Benda LCF 700 (2025 – ) review

There’s no room for sitting on the fence with the Benda LFC 700. With a design so bold, brand name so brazen and riding experience so bonkers, you either buy into the fun or dismiss its silliness out of hand. But a bit of background might help. Benda (apparently it’s only us Brits sniggering at the back) is a brand-new, standalone Chinese cruiser brand launched in 2016 which already has five in-house engine platforms ranging from twins to fours and from 300cc to 700cc. It’s now partnered with compatriot Keeway for worldwide distribution, and its initial range of three models is being brought into the UK by MotoGB. The LFC 700 is its biggest, boldest and priciest and is seemingly a Ducati Diavel inspired hot-rod at first glance. But with its supersport-style 86 horsepower 676cc four, more basic spec and starting price it is half the power, less than half the price and far more accessible. Even so, with slick design touches, posh Brembo brakes, wacky four-into--four exhaust and a massive 310-section rear tyre its presence is in the same ballpark. No, there’s not much practicality, nor Diavel-style handling, electronics and sophistication. But it does a decent job, and few bikes raise as big a smile for so few bucks.

Classic long and low hot-rod stance is delivered by a low 695mm seat, forward-mounted footpegs and stