We recently had the good fortune to ride the KTM Superduke, an insane combination of 990cc 60-degree V-twin, Brembo radial brakes and lightweight trellis chassis. The big slugs and sharp fuelling gave it electric response – you certainly wouldn’t want to have a big sneeze in a low gear…

Certainly less manic, but truer to the original supermotard theme is the KTM 690 Duke. It still boasts the trellis frame, perches you high above the family sedans, and retains the barking mad ability of its big brother. The notion of a big moto-crosser, modified for street use has been bent a fair way with the Duke.

It looks like a cutting implement, and it is. Everything except the seat and the wheels is sharp and straight. Sitting on its side-stand it projects its lines forward and downward, with an aggressive “I want to carve up roads” stance.

At 65hp (48kW), KTM’s indomitable LC4 654cc overhead cam single has been tweaked for a rev-happy existence, finding its mid-range and then bwwraapping its way through the top-end. It’s certainly designed to charge, driving hard through gaps and gears, punching through the next straight to blip down the gears and tip into the next corner. Given this, KTM was wise to fit a slipper clutch.

“…it felt as if I was no longer riding, but just standing up and flying through space and time with controls to hand…”

“Are you ready to race?” asks KTM’s strapline, and for good reason – if you expect a laid-back, lugging single that thumps right off the bottom, you’ll have to assess whether you can keep up with the Duke. It must be ridden beyond 3,000rpm to run smoothly, with a low-down engine temperament like a tethered thoroughbred straining at the reins.

Climb-up onto this steed and you’ll be greeted by a seat that’s highly convex in profile, a ridge line along the centre of the bike, falling away quickly to the sides and smooching up to the short, narrow tank. The result is a thin perch that naturally promotes your weight to shift forward and inward at every corner; and any moderate squeeze of the brakes puts this cornering process in motion.

There is little in the way of clutter up-front, with flat, single-piece alloy bars and the merest hint of a fairing – something closer to a stylistic nod in that direction, rather than any real attempt to fend the breeze. The upshot is that you are situated high above the road, with an easy reach to the bars and a gentle bend to the pegs.

When it all comes together, the end effect can be quite surreal. While swinging (at a sensible speed, officer) across the Colo Heights ridgeline, it felt as if I was no longer riding, but just standing up and flying through space and time with controls to hand, accompanied by some toe-twitching at either end of each corner.

Brembo braking is specified, and at the front a single floating 320mm disc is dominated by its 4-piston radially-mounted caliper. Combined with the wet-chassis weight of a bit over 160kg, they arrest progress like a tube of glue in a Roadrunner cartoon – damned quick. A single-piston unit on a 240mm rear disc kept things all-lined-up, and presented substantial bite.