[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”no” equal_height_columns=”no” menu_anchor=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=”” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_position=”center center” background_repeat=”no-repeat” fade=”no” background_parallax=”none” parallax_speed=”0.3″ video_mp4=”” video_webm=”” video_ogv=”” video_url=”” video_aspect_ratio=”16:9″ video_loop=”yes” video_mute=”yes” overlay_color=”” video_preview_image=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding_top=”” padding_bottom=”” padding_left=”” padding_right=””][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ layout=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” border_position=”all” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding_top=”” padding_right=”” padding_bottom=”” padding_left=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” center_content=”no” last=”no” min_height=”” hover_type=”none” link=””][fusion_text columns=”” column_min_width=”” column_spacing=”” rule_style=”default” rule_size=”” rule_color=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=””]

I’ve got an embarrassing confession to make: I’m a slow motorcycle rider. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy some brisk acceleration, but I’m not out there dragging knees and throwing up dank wheelies. In all reality, I push my car way harder than my bike. There’s a lot of reasons for that, but primarily I’m just a big sissy. But I don’t ride motorcycles because to be the fastest thing out there. Sure, I like being able to leave traffic behind, but that’s never been the point. For me, motorcycling has always been about taking the purest essence of driving, that surreal melding of man and machine, and then cooking it down, and injecting it straight into my spine.

That’s why I was so smitten with the Royal Enfield Int 650. It gave me back that pure joy, without any of the frippery or pretensions. It was just…nice.

[Disclaimer: Engle Motors of Kansas City, MO generously provided the motorcycle and a full tank of fuel https://www.englemotors.com/]

[/fusion_text][fusion_imageframe image_id=”274672″ max_width=”” style_type=”” blur=”” stylecolor=”” hover_type=”liftup” bordersize=”” bordercolor=”” borderradius=”” align=”none” lightbox=”no” gallery_id=”” lightbox_image=”” alt=”” link=”” linktarget=”_self” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_direction=”left” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_offset=””]https://hooniverse.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/IMG_2113_.jpg[/fusion_imageframe][fusion_text columns=”” column_min_width=”” column_spacing=”” rule_style=”default” rule_size=”” rule_color=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=””]

Also, it’s called the Int 650 here, but the Interceptor 650 in other countries, so I’m just going to call it the Interceptor for the rest of the article. Yes, I know it’s physically labeled as Int 650, but come on. How rad does it feel to say, “I think I’m taking the Interceptor out today”? Right.

Royal Enfield’s history is a bit complicated, as they are, or were, an English company, that started shipping bikes to India, and eventually licensed a company there to begin building new motorcycles there under the Royal Enfield name. Eventually in the 1970s, the British company folded like so many others, leaving just their Indian brethren to continue on the name. That Indian branch is still thriving today, and is now churning out new models, and exporting them worldwide. So India is building bikes under an English name, and selling them back to England. Is that irony? Poetry? I’m not sure.

[/fusion_text][fusion_imageframe image_id=”274667″ max_width=”” style_type=”” blur=”” stylecolor=”” hover_type=”liftup” bordersize=”” bordercolor=”” borderradius=”” align=”none” lightbox=”no” gallery_id=”” lightbox_image=”” alt=”” link=”” linktarget=”_self” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_direction=”left” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_offset=””]https://hooniverse.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/IMG_2076_.jpg[/fusion_imageframe][fusion_text columns=”” column_min_width=”” column_spacing=”” rule_style=”default” rule_size=”” rule_color=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=””]

I know some of you right there are going to write the bike off, and go to close this window because you saw it was made in India. Yes, I understand that. I’ve spent some time in the manufacturing world, and “made in India” does not always bode well for rigorous quality control, it’s true. But nowhere on the Enfield did I see any signs of sloppiness or shoddiness. There’s a few points where you can tell things were built to a budget, as I’ll get into later, but the overall fit and finish was excellent, and easily comparable to bikes coming out of Japan.

The Interceptor is a class of motorcycle that doesn’t really exist anymore. These days, everything is hyper specialized to carve out some microniche in the market. While Royal Enfield does make some more specialized machines, the Interceptor is just a motorcycle. It’s not a sportsbike, it’s not a cruiser, it’s not a chopper, it’s not an enduro, it’s not a bagger, it’s not an adventure bike. It’s just a standard motorcycle.

