In Austin, with a belly full of the best damn burger I’ve ever had, my ears alerted me to the sound of a V4. A Ducati Streetfighter V4 S, to be precise.
Like the crafty cat I am, I waited for the rider to make his way into the restaurant, presumably to have the best burger he’d ever had. This guy was kitted out, looking slick, and I was fired up to check out his Streetfighter. But horror awaited me.
Nonchalantly making my way over to the snarling V4 beauty, I almost lamented that I had to ride electric motorcycles the next day—I already had a word with myself because my job is bloody amazing, and I’m back to reality.
Then I saw V4 S' tires.
Chicken strips are good, in my opinion, as you should always leave a bit in reserve on the road. But what I saw weren’t chicken strips, this was like a factory chicken farm on each side of the tire. Now, I wasn’t lamenting for myself but for the Streetfighter. I reckon it’s resigned to hopping between burger joints and whatever else is in the city limits.
If you want a bike to hop between places in the city and that’s your thing, I’m for it. You do you. The thing is, with Can-Am’s Pulse, there might be a new, better way to do you, with an added layer of accessible menace to the mix.
I’m just not sure if Can-Am intended to make such a hooligan.
Stop Hooning Around
A healthy dose of nerves fueled my outing on the Pulse. It was my first time on a proper, full-sized, modern electric motorcycle, and I had no clue what to expect. Right off the mark, I was enamored by the throttle response. Having recently given up my clutch at Honda’s E-clutch launch, I was hesitant to do it again, but the way the Pulse dishes out its power is so on point.
I edged forward slowly to speak to another journalist. It felt like the bike knew exactly what speed I wanted to progress at and glided forward. That’s the case in all four of its riding modes. It’s a doddle to tackle city streets on, and that made what was coming next all the more shocking.
Wheelies. Plural.
Obviously, I wasn’t trying to wheelie the Pulse because that’d be illegal. But I’m sure I felt the front wheel float when I became a bit more aggressive with my throttle inputs in Sport + mode, so I wondered, “What if I became a lot more aggressive?”
Well, thankfully, we had the chance to operate the Pulse on private property, so I got to test my theory. Simply turning off TC when this thing is in Sport + turns a fun bike into the devil on your shoulder. Not only is the back tire free to completely indulge in the motor’s 53 lb-ft of torque, but you can just as easily lock it up because the rear ABS disengages along with the TC.
Almost all the fun hooligan stuff you can think of becomes instantly, easily attainable: burnouts, laying down black lines, skids, and snappy low-speed wheelies. All of this is without touching a clutch, or gear lever, or trying to gauge an engine’s powerband. Now, think back to that Streetfighter V4S.
There’s no doubt that the red devil would perform all the same hooligan antics and then some. But I’d need to pucker up a lot of courage or stupidity to try that on a Streetfighter. The Pulse, though, is so inviting, friendly, and unintimidating that you’d need a friend to tell you to stop hooning about for you to consider your antics.
The bike’s deadliness partially lies in the fact that it’s silent, so spinning up the rear or lifting the front wheel doesn’t attract the same attention as it would on an ICE bike—Quietly luring you into hooliganism.
But this is the dark side of the Pulse, the side I’m not sure if Can-Am knew it was making. It seems like the bike is intended for newer riders, given the fact it produces 35kW (47 hp), making it A2 compliant in Europe. And it manages to cleverly fit this niche, too.
Welcome New Riders
The Pulse is compact, weighs just 390 lbs, and has a 30.86-inch seat height. It’s super approachable for a new and/or shorter rider. When I saw the physical specs I was a bit nervous that I’d be like a gorilla on it, and I’m a pretty average 6-foot-tall fella. But props to Can-Am because as soon as I set off, I completely forgot about the bike’s proportions due to its seemingly made-to-measure rider triangle.
It wasn’t until I started playing with rider modes on the move that I realized what the Pulse gives up to obtain such a roomy cockpit—gauge placement. I couldn’t just peep down at the gauge like I normally would because I needed to move my entire head down to get a good look. Thankfully, at 10.25 inches, the display is bloody huge, and it doesn’t take long to look down and find simple info, like your speed. And it’s unlikely you’ll be much over the limit, given the bike’s top speed of 80 mph.
But it’ll get to 60 mph in 3.8 seconds, and because there’s no clutch to burn or skill involved in getting it off the line so quickly, I’d bet you’ll find yourself ripping away from traffic lights to whatever the speed limit is far more frequently than you would on an ICE bike.
I know talk of all these hooligan antics might deter newer riders, but that shouldn’t be the case. Dialing down the power mode to Normal, Rain, and especially Eco mode changes the bike’s behavior and makes it much tamer. I’d go as far as to say that newer riders could use the lower power modes as a progression system to work their way up to Sport +.
