I’ve never dropped a coin in a jukebox at the Ace Café, never raced to a roundabout with a song as my stopwatch — but swinging a leg over the Triumph Thruxton 400, I could imagine it. The low clip-ons pulled me forward, the tank felt like it’s meant to be gripped in a full tuck, and there was the familiar punchy single-cylinder engine. But this Thruxton looked far from a museum piece. It felt like it was inviting me to write my own café race, here and now, on streets that had probably never seen the ton yet.
Because the Thruxton name isn’t just another badge in Triumph’s catalogue — it’s a 60-year-old legacy, famed not just for its performance, but aesthetics, too. Born as a limited-run Bonneville racer in 1964, it made its mark in endurance races, conquered the Isle of Man TT, and became a blueprint for café racer cool. The 400 brings that legacy to a platform built for today’s streets — lighter, friendlier, and more accessible — but without sanding off the attitude.
Some colours just sit on a motorcycle. This one lives on it. The Thruxton 400 in the Metallic Racing Yellow looks like speed dipped in sunshine — bright enough to make grey mornings feel warmer, bold enough to wear its café-racer lines like a tailored suit. The fairing is small but full of attitude, the tank sculpted in a way that makes you want to lean into it, and the cowl out back giving a wink to anyone following. Stand near it long enough and you start to notice the quiet swagger in the details — the Monza cap catching the light, the brushed badges, the way the stance says, “I’ve got places to be.” And it’ll take you to those places in a way I had never imagined.
When Triumph said that the new clip-ons are 156 mm lower and 50 mm narrower than the Speed 400’s handlebar, I imagined quite an aggressive riding posture, especially since the footpegs were now 86 mm further back and 27 mm higher. And at 795 mm, the seat height remained accessible. But it wasn’t just the ergonomics that made it different, but the engine, too.
The 398cc single had been reworked for the Thruxton, keeping the ‘ton’ or 160-kph top speed in mind. Now, with 41.4 bhp on tap — a bump of almost 2 bhp — courtesy of revised cam timing and a new rear sprocket (two teeth less), the Thruxton feels a lot different than the other bikes based on the T4 engine. The new sprocketing is meant for better top end, but it comes at the cost of initial grunt. Though the Thruxton doesn’t lack that, the Speed and the Scrambler’s punchy bottom-end performance spoilt me.
Furthermore, the engine now revs up to 10,200 rpm — a bump of 1000 rpm from the Speed, intended for the bike to hold gears for longer. And with a rev-happy engine like this, who wouldn’t want that, right? However, the journey to the engine’s ceiling is hampered by the vibrations on the footpegs and handlebar that start creeping in from around 5500 rpm and by the time I was close to ‘reaching the ton’, the vibrations at the ’pegs were unbearable yet I would always find myself doing those ridiculous speeds all day long.
And the chassis is to be blamed for it. The bike felt so agile that all I had to do was point it at the gap and shoot — the Thruxton would slice through every gap with the poise of a ballerina. Thankfully, unlike the Scrambler 400X, this one gets sintered brake pads, and they provided great stopping power, giving me the confidence to do more of such tomfoolery. Even the suspension was up for the task… until I actually started pushing it through corners. Then it would get all bouncy mid-corner. But I was okay with that because the Apollo H1 Alpha tyres compensated with their grip levels, and the suspension was more than capable of handling the everyday stuff effortlessly.
For ₹2.74 lakh, the Thruxton 400 is more than just a smaller slice of Triumph’s café racer history — it’s a bike that makes that history feel within reach. It’s quick enough, engaging enough, and stylish enough to keep you glancing back at it long after you’ve parked. A proper single-seat version with the cowl fixed in place and a set of wire-spoke wheels would turn the cool factor up another notch, but even as it stands, the Thruxton 400 already feels like a machine worth owning. I may have never dropped a coin in a jukebox at the Ace Café, but after a day with this bike, I get why they raced before the song ended — because sometimes you don’t ride to beat the clock — you ride to make time stand still.