The Interceptor 650, as you can probably guess, has a 650cc engine. It’s a twin, which means just two cylinders. See, motorcycle lingo is fun! As things would happen to shake out, my own motorcycle, the venerable Suzuki SV650, also has a 650cc twin, which gives me a solid point of comparison.

[/fusion_text][fusion_imageframe image_id=”274663″ max_width=”” style_type=”” blur=”” stylecolor=”” hover_type=”liftup” bordersize=”” bordercolor=”” borderradius=”” align=”none” lightbox=”no” gallery_id=”” lightbox_image=”” alt=”” link=”” linktarget=”_self” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_direction=”left” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_offset=””]https://hooniverse.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/IMG_1940_.jpg[/fusion_imageframe][fusion_text columns=”” column_min_width=”” column_spacing=”” rule_style=”default” rule_size=”” rule_color=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=””]

One of the first things that struck me on the Enfield was the riding position. You don’t don’t slump back in a recliner like on a cruiser, or crouch down like a chihuahua humping a pillow like on a sportsbike, you sit bolt upright like a thing on another thing. The gas tank narrows where your knees meet it, and the combination of the two things almost made me feel like I was on a scooter. Upright seating position, legs relatively close together, it all flows together into making a very utilitarian package.

At some point, you’re going to look at the statistics of the bike, and get all out of sorts. So let’s be honest: the Interceptor isn’t exactly the fastest thing on two wheels. It pumps out 47 horsepower from its parallel twin engine, which is certainly enough to scoot it along. But just for reference, my 13 year old bike, with the same number of cylinders and the same displacement, makes 73. So the Enfield is down by a third right out of the gate.

But I don’t see that as a negative, it just requires some cognitive reframing. Every automotive blogger likes to preach the mantra of “slow car fast”, which is that it’s more fun to have a car that you can use 100% of the performance of a majority of the time, instead of an overpowered car where you never go near the throttle for fear of prison or death. The Interceptor can be viewed in that same light.

On some modern sportbikes, if you ever get into the meaty haunches of the powerband, in any gear, you’re at extra-legal speeds. On the Interceptor, I went absolute pinned open full throttle, in three gears in a row, just to merge onto the highway. That sounds like a weird thing to be happy about, but there it is. Everyone always talks about how shifting gears themselves is so integral to the motoring experience, but to really embrace that, get yourself with something with lower power and lower revs, where you play on that shifter all day. It’s a motorcycle. Play around with it.

But it being on the lower end of the power spectrum (dips on that name for my thrash metal band) also means that it is incredibly unintimidating to ride. I’d also been curious if that would hinder it on the highway, but the Interceptor pulled to interstate speeds easily, and cruised comfortably at 70 miles per hour with plenty of revs to spare.

While you can absolutely hustle it along, eking out every ounce of acceleration, it’s just as happy to chill out for a second, man. Everything on the Enfield is just a bit softer and more mellow than on my bike. The brakes are plenty effective, but both of them are missing that aggressive initial bite. This makes dealing with city riding way less stressful. The clutch as well required a bit more slip, and a bit more revs than I was used to. Everything doesn’t need to be a drag launch, just chill out and let it roll. It’s cool, man. Everything’s fine.

Somewhat embarrassingly, I frequently found myself in way too low of a gear on the highway, entirely by accident. On motorcycles, I tend to not pay much attention to the physical gauges, and instead go by gut gauges in regards to revs and speed. As in “yeah, this feels about fast enough”, or “I should probably shift”. When you’re trying to prevent that white CR-V (why is it always a white CR-V?) from murdering you, you need your eyes up, not down looking at silly things like “numbers”. Numbers, who needs ’em? So anyways, I’d be cruising along at 6,000 RPM or so, which in sixth gear on my SV650 is right about 70 miles per hour, when I’d notice that at 6,000 on this, my mirrors were getting a lot of vibration. Then I’d finally remember that the Interceptor redlines about 3,000 RPM lower than my SV. So I wasn’t really in sixth gear, instead it was more like fourth. Whoops.

While I didn’t have a lot of time to put the bike through its paces, we did spend a bit of time running up and down some tight switchbacks for photos, and the Interceptor was impressive here as well. Now, as I’ve said, I’m not a very aggressive rider, but on the Enfield, I quickly started to get more comfortable with leaning it farther and farther. It was there holding my hand telling me “it’s ok buddy, you’ve got this. We can do it together.” Sure, I wasn’t hanging off dragging a knee, but for a bike I’d been on for half an hour, on a road I didn’t know, I was surprised at how quickly the confidence grew.