Along with its low top speed, a relatively limited combined range of 80 miles solidifies the Pulse as a city bike with the capability to do a short highway stint if needed. I’m sure I was riding far more aggressively than a newer rider would, but my actual range was generally falling 20 miles short of my estimated range out on open roads. But this wasn’t the case in the city.
The Pulse has an estimated range of 100 miles in the city, which I’m more inclined to believe it’d be close to achieving. When our group returned to the city limits, I went from having range anxiety for the first time to watching my range stop dropping entirely, and this is partially thanks to the active regen system.
Roll the accelerator forward from a neutral position, and you’ll engage the active regen system, which is something I was skeptical about before riding, but now can’t imagine why an electric motorcycle wouldn’t have it.
Unfortunately, the active regen was the first issue I noticed, one of a few that I hope will be fixed before the Pulse goes on sale.
Preproduction Problems
Of the three active regen power options, I found Max to be the best, as it essentially allowed me to ride without touching the brakes unless I wanted to come to a complete stop or I was very much on the boil. I’d equate it to a level of engine braking slightly less than an inline-three-cylinder motorcycle.
The system is so good, and I found myself using it so intuitively that it became borderline dangerous because it disengaged without giving me any real notice.
The 6.6kW battery is liquid-cooled, which did a great job keeping power delivery consistent, even when our gauges showed temperatures of 109 degrees Fahrenheit. But, eventually, my bike went from having all the braking force I needed in the form of active and passive regen to having nothing, which resulted in a slightly panicked pull of the front brake. It doesn’t help that your fingers are pointed down and away from the lever when using active regen.
The bike had gotten too hot, and enabling regen would have been bad for the battery, so instead of reducing the power, the regen capabilities become reduced or disabled. But only a tiny blue line shows the available regen, and it's difficult to see while you're on the move. I think there needs to be a large notification indicating when active regen is disabled because if a rider becomes complacent with the system, they could end up in a dangerous situation.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the active regen cutting out unexpectedly led me to use the brakes with more force than, and more often than, I usually would. This highlighted the Pulse’s somewhat weak front brake and wooden-feeling rear. There was also quite a bit of play in the rear lever before it engaged—something I hope Can-Am will improve upon before the production units go on sale.
Another feature I love, but time will tell whether it’s up to snuff, is the chaincase: a fully enclosed, self-lubricating, self-tensioning final drive.
A perfectly tense and lubricated chain meant there was no lag when cranking the throttle, and in theory, there never should be. This system is also silent, which is a pro or con, depending on your preference. But it is not without fault.
I noticed another journalist's chaincase leaking oil all over the left-hand side of his tire on the Origin, which shares the same final drive system. I inquired as to what caused the issue, and Can-Am’s Director of Product Strategy told me, “Let's keep in mind that these bikes were prototypes and were not final production units… For the chain case leak, it was the O-ring of the speed sensor that was pinched when installed in the prototype shop. This will not happen in production since we have a thorough process in place that controls the parts assembly.”
If Can-Am can ensure reliability, then I’d say this final drive system is a stellar feature for both new and seasoned riders alike. No one gets a kick out of maintaining their chain, but it’s like bloody taxes—If you avoid it, it’ll bite you in the ass. If you do the oil changes yourself at 3,106 miles, and every 6,213 miles after that, you won’t need to bring it in for a chain inspection until the odometer shows 15,534 miles.
But, again, Can-Am will need to ensure the production version of the Pulse has quality parts because a pinched O-ring wasn’t the only issue I found.
Reserving Judgement
A snapped heel guard, flimsy front fender that made a rubbing noise under hard braking, and snapped rear blinker—which Can-Am said happened in transit, to be fair—were other issues I found with the preproduction Pulse.
The Pulse goes on sale in November, and I believe most of the issues I had with the bike should be fairly simple fixes, which I hope Can-Am can make before it goes on sale because it’s hard for me to emphasize how much fun this thing is in an Urban environment and medium-speed open roads.
If you can afford the Pulse’s $13,999 price tag and Can-Am addresses the quality concerns I outlined, I’d see this as a viable option for someone who mainly smashes city roads. And if this is your goal, along with looking slick, the Pulse is nearly $14,000 cheaper than a Streetfighter V4S, and I think most city riders would have a lot more fun.
It’s worth mentioning that it received so much attention on the streets of Austin.
I’d also see it as a decent option for an experienced rider who’s looking for a fun second bike to commute on. But I think what the Pulse needs is a long-term test once production models hit dealerships. Until then, I have to reserve my final judgment.
