staff@slashgear.com (Michael Teo Van Runkle)
2024-04-02 15:27:31
www.slashgear.com
Before the Dragster arrived, I watched a couple of videos on YouTube to hopefully wrap my head around how, exactly, the SCS works. The engine’s algorithms modulate torque delivery based on throttle position and also movement, while the mechanical expander disc within the clutch pack itself then controls the slip and grip of the whole system—all while adding a few grams of weight. In my head, the design lookers similar to the Wavetrac automatic torque-biasing differential in my Porsche 914’s gearbox, but I still wondered how the SCS would apply to motorcycling in the real world.
And I can admit, my first time out on the Dragster America definitely included plenty of glancing down at the clutch and shifter levers, as well as the RPM readout on the bike’s digital display. I rolled forward a few times without giving gas at stoplights, waited far too long while revving the cold engine up far too high expecting a shift that never came, and, of course, pulled in the clutch lever unnecessarily a ton. I wanted to get going, but a purposeful period of training to acclimate to the SCS should have probably fit into my plan for the day.
Still, the SCS and I finally settled into a rhythm with the concept that riding the Dragster is essentially the opposite of a sequential transmission in automatic mode. Instead of pulling in the clutch just to start and stop, I needed to flick the quickshifter with my left foot to shift up and down, while consciously telling my left hand to forget about the rest. The quickshifter itself clearly prioritizes smooth action at all RPMs, rather than the snappiest shifts at high revs and full throttle, because MV probably assumes every rider will simply stop pulling in the clutch at lower RPMs, too.