there are bigger bikes with more continent crushing capabilities but to me a Tiger 1200, or BMW GS are big old things which command slightly more respect and require a touch more planning. I don’t just mean in terms of a trip in itself but in how you approach the tiny bits that make up a memorable trip. Of course there are some that can make a quarter tonne iron horse dance as if it were a 125cc trials bike but that’s not me. And if you’re reading this it’s very unlikely to be you either. I’d have no qualms about spinning the Tiger on a dime to u-turn or scooping it up after a drop but more importantly I’d happily just fire myself and the Tiger at the horizon content that together we’d pen some tall tales of adventure and high jinx.
What I liked about the Tiger 900 is that although cosseted by electronics more capable than my motor skills will ever be, it was that flash of Ted Simon’s adventures that kept popping into my head. Sure, you’re not going to find a deer herder on the Road of Bones who’ll be able to repair the thing and most of the world Simon saw is now totally fucked but as soon as this Covid disaster has passed I’ll be asking Triumph if they’ve got a 900 going spare. Three days is simply insufficient to conduct a thorough review, I need three months. Or years……
Click on these to view, they’ve come out a bit small. My phone is shite.
FULL spec here.
There would be a Tiger 900 video review uploaded by now if it had not been for sound recording equipment letting us down, again! Sorry!
Suit – Acerbis Enduro Jacket & Pant
Boots – Alpinestar Tech 10
Helmet – Bell MX-9 Adventure