The suspension was also much better than expected at tolerating our terrible roads. My first experience riding the Interceptor was in the West Bottoms of Kansas City, which is the decidedly unglamorous former stockyards district. Picture turn of the century semi-abandoned warehouses and railyards. The roads there are exactly as good as you’d imagine. Add that to regular Midwestern freezes, and we have potholes aplenty. But the Interceptor handled most of it remarkably well. Individual bumps were soaked up without much complaint, although steady rough washboard type surfaces could definitely set things jiggling. I’m not sure how much of that is due to the remote reservoir rear shocks, but they look pretty trick, so I’ll give them the credit. They’re not Öhlins, but they kind of look like them. Make yourself some Bröhlins stickers and run with it.

As for complaints, I really don’t have many. Plus, most concerns I do have are easy to brush aside by nature of the price. Now, I tend to not discuss prices in reviews because 1) I don’t know or care about your budget, and b) that shit’s boring, but on the Royal Enfield, we really have to talk about it. The Interceptor 650 starts at $5,799 for a bike with ABS and fuel injection. That alone makes almost any complaints about equipment irrelevant. For a bit of comparison, to get a new Suzuki SV650 with ABS, you’re spending $7,499. A Honda CB500F with ABS is $6,499. Ok, the Suzuki makes more power, but it’s still a 650cc twin. The Honda is a smaller engine but similar power figures. A grand or two doesn’t mean anything in the world of cars, but when that’s 10% or more of the entire cost of the motorcycle, it becomes significant.

But if I didn’t nitpick, this would just be an ad. The mirrors are a bit wonky. I never could get the right side one adjusted to an angle that was useful to me. Maybe with a if I loosened the whole thing and repositioned it it could be something salvageable, but as it was, I got a mediocre view of my right shoulder. The left mirror I got adjusted to a better spot, but then by the end of the ride it would flap back everytime I accelerated, and I had to keep pushing it back into place. They also didn’t have the best image clarity, and sometimes got a bit shakey. So pitch those, and buy some nice CRG bar-end ones.

Finding neutral was also always a bit weird for me. For those of you who don’t know, on a motorcycle, you have a sequential transmission, which means you run through all your gears in order, up or down, with no skipping around. Neutral is placed between first and second gears. It’s not a full click into second, but just a half click that gets you into neutral. But on the Enfield, it felt like less than a half click. More like “think about clicking it up, and that’s enough”. I’m sure you’d get used to it, and it probably means you don’t accidentally kick it into neutral much, but I always had to triple check I had it right before taking my hand off the clutch.

Also, if I’m honest, I didn’t love the fact that the gauge cluster just has one icon for both your turn signals. Regardless of which one is on, the same icon flashes. This isn’t a major issue, because you can literally grab the turn signal in front of you, so if you can’t tell which one is on, you’ve got bigger problems. But still, I’d have preferred an arrow indicator on each side. I’m aware that they’re building to a price point, and you consolidate where you can. If it means on little stuff like that, instead of the drivetrain or chassis, I’m down with that.

This is also a motorcycle you should never ride in shorts. In reality, you shouldn’t ride any motorcycle in shorts, but squids gonna squid. But with the way the Interceptor is set up, my right leg occasionally rested right against the engine when I was standing at a stop, and good lord does that get toasty. I’m sure I was running it way hotter than normal by doing photoshoot riding, which is obnoxiously taxing on the bike and the rider. Ride by at slow to medium speed, do a u-turn, ride by at slow to medium speed, do a three point turn, ride by at slow to medium speed, stop to discuss strategy, do three point turn. So I wasn’t getting up to speed to let some air blow some of that heat away. It would probably be amazing in the fall, but in late Spring in the Midwest, it was just melty.

If these sound like minor, totally inconsequential complaints, they are. I loved that little bike. So much of the industry is focused on being the brightest and the fastest, so I love that Royal Enfield went the other direction. There’s something to be said for a simple, honest motorcycle that’s pleasant to ride. Remember kids, this was all supposed to be fun.

[Images courtesy of Travis Carroll]

[/fusion_text][/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]