KTM 390 Duke- As popular and mainstream as KTM motorcycles have now become, there’s still one place you’ll never find a luminous orange Austrian: in the middle of the road.
But the longer KTM occupies the fringes of thinking and fashion with each subsequent model release, the wider its fanatical following becomes. Which means it won’t be long before the middle of the road is in the gutter, and orange is the new black.
What a topsy-turvy tangerine-flavoured world we live in. I digress.
Steve Martin’s Triumph Bobber launch report in the previous issue (Vol 66 No 20) left me wondering why, in all the bike launches I have attended, I’ve never been fed any revelationist nuggets of opinion by my temporary neighbours en route. I’d figured it was due to my unfortunately menacing brow line, until this trip to Italy.
Constantine, my 55-year-old Greek fellow row-thirty-sevener, also a life-long motorcyclist, reckoned bikes like the KTM Duke that I was about to sample were in no way designed for an old fella like him. He’d recently purchased a 2016 Suzuki SV650, and claimed it was a far better meld of metal for his age group’s tastes – a classic aesthetic, with modern, reliable running gear. Then, whipping out his phone, he showed me a picture of the bike he said he’d like to build when – or if – he becomes bored with his loveable but self-evidently middle-of-the-road ride. The picture was of an SV650, customised in the post-apocalyptic-urban-pseudo-scrambler style, and looking every bit the city-punk conceptual project bike. I couldn’t help but think it looked a lot like something KTM – but more likely badged as a Husqvarna, the formerly Scandinavian side of the company’s styling schizophrenia – would be proud and extremely likely to produce. I told him he was as mad as haloumi, and we laughed a volley of red wine at each other until we landed.
Constantine is just the kind of guy who KTM’s half-pint-sized Duke 390 is perfect for. A humble, fun-loving, tech-curious, everyday motorcyclist with simple means and needs, and not the slightest sign of a dick complex. Power is not the way to glory. And the sooner that moderately talented riders – that’ll be the majority then – realise that LAMS bikes aren’t just for LAMS riders, the happier and safer they’ll be, especially when riding in the big city.
Slashing through tin-top terrain and burning off all traffic light challengers is what the little Duke dons its robes for every morning. Its economical proportions are matched by a scant thirst for fossils, then combined with a thumper’s punch and craft-knife cornering. This fine balance of prudence and pugnacity is what makes the Duke a first-class commuter. KTM has recognised the Duke 390 won’t be chosen purely for its attitude, and has added practical versatility with tank bag and tail pack options in the Power Parts catalogue. These, like all the KTM genuine accessories I’ve had a chance to ogle and fondle, are top-notch quality kit and well thought out.
Kato Chasey
Turin, at the foot of the western Italian Alps, was the launch pad for the 390 Duke. Our hotel was in the former factory which produced the original Fiat 500, and some of the best car-chase footage ever, for the film The Italian Job.
Our test ride began with a spin up the spiral ramp to the unbelievable rooftop test track and a blast around its steep banking. Then it was time for a cruise across town to the city’s skate park, for yet more skids and wheelies in the most unlikely and usually illegal of locations. There, the Duke’s light, slick and dextrous controls coaxed a rash of playful riding that would continue up into the snow-capped Italian Alps and all the way back.
Busting out of Torino only to find the motorway to the mountains at a standstill, our concourse of orange eye-candy split the stationary traffic like a gang of youths running through a crowded shopping mall. And the reaction to our arrival from within the cars and on the pavements wasn’t one of haughty distain, but one of excitement, interest and understanding. Just one of the many reasons to love Italy.
Although the mountain pass we traversed had deteriorated to bare gravel interspersed with man-sized potholes approaching the snowline, riders of all skill levels revelled in the high stakes game of skid-turn-squirt. Such is the confidence instilled by the Duke’s diminutive geometry and progressive power. Some let the full ABS provide a safety net, others hung it out in Supermoto mode, but all had a ride to remember. And more importantly, none had a ride they’d rather forget.
That’s the joy of the 390 Duke. It brings out the naughty kid in you, without making you feel you’re at risk of getting caned.
Growing up
If you are thinking that Duke Junior looks a lot like the MY17 1290 Super Duke R, you’d be thinking the bleeding obvious. Not only has the side profile been cut out of the same sharper CAD cloth as its 1301cc Beastly big brother, it also wears the same haunting split-face LED headlight design inspired by a faceless masonry monk in an Austrian mountain village.* The family resemblance with Daddy Duke has certainly transformed Baby Duke into a wholly more serious and adult-looking bike. Where the previous 390 had a toy-like airy-fairyness to its design, its successor has the presence of a true heir to the throne of thrust, still held triumphantly by the Beast.
At last, the benefits of ride-by-wire throttle have trickled down to the sub-500cc market, bringing even greater efficiency to the most economical bikes on the road. In the 390 Duke’s case, however, any small gains in fuel economy have been cancelled out by a 12kg increase in wet weight. Part of that weight hike does come from the extra 2.4 litres now squeezed into its new 13.4-litre fuel tank, giving the MY17 390 Duke a range superior to the previous model. KTM’s crew claimed 350km plus is achievable, and my observations of the fuel gauge would back this up.
