WORDS & IMAGES BY BORIS MIHAILOVIC & AARON CLIFTON
The FTR has many happy places. This is one of them.You might recall my recent review of the stunning FTR Carbon. You may read it HERE if you wish to refresh your memory. But if that’s a bridge too far for you, let me summarise what I’d said, because it applies just as much to the FTR Sport.
There is no other bike on the market quite like the FTR. It is unique. It is indeed more than the sum of its parts in the way it ticks a rider’s boxes. But you have to ride it like you mean it. And that is its greatest attraction and strength.
If ever there was a bike that spoke to the “Ride it like you stole it” philosophy, the FTR is that bike. Everything about it lends itself to that red-eyed hooligan itch so many of us are always looking to scratch.
And it’s not just one or two things about it that tweak those bad-man nipples. It’s everything. The way it looks, the way it sounds, the way it needs to be hurled into corners, the way you sit on it – and even the uniquely maddening way you have to take your time gently filling its under-seat petrol tank – all speak to its specialness.
If it was a girlfriend, it would be one of those splendidly crazy hot bitches who holds a knife to your eye, calls you names, and gives you the kind of sex you’ve only ever seen in German movies.
Yes, the FTR is THAT unique.
It’s a looker, no argument.Uniqueness is no easy thing for a manufacturer to achieve. We live in a time when motorcycle homogeneity rules – and while there are captivating stand-alone monsters, there aren’t a lot of them.
That’s the small company the FTR lives in.
There are five variants in the FTR line-up, which you can see HERE. And this is the same place where you can examine the Specs, which saves me parroting them here. They all boast different levels of equipment, but are essentially the same junkyard dog.
That engine-frame combo is just great.In this instance, Aaron and I got to play around on the FTR Sport. Which is the FTR Carbon with no carbon-fibre. Aaron played on it more than I did, because I wanted to see if he’d enjoy the knife-wielding girlfriend aspect of it as much as I did. His thoughts are below if you read on.
Besides, I am intensely familiar with the FTR, and have been since I rode the first model in the hills behind Santa Monica a few years before it all turned into a blackened wasteland. I have toured, scratched, and commuted on an FTR. I’ve put a tonne of miles under its wheels and I would own one in a minute.
Like the country behind it – unique and not for beginners.It speaks to me that loudly. It’s all the kinds of rat-bastard a bike should be. This makes it not for everyone. Good. That is as it should be. Motorcycling itself is not for everyone. No, seriously. It’s not. We all know that. And while manufacturers do build bikes even the most safety-conscious, unco-ordinated field-gibbon can get about on, they do still also build bikes for people who wanna ride with madness glinting in their eyes and black sin feeding their souls.
If you drink from that cup, I entreat you to try an FTR. Embrace the needle-point of that knife hovering just above your eye. It may be just the kind of thrill you’ve been looking for.
WHAT AARON THOUGHT…
How does one describe something that is completely unlike anything else? It’s like trying to describe the smell of coffee. What does coffee smell like? Well…coffee.
That’s the position I found myself in trying to describe the Indian FTR Sport.
The headlight is excellent at night, and you can write nice messages for drivers on the board above it.Sure, it’s a motorcycle, in that it has two wheels and an engine, in the same way that coffee is a just hot beverage. But the smell of coffee is unlike anything else. It’s difficult to describe, yet unmistakable when you experience it.
Motorcyclists in 2025 are blessed beyond our understanding and even our own awareness. Gone are the days of bikes with bad attitudes that demanded respect and didn’t suffer fools.
The Welcome screen. Behind it, are two options you can choose from, and a host of other features, including turn-by-turn navigation. And it’s a touch-screen, so you can do it all with your finger. But we are seeing horsepower today that would have astonished us 20 years ago, and modern bikes are friendly in the sense they’ve been tamed by technology and electronics.
Put that together with modern frame geometry and suspension, and the result is a bike that almost does the job for you. Modern bikes allow men to do things their limited ability would otherwise not allow, because electronics stand between them and death. But I’m not complaining. We have it good, and the latest bikes make us better than we ought to be.
