2025 Royal Enfield Classic 650 Review ─ First Ride

But look a little closer and all is not as it seems. This is a press launch. The pub is in the heart of a living history museum. The factory engineer is actually a Royal Enfield public relations man, dressed ─ like all the Royal Enfield representatives here ─ in a 1950s-style turtleneck and work coat. And the old-school British twin before us is, in fact, the 2025 Royal Enfield Classic 650, proudly made in Chennai, India.

There's more to this story, but we're already three paragraphs in and you want to know about the bike.

"Is it any good?" you might be thinking.

Yes.

"Really? You're not just saying that because they gave you beer and a cool branded backpack to take home?"

Yes, really. I came to this motorcycle with certain expectations based on Royal Enfield's pricing of similar models. Those expectations were not only exceeded but completely blown out of the water. The Classic 650 is still a 47-horsepower bike with tubed tires and non-adjustable suspension, but in terms of quality and enjoyability, this thing is so much better than it has any right to be.

Back to Royal Enfield. The company was founded in Redditch, England, but It's been very much an Indian affair since the mid-1950s – the last vestiges of British control fading in the early ’70s. You're probably aware that riders in India are fiercely patriotic about the brand. Last year alone, they bought in excess of 820,000 Royal Enfield motorcycles. Outside of India, however, the company hasn't been as much of a powerhouse, with some riders still thinking of it as British, and others referring to it in past tense.

A Story of Quality

Those latter attitudes are changing rapidly, though, thanks to a kind of rebirth that the brand has experienced over the past decade and a half. It has expanded rapidly, going from selling 50,000 motorcycles a year in 2010 to 50,000 a month in 2015. And it has put real effort into meeting the interests and expectations of international markets. The Classic 650 represents the culmination of years of hard work.

By Royal Enfield's telling, the beginning of that effort came in 2008, with the Classic 500. That bike was powered by an air-cooled pushrod single-cylinder engine and had some reliability issues. It wasn't a huge departure from the Royal Enfields that had gone largely unchanged since 1955, but it was definitely a step up. It was designed by Englishman Mark Wells, who was living in Newcastle at the time – a short ride from the pub where this article started.

All of this backstory is relevant when you see the Classic 650 for the first time. Here is a bike from a company that, let's be honest, didn't used to have a great reputation for quality. In more recent history, said company has experienced exponential growth, which is usually the sort of thing that negatively affects quality.

But then you see this motorcycle. You hear the 'tink-tink' of steel when you flick at its fenders. You see rich paint sparkling in the sun – including hand-painted pinstriping. You see gleaming chrome touches, and attention paid to seemingly every detail. You see a bike that is beautiful and well thought-out, but not pretentious, and it kind of blows your mind.

Especially when you consider the MSRP. The Classic 650 is priced toward the top of Royal Enfield's line-up, but it still costs considerably less than, say, a Triumph Bonneville T-100, or Indian Scout Sixty.

I cannot emphasize enough what a pretty bike this is. And I think it's important to keep that context in mind when assessing what it's like to ride. This is not an everyday commuting motorcycle. It's not a sportbike; it's not an adventure bike; it's not a touring rig. It is an incredible piece of art that can move at highway speeds. And it does so comfortably and without fuss.

On the Bike

I'm 6-feet, 1-inch tall. Settling into the Classic 650's saddle, I was reasonably comfortable; but I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be any taller. That was particularly true as the day wore on. The bike is sold with passenger accommodation but the pillion seat is easily removable and the aesthetic is better without it. The drawback to this fashion choice, however, is that you can't move around to ease pressure points. After a full day of riding, I was feeling some soreness in my back, hips and knees.

Equally, stretching out or getting into a tuck is nigh impossible when the pace quickens. The ergonomics of the bike have you sitting straight up, like a good little boy at school, which means you catch ALL the windblast. It serves as an incentive to keep things leisurely.

