I recently descended a mountain road on my Aprilia Tuono. I’ve done that thousands of times of course but this time I did something I haven’t done in a very long time. I descended the entire hill, about 15 KMs, in stealth mode. Aprilias have a secret mode known only to those lucky enough to have owned one. Yes, there are still secrets in this world unknown to Google and in a world first, I’m exposing the presence of this exclusive feature. I do this despite death threats by fanatic Aprilisti whose extreme interpretation of the Owner’s manual requires them to keep this feature a secret. But I’m encouraged by the show of support by the overwhelming majority of “moderates” in our little community too. There’s fanatics and moderates in every cult I’m told.
I joke of course. Stealth mode is as old as motorcycling itself. The very first motorcycle produced was installed with stealth mode.
I joke of course. Stealth mode is as old as motorcycling itself. The very first motorcycle produced was installed with stealth mode.
A Classic Stealth Mode Switch
On all bikes, Stealth mode can be invoked by simply sticking it in neutral and switching off the engine while the bike is moving. Some smart manufacturers have provided value added implementations though.
On Ducatis, stealth mode can be activated by simply riding past your local café. The self-learning ECU senses it is being ridden beyond its design brief and immediately cuts ignition.
KTMs on the other hand engage stealth mode if ridden in homosexual fashion. And I don’t mean riding it from the back seat with your mouth open, I mean KTMs hate being ridden at anything other than full throttle and any pussy footing provokes the ultra-sensitive ECU to cut power to the hate capacitor. KTMs die without hate.
Jap bikes resist stealth mode like wild, unbroken horses. They just want to run and run and run till they die of exhaustion.
On Ducatis, stealth mode can be activated by simply riding past your local café. The self-learning ECU senses it is being ridden beyond its design brief and immediately cuts ignition.
KTMs on the other hand engage stealth mode if ridden in homosexual fashion. And I don’t mean riding it from the back seat with your mouth open, I mean KTMs hate being ridden at anything other than full throttle and any pussy footing provokes the ultra-sensitive ECU to cut power to the hate capacitor. KTMs die without hate.
Jap bikes resist stealth mode like wild, unbroken horses. They just want to run and run and run till they die of exhaustion.
A Modern Stealth Mode switch
Anyway, Stealth mode is no secret but it’s not something riders use very often and many never use it at all. It doesn’t seem particularly exciting until you smoke some thinking smoke and really visualize it. Stealth Mode, freewheeling, coasting, whatever you want to call it, is to motorcycling what gliding is to flying. Pure, Raw and eco-friendly. No Traction Control, No ABS, No Engine.
So, recently heading down MacPass, I switched the engine off on a whim. Just for the fuck of it. What followed reminded me of the days back in uni when a group of us used to ride down mountains on our shitty, Indian made motorcycles, in the dark, with the engine and lights switched off. First one down the mountain won and stopping or switching the lights on copped an immediate disqualification and permanently destroyed your chances of getting a root with a woman of any kind. It was an extreme fucking sport. It required balls, skill, concentration, balls and a lot of fucking luck. I once nearly ran into the back of a leopard coming round a corner. Only saw him when I was 2 feet away. We both shat ourselves but I think his nuggets were bigger and more plentiful.
So, recently heading down MacPass, I switched the engine off on a whim. Just for the fuck of it. What followed reminded me of the days back in uni when a group of us used to ride down mountains on our shitty, Indian made motorcycles, in the dark, with the engine and lights switched off. First one down the mountain won and stopping or switching the lights on copped an immediate disqualification and permanently destroyed your chances of getting a root with a woman of any kind. It was an extreme fucking sport. It required balls, skill, concentration, balls and a lot of fucking luck. I once nearly ran into the back of a leopard coming round a corner. Only saw him when I was 2 feet away. We both shat ourselves but I think his nuggets were bigger and more plentiful.
His nuggets
The rolling hills of the NSW southern highlands are devoid of leopards, which robs them of some mystique but not having the fear of running into a leopard does have its advantages when you’re on a motorcycle. Anyway, my run down MacPass was no extreme sport. In fact, it was the opposite, calming and quite meditative. The whirr of the chain and the whoosh of the front disks scraping the brake pads were the only sounds I heard till I picked up some speed and even those little sounds were drowned by the air rushing past my ears. And I picked up some speed all right! Heading down the steep mountain, I quickly realized how many components of motorcycle dynamics I actually invoke (consciously or otherwise) while going through a single corner. I usually charge corners pretty hard, brake late and hard, dig that front wheel into the tarmac, chuck the bike on its side, maintain positive throttle while leaned over to keep the bike settled then roll on the power progressively while exiting the corner. But this no-throttle malarkey forced me to re-think my riding style. Braking late and hard was very abrupt on the chassis and I had to be ultra-sensitive while trail braking to avoid suddenly unloading the front tyre. It also lost me too much speed once the corner was over. I found braking early and progressively helped reduce speed gently and kept the bike more settled through the corner. Trail braking smoothly, deep into corners, allowed me to maximise corner speed. It was pretty bizarre at first not having the throttle to settle the bike and control speed. As motorcyclists, we rely on all our limbs and most of our digits to take a single corner at speed, the left hand feathering the clutch for quick gear changes and smooth acceleration, left foot changing gears, right foot lightly dabbing the rear brake occasionally and the right hand judiciously controlling throttle and the front brake. Compare that with free-wheeling down a mountain where you’re relying solely on 2 (or 1!) fingers of your right hand to control EVERYTHING. If you want a crash course in trail braking, try invoking stealth mode down a steep mountain road. You have no option but to be pretty damn good at it!
There is something poetic about freewheeling, it has to be said. As much as I love the booming of the big V-twin, feeling it pulse through the chassis and propel me forward urgently, there is a unique magic in descending a mountain pulled along in silence solely by gravity. A conflicted, simultaneously “whooping with joy” and “closing your eyes and smelling the pines” kind of magic.
I plan to experience it more often.
But before you suggest I start wearing lycra, let me remind you I still want a screaming beast of an engine between my 2 wheels. For whatever comes down, must go up again and I aint pushin that muthafucka up the hill!
There is something poetic about freewheeling, it has to be said. As much as I love the booming of the big V-twin, feeling it pulse through the chassis and propel me forward urgently, there is a unique magic in descending a mountain pulled along in silence solely by gravity. A conflicted, simultaneously “whooping with joy” and “closing your eyes and smelling the pines” kind of magic.
I plan to experience it more often.
But before you suggest I start wearing lycra, let me remind you I still want a screaming beast of an engine between my 2 wheels. For whatever comes down, must go up again and I aint pushin that muthafucka up the hill!
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