I’m not a fan of the pipework – and it can all be tossed out and fitted neatly under the rear tailpiece.The FTR is different. Sure, it’s a modern bike. It has selectable rider maps (Sport, Standard, and Rain), all accessible via a touch-screen display. It has cruise control, and smart phone connectivity, road maps, and traction control that can be turned off should you wish. It has an Öhlins rear shock, Brembo brakes, and looks very much like it means business, because it does.
On this ride heading from Singleton to Wisemans Ferry, the FTR was placed comfortably among a pack which consisted of Batesy on his R1, Duncan on his S1000RR, Thommo and his Fireblade, Billy on his MT-10SP, and Boris riding a GSA1300.
If the touch-screen isn’t your thing, everything can be done from these buttons.We were not out looking for multiple coffee stops, smelling roses, or looking for social acceptance. We were contending for podiums.
This pack of irresponsible bastards were disdainful of the double-demerit bullshit and gleefully took things beyond the 200kph mark now and then, and the FTR was happy to oblige.
The run from Singleton, Broke, Wollombi and down to Spencer was a perfect route to fully acquaint myself with the FTR. It had everything a typical day-long fang should – fast open sections, tight corners, and both good and not-so-good road surfaces.
The 1200 V-twin lacks nothing in the power department. It packs a man-load of torque and keeps pulling all the way to red line without faltering.
Honestly, it’s one of the nicest V-twins I’ve ridden in recent times, and is an exceptionally smooth engine on the road. I greatly loved that it makes an evil-sounding, popping-crackling exhaust noise when you back the throttle off – like an announcement.
Lovely golden goodness…and those baffles come out real easy.After a quick drink-stop at Spencer, we headed to Wisemans Ferry, and you can’t help but enjoy the series of lefts and rights winding alongside the Hawksbury River. Riding at a more moderate pace, the FTR is nimble, comfortable, and compliant, so nothing out of the ordinary. The riding position is neutral, the width and bend on the handlebars gave good feel, and leverage.
After lunch at Wisemans Ferry, we head back to Singleton via Sackville and onto the Putty Road, a stretch of tar I know all too well, and I was keen to push the FTR harder along the Putty.
The engine and ergos are on point, and stopping the FTR was no hassle either. The brakes are Brembos. Of course they stop. The question was, how stable was this thing under hard braking? So I did a bit of that. Fuss-and-panic-free, I’m pleased to report. The low centre of gravity and a longish wheelbase meant I could push hard into corners and be comfortable doing so.
It was after I released the brakes coming hard into corners that things got interesting, and if I’m honest it took me a while to work it out.
Its right about here you realise you’re not riding just any motorcycle. The Indian FTR behaves differently. Not bad in any way. Just different – and very true to its flat-track DNA. And I have flat-tracked, so I get it.
The finish is top-notch.Riding the FTR with intent, requires more than just sitting lazily, turning in on the front wheel and getting the job done. Cornering hard requires some muscle, or man-handling, so to speak. It will bang with the best sportsbikes out there, but it must be ridden accordingly.
As soon as I worked out how it likes to be ridden, the world was seen in colour again, and it was bloody glorious.
Get off the brakes, move your body weight forward…really far forward, weight the inside foot peg like a son-of-a-bitch, and feed the throttle to it.
I found myself giggling, and at times sliding my way left and right through the Putty Road chasing down Duncan on the S1000RR.
After exiting the Ten Mile, we found a shady spot to stop. It’s a tradition. We recount our bravery and daring, marvel at our survival, then head home greatly satisfied by everything.
It’s as special as it looks.Borrie asked how I’d enjoyed the FTR. I think he already knew the answer from my grin.
“If there’s anything I’d change on this bike,” I said. “It’s the tyres. This thing is worthy of better, stickier rubber.”
The Indian FTR1200 is unlike any other bike. It’s a true rider’s motorcycle. It’s not designed for clueless fools. It feels no responsibility to preserve your life, or chew your food for you. Everything is up to you, you must do the riding, and do it right.
It’s been a long time since I’d ridden a bike that required so much rider input. This is by no means a bad thing. After all, isn’t that the heart and soul of motorcycling?
If you’re up for it, that’s the experience the FTR will give you.
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