Do not swear. I know I can’t, but I’m bursting to. The Triumph Street Triple R I’m running for the year is absolutely [insert your swear word of choice here] brilliant.
I was in love with it within a quarter-mile of riding it away from the office for the first time, and that only grew in the longer-than-usual commute home. And it grew some more on the slightly-shorter-than-yesterday commute back in this morning.
I was nervous before getting on the Striple for the first time, but now I’m back. The Triumph is the perfect partner for me right now. After a winter in my VW Transporter van, a CBR250 would feel quick so the Triple is otherworldly in terms of acceleration. It’s light, so no troubles for my still-iffy shoulder while I build back the wasted muscles. And it sounds absolutely fantastic when I open it up out of the villages and hamlets dotted along the path between work and home. My concerns have been rinsed away in a torrent of excitement.