The new Duke is a tale of ups. Up goes the ground clearance by 15mm, seat height is up by 30mm to 830mm, dry weight is up 10kg to 149kg (thanks largely to the addition of a Euro 4 compliant side-mounted silencer), front brake disc size is up to a class-leading 320mm, and torque is up by 5.7 per cent. Departing momentarily from this theme, wheelbase is down by 10mm to a hypodermically sharp 1357mm. So short, in fact, that the wheels are painted different colours to ensure they’re put in the correct end of the bike.
Changing the chassis to a bolt-on rear subframe design is a plus for any bike in my opinion. The vast majority of crash damaged frames thrown on the scrap heap are disposed of purely because the seat supporting structure has been tweaked out of line. No big deal if someone’s insurance is taking care of it, but a pain in the arse if you are left to fix and pay for it yourself.
This new frame will also become an update on KTM’s Supersport 300 production class contender, the RC390, which is a very good thing since a replaceable subframe makes even more sense on a racebike. To prove this point, I have just finished constructing a 1:5 scale model of the Sydney Harbour Bridge using only the subframes I’ve trashed in the past 30 years*.
One issue that both the previous Duke and current RC390 suffer is a lack of sufficient shock damping to adequately control the rear end. This results in a chassis imbalance which is the Achilles heel of an otherwise sweet-handling package. KTM has addressed this problem with a complete suspension overhaul on the 2017 Duke 390.
The new WP rear damper may look like a regular emulsion shock, but it contains what WP calls separate piston technology – essentially a gas shock, with the nitrogen-filled upper shock body separated from the damper rod, valving and oil by a second floating piston. This provides the much-needed extra support at the rear, and far more consistent damping over a wide temperature range. Revised spring rates and damping have also been lavished on the front end, which is now working in harmony with the rear rather than fighting like two hyperactive kids on a seesaw.
It’s a massive improvement on the old model, and even overshadows the suspension of its ‘sportier’ RC390 stablemate.
Like the RC, the new Duke boasts a 320mm disc – up from 300mm – and what felt to me like revised brake pad material. More bite, better feel, greater stopping power, and less chance of disc distortion. It’s a win win win win situation.
I’m also glad to report that Bosch’s ABS calibration is firmly at the unobtrusive end of the scale, and well refined for such a relatively affordable model. However, should the denial of your god-given right to pull massive skids be an affront to your sensibilities, as it is to mine, the people at KTM understand this. Of course they do. So they’ve equipped the Duke with Supermoto mode. This liberates the rear wheel from the shackles of the Nanny State to drift with abandon, while the front end continues in full anti-lock mode. You can also switch ABS off completely, at which point the dash leaves you in no doubt of your naughtiness by flashing ‘NOT LEGAL!’.† Thanks Kato, now shut up and let’s go do some skidz.
Another highlight of the new Duke 390 is the full-colour TFT – again a first in the sub-500cc saloon. It’s certainly big, bright, bold and intelligently laid out, but I couldn’t help thinking it looked out of place amid the sheer pointiness of the Duke’s overall styling. Like someone had just plonked a television on the top triple clamp. Can’t argue with how well it works though. For an entry-level motorcycle, it’s a premium piece of equipment. As well as displaying all the current information you would hope for in a clear and easy-to-read format, it has automatic brightness control and Bluetooth connectivity to your smart phone via the optional KTM My Ride function. This pairs your compatible mobile phone or audio device, allowing you to see incoming calls and audio information displayed on the dash, as well as answer calls and select tracks using the bike’s menu switch on the left switchblock. But none of this compares to the squeal of delight sparked by seeing the digital tacho dial gradually change from cool blue into racy red as you wring every last rev out of the little Beast. If you haven’t got a natural feel for engine revs, this will teach you. And it’s noticeable enough that you won’t have to stare at the dash when you should have your eyes on the road.
Thinking desperately of something to dislike about the Duke, I can only come up with small niggles. Navigating the streets of Torino in heavy traffic had the cooling fan running on overtime. Not a bad thing, as it seems to be set to kick in nice and early, and the Duke never even got close to overheating. But the fan is a noisy little bugger, and sounds like a slightly muffled World War II air raid siren. Times that by 10 Dukes, and it’s a wonder the nonni weren’t diving for cover at every intersection.
My other minor grumble is the seat. Not because it’s taller than the previous model – I can still get both feet firmly on the ground. And not because it lacks comfort – KTM has gone to a lot of trouble designing this seat to be the best little butt sanctuary in its class. It’s just a little bit too aggressively tilted forward for my liking. This made me slide down the seat too easily, forcing me to regularly adjust my position to alleviate the combined wedgy and crushed macadamias threatening me with every jab of the brakes. Of course my unique anatomy and the architecture of my trousers could be partly to blame for this, so I can’t be too damning.
Although there is a lot of the old Duke here, this is a genuinely new KTM contender in the increasingly ferocious battle for the welterweight street-fighting crown. And it’s going to take some beating.
Being most definitely a street lover, and not a fighter, I do cringe just a little at my own heavy use of violent verse to describe a motorised two-wheeled personal transportation device. But, even a cynical soft-sap like me can see the intent and inert aggressive energy translated in KTM’s intrinsically feisty design philosophy. Any bike in orange now looks like it wants to bite you. And perhaps it’s because the thought of being bitten can bring such strong feelings of both fear, and excitement – speaking purely from personal experience – that the look works so well.
Come on little Kato. Bite me.
* Total bullshit † Fair dinkum!
TEST Paul Young PHOTOGRAPHY KTM