Which, really, is where the Royal Enfield's 648cc parallel-Twin is happiest. Claiming 34.6 kW of power (just a smidge under 47 hp), it is fully capable of earning you a speeding ticket on the freeway, but it does so with quite a lot of vibration. During my time with the bike, I went back and forth on whether I enjoyed that sensation; there's a thin line between buzziness and character. In short bursts, the vibration gives the engine a fun, V-twin feel. But I suspect that long hauls at sustained speeds of 70 mph or above could grow tiresome.

Related to speed, the classic question to ask of any 'British' twin is: "Does it do the ton?"

I genuinely believe that, under the right conditions, the Classic 650 could achieve 100 mph. But I was not able to create those conditions. I tried. There were occasional long straights on our ride, where I tucked down to the best of my ability, pinned the throttle to the stop, and screamed encouragement at the Royal Enfield's engine, watching its analog speedometer needle slowly creeeeeep toward that magic number. But I never hit the ton.

Additionally, when riding aggressively, I found the rev limiter kicked in surprisingly early in first, second, and third gears. It was pretty easy to find in fourth, too. Some of this has to do with my particular riding style, admittedly – I like to hold gears – But it's also the case that the engine pulls right to the rev limiter. Power doesn't taper off; it's a case of: "pull, pull, pull, nothing."

The chassis and overall set-up also discourage aggressive riding. The stock MRF tubed tires come in awkward sizing of 19-inch front, 18-inch rear. The brakes are decent but definitely not performance. The suspension is not adjustable and feels overly firm for this 168-pound rider. And if you're really "making progress," as English riders like to say, the 3.9-gallon tank empties pretty quickly. Royal Enfield's team made sure to top up my bike three times during our 160-mile ride.

Remember what I said about context, though. I discovered all these 'downsides' while attempting to keep up with a ride leader who used to be a British road racer. I definitely would not have ridden the bike as belligerently if it were mine. And I find it hard to believe that anyone else would, either. When you're riding at normal-people speed, the Classic 650 is a much better machine.

Its cheerful engine delivers a delightful burbling sound that is simultaneously gentlemanly and cool. The peak torque of 38.5 lb-ft offers plenty of oomph off stoplights, or – as was the case for me – out of roundabouts. It feels relatively light and nimble through the twists and turns of traffic, managing to hide its 535-pound curb weight incredibly well. And the transmission is smooth and trouble-free.

Bells and whistles are few. Royal Enfield's Tripper navigation device is about it. Thankfully, the bike's old-school looks are not spoiled in any way. The poker-chip-sized device is integrated unobtrusively into the dash.

And that mention of aesthetics brings us back to where we started. One of the things you will enjoy most about this bike is the act of staring at it. You will probably end up keeping several pictures of this bike on your phone, showing it to people at bars and birthday parties. Sure, the Classic 650 is fun to ride but some of the greatest joy comes in catching glimpses of yourself in store windows, or feeling smug about all the admiring looks you get from everyone around you.

As the former owner of a Triumph Bonneville T120, however, I feel it's important to warn you that owning a bike like this will change your attitude toward cleaning. You will become meticulous and anal about everything. The people at Muc-Off will send you Christmas cards as a thank you for buying so many of their products. And as a result of your adopting this new, psychotic cleaning regime the thing that will annoy you the most about this bike is where Royal Enfield has chosen to place the exhaust: right in front of the chain.

In order to clean, adjust, and/or lube the chain effectively, you must remove the left-side exhaust. It's not a huge job – you just have to loosen two bolts – but doing it over and over and over again will slowly poke a hole in your sanity.

Also: tubed tires.

If I'm digging that deep for criticism, though, it kind of says something, doesn't it? Ridden within the context of its being a fun motorcycle for cheerful, sunny-day adventures, the Classic 650 is really hard to beat. It is beautifully styled, provides an excellent soundtrack, and offers surprising levels of quality for the price.

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