2026 BSA Scrambler 650 Review: Retro Done Right

• 652cc single produces 45hp and 55Nm, with plenty of old-school character
• 19-inch front wheel and Pirelli Scorpion Rally STR tyres help make it surprisingly capable through the corners
• Fantastic styling and an $11,990 price offset some rough edges in refinement, fuelling and braking

BSA has wrapped its big 650 single in one of the best-looking scrambler packages around. But does the riding experience live up to the cool style?

BSA has taken the big single from its reborn Gold Star and wrapped it in one of the best-looking scrambler packages around. But is there enough substance beneath the considerable style?

There aren’t many motorcycle manufacturers that can lean on quite as much genuine heritage as BSA.

The Birmingham Small Arms Company was established in 1861 to manufacture firearms, with its motorcycle division arriving in 1903 and the first complete BSA motorcycle following in 1910. By the 1950s, BSA had grown to become the world’s largest motorcycle manufacturer, at one stage accounting for an astonishing one in every four motorcycles sold worldwide.

But, like much of the British motorcycle industry, things eventually unravelled. Motorcycle production came to an end in 1973 and for decades BSA was largely consigned to the history books.

That changed after Classic Legends, a subsidiary of India’s Mahindra Group, acquired BSA in 2016. The reborn company unveiled the new Gold Star in 2021, putting one of motorcycling’s most recognisable badges back on fuel tanks, and now the range is beginning to expand.

And the Scrambler 650 might be the best-looking modern BSA yet.

Proper Scrambler Style

The Scrambler isn’t simply using a fashionable name, either. BSA has plenty of dirt in its history, including success at Daytona in the 1950s and Jeff Smith’s 500cc Motocross World Championships in 1964 and 1965.

The modern interpretation takes the mechanical foundations of the Gold Star 650 and gives them a considerably more rugged makeover.

At its heart is the same 652cc liquid-cooled, DOHC, four-valve single-cylinder engine, producing 45hp at 6500rpm and, perhaps more importantly for this type of motorcycle, 55Nm at just 4000rpm. It is, however, hooked to a five-speed gearbox rather than the six-speeder you might expect on a modern middleweight.

There’s nothing particularly exotic underneath it. Suspension consists of conventional 41mm telescopic forks and a pair of rear shocks with five-step preload adjustment.

The wheels are more interesting. There’s a 19-inch wire-spoked front and 17-inch rear, both fitted with excellent Pirelli Scorpion Rally STR tyres. A single 320mm front disc is grabbed by a Brembo twin-piston floating caliper, with ABS, while there’s simple single-piston caliper at the rear of the same brand.

Fuel capacity is 12 litres, seat height is an accessible 820mm and wet weight is a fairly substantial 218kg. But the specifications aren’t really what grabs you when you first walk up to the Scrambler. It’s the way the thing looks.

Black Beauty

Our Raven Black test bike looked spectacular. And when the name says black, it means BLACK! It’s almost entirely black – tank, frame, forks, fork gaiters, handlebars, triple clamps and controls – with a big white BSA logo on the tank and a white 65 on the side panels, with Scrambler picked out underneath in red.

Then there are just enough contrasting details to stop everything disappearing into a black blob. The engine provides some silver highlights, there’s chrome around the instrument pod and fuel cap, and the BSA crossed-rifles emblem provides a neat reminder of what those three letters originally stood for.

Up front there’s a high mudguard and a stylish round LED headlight, again incorporating the BSA logo. The back is particularly tidy, with a small round tail-light and compact LED indicators sitting above that chunky Pirelli rear tyre.

The ribbed saddle gets its own BSA detailing and the single exhaust adds a slightly more contemporary touch to what is otherwise an extremely traditional-looking motorcycle. It really does nail the silhouette.

There’s something of the old British desert sled about it; the sort of machine you could imagine Steve McQueen blatting around on back in the day, only interpreted as a modern BSA. Park it outside a café and people notice it, undoubtedly spurred on by that large, white BSA emblem on the tank. And more than once I had people wanting to come over and talk about it.

