Road test of AvintonCollector Roadster 2015 Her name was ROADSTER

back to the entrance hall. This time, I can't go back. I have to approach her. After all, it's also a question of honor. I learn its name: Roadster.

what struck me was the beast's overall appearance: racy, distinctive, slender, yet exuding an impression of power and balance. I ask her permission to get in. She doesn't react and lets me take the handlebars. The ignition is switched on, the starter starts up with a timid noise, and then suddenly there's a bass thump, vibrations and resonances. Then we realize that the engine is idling. The beauty willingly leaves her back to us, but lets us know in her deep voice that she's going to have to accept us.

a short tour of the surrounding roads. So, what can I say... this bike speaks to us. Yes, I know, you're going to think I've been smoking the carpet. But it's true. This bike speaks to us. It engages the senses: Sight, for its beauty; touch... for the warmth you feel rising against your leg (this is actually mentioned as a flaw in some tests, but I found it very useful). You know when your engine is up to temperature) ... for the vibrations that seem to rise delicately from the depths of the monster's entrails; and lastly, for your sense of hearing, with the raucous sound of the engine and the "clack" when the air intake valve above the dummy tank opens and closes, a few dozen centimetres from the muzzle.

the plumage is in keeping with the antlers. The angle seems easy. I say "seems" because I don't dare rush it. This isn't just any machine I've got in my hands. So it's best not to test its limits. Nevertheless, you can feel that precision is the order of the day, with the most intuitive mass transfer. It gives you confidence, but it's the respect that brakes... that brakes less hard than it does. It's equipped with a four-disc system. And I can tell you that a simple touch of the fingertip is enough to make your forehead stick into the visor. Metal tamed by two phalanges and dreams put into orbit by a twist of the wrist. That's all there is to it.

i take a few moments to get the hang of it, then turn the handle a little more. That's when I get a slap in the face. it pushes, it blows, it pulls and you can feel the horse snorting. He's eager to fight, but his rider isn't too reckless. Already, he's made a very strong impression for a few seconds. Then, after releasing the handle, I realize a detail that will convince me once and for all about this engine: I had only accelerated halfway...

stand and smile. Not a blissful smile, no, but something deeper. A sort of mixture between the pride of having tamed a wild animal, but knowing that it was very docile compared to what it was capable of giving. Finally, the beast had accepted me. Oh, there's no doubt that I'll still have to make a lot of effort to tame her completely. She always warns but never bites. She's exceptional and she knows it. Yet she doesn't talk down to me any more. She doesn't want to crush me, but accompany me to something else. A companion for travel and journeys. Inaccessible and docile. Wild and playful. A paradox spinning in a mind clouded by what it has just experienced, despite many years of road wear....

Esteban Hogger - Photo credit: P. Aventurier