Look more closely, however, and the fact this bike is built to a budget begins to show. It’s just small things like the brake and clutch levers that aren’t adjustable, and some of the welds and smaller finishing details aren’t particularly flash, Oh, and the mirrors are, frankly, hopeless. I couldn’t find a position that gave me a decent view behind, so they’d probably be one of the first things I’d change. A pair of bar-end mirrors would suit the bike nicely.

Then there’s the power outlet, which looks like a plastic box has simply been stuck onto the clutch-lever mount as an afterthought. On such a carefully styled motorcycle, it’s surprisingly ugly.

But stand a couple of metres back again and you forgive it. Especially in the black, this is a seriously good-looking motorcycle.

Keeping Things Simple

The Scrambler continues the old-school theme from the saddle. There’s a single round instrument pod with a chrome surround and a simple LCD display. You get the basics – speed, mileage, trip information, fuel level, clock and warning lights – but not much more.

There are several buttons on the left switchblock marked M, S, up and down, which makes you think there must be all sorts of menus to explore. There aren’t. In normal use, there’s very little for them to actually do.

A gear-position indicator would have been useful, particularly given the five-speed gearbox, and things such as average or instantaneous fuel consumption would make the display feel slightly more contemporary. But perhaps simplicity is part of the point.

There’s no traction control, no riding modes and not much in the way of electronic gadgetry. ABS is fitted, although disappointingly it can’t be switched off for gravel riding.

What you essentially have is an engine, two wheels, some brakes, a throttle and a seriously good looking bike. Quite refreshing, really.

Big Single Character

Press the starter and you’re immediately reminded there’s one very large piston doing the work. There’s plenty of mechanical noise, and even the fuel pump makes itself known. It isn’t unpleasant – and some people will probably consider it part of the BSA’s character – but anyone expecting the polished refinement of a modern multi-cylinder engine needs to recalibrate their expectations.

The trick to enjoying it is learning where the engine wants to work. Peak torque arrives at 4000rpm and that’s a clue. The Scrambler generally feels happier living in the lower and middle part of its rev range rather than constantly being wound out.

Initially I kept dropping one gear too many approaching roundabouts and slower corners. Where instinct told me to select second, the BSA would often have been happier left in third and allowed to thump its way through on the torque.

You can rev it, though. And it will happily pull towards 6000rpm and beyond if you’re in the mood, although there’s not a lot to be gained from hanging onto it forever. Get somewhere near 8000rpm and you encounter a particularly solid rev limiter, so you soon learn that short-shifting and surfing the torque suits the bike much better.

Five Is Enough… Mostly

One slightly surprising omission is a sixth gear. Around town you quickly work your way through the five-speed gearbox, while at 100km/h you’re already sitting in a reasonably busy part of the rev range.

To be fair, the engine doesn’t seem particularly bothered by that. At 100-110km/h the Scrambler will happily thump along and feels as though it could do so all day. With no screen or anything to deflect wind, the blast becomes more of an issue than the engine once speeds rise much beyond that anyway.

The gearbox itself takes a little familiarisation. Hold onto the revs and make a poorly timed change and you can get a noticeable mechanical lurch through the bike, with the large cylinder and internal rotating mass making itself known. Yet, once you learn to either short-shift it or make your changes more deliberately, things improve considerably. And being a LAMS-approved model, meaning learner riders can get themselves on a Scrambler, the fact you need to be a bit more aware of what’s going on beneath you, I reckon, could well be a benefit.

Urban Attack

My second ride on the BSA involved considerably more urban riding and highlighted something that wasn’t as obvious on the open road. The transition between a closed throttle and picking it up again is a tad abrupt.

Shut the throttle and the engine braking arrives strongly; open it again and there’s a definite snatch as the power comes back in. It’s manageable, but in slower traffic I found myself covering the clutch and rear brake and balancing the controls to smooth everything out.

With a pillion aboard, you’d need to be particularly gentle unless you enjoy regularly headbutting one another. Combine that with the fairly heavy clutch and it means the Scrambler isn’t quite as effortless around town as its appearance and modest performance might suggest.

Once the road opens up, though, things improve considerably.

Better In The Bends Than You’d Think

This was probably the biggest surprise – the BSA handles really rather well.

Those wide handlebars give you plenty of leverage and the 19-inch front wheel is a good compromise. It’s not as immediately sharp as a road-focused 17-inch front, but neither does it have the slightly remote feeling you can get from a skinny 21-inch adventure-bike wheel.

And the Pirelli Scorpion Rally STR tyres give plenty of confidence.

During our photo shoot we were repeatedly carving through corners that would normally be taken at around 55km/h at considerably more enthusiastic speeds, and the Scrambler simply got on with it. It’s stable, predictable and surprisingly happy to be hustled.

Those Pirellis do create a noticeable drone on the road – although my adventure helmet may have amplified it – but I’d happily accept that given the grip and versatility they provide. The suspension is fairly firm when riding solo, particularly at the rear. It’s reasonably well damped rather than simply kicking you out of the saddle, but you certainly know the twin shocks are there. Interestingly, it worked nicely two-up.

Kerry joined me for part of the test and despite the saddle initially looking a little short for two adults, we fitted on it surprisingly well. With the extra weight aboard, the rear suspension actually felt quite comfortable and the BSA still hustled along nicely.

Could Do With More Stop

Despite that Brembo name on the front caliper, the front brake could do with more power, particularly with a pillion aboard. Using all four fingers on the lever rather than my usual two produced a reasonable result, but I found myself adding some rear brake into the mix while also utilising the engine braking from the big single when pushing on.

Using both brakes feels more like the sort of stopping performance you’d want from a bike with the sort of chassis that encourages you to ride the bike harder than its retro styling might suggest. But a little more initial bite and overall power from the front would make a considerable difference, so a swap of pads should be on the list of things to do for Scrambler owners in my opinion. Especially those riders who like to enjoy a spirited ride.

What About Gravel?

The Scrambler certainly looks ready for it. The large, chunky footpegs are reassuringly substantial, the rear brake lever is equally purposeful and the Pirelli Rally STRs are already well proven on gravel. The 19-inch front wheel is also up to the task.

But let’s keep things in perspective. This isn’t an adventure bike dressed as a retro. It’s fundamentally a road bike that’s been given enough equipment to make exploring gravel roads entertaining.

The relatively low seat and correspondingly low handlebars mean the standing position isn’t particularly natural, so for most gravel-road riding I’d simply stay seated, where you’ll probably have more control anyway.

There’s also no traction control, which is actually a positive if you want to play around with the rear tyre on loose surfaces. The downside is that you can’t disable the rear ABS, and that puts a fairly obvious limit on how ambitious you’re going to want to become once things get properly loose or steep.

For gravel roads, forestry tracks and the occasional easy trail, though, it’s an absolute hoot.

Character Counts

The Scrambler 650 isn’t perfect. There’s a few niggles that could do with a bit of a polish, but I’m not entirely convinced I’d want BSA to polish all of that ‘character’ out of it anyway. Because after spending time with it, I really rather liked the thing.

It’s stable and surprisingly capable when you start pushing through corners. It’s comfortable enough to carry a pillion, and it’ll sit at the open-road limit quite happily. I’d explore options for a small fly screen though if it were mine. And the real bonus is that the tyres, wheels and riding position mean gravel roads are firmly on the agenda.

Finally, there’s the fact that every time you walk away from it, you turn around and look at it again. It’s just a really cool looking motorcycle.

At just under $12,000, the BSA Scrambler 650 is a stylish, accessible and entertaining motorcycle that feels pleasingly different from most of the increasingly sophisticated machinery around it.

There are objectively more polished motorcycles for the money. But very few of them look quite this cool parked in the corner of the shed. And then there’s the name. For some, that in itself is enough to make the decision.

For more about the BSA Scrambler and where to find your nearest dealer, head to https://bsacompany.nz.

Publisher/Editor

Paul

Paul is the owner, publisher and editor of Bike Rider Magazine, a role he has had for over two decades. He has been BRM’s primary test rider throughout that time, riding and reviewing everything from learner machines to high-performance superbikes. After cutting his teeth with Superbike Magazine in the UK, Paul moved to New Zealand in the early 2000s and has since dedicated his career to delivering honest, rider-focused motorcycle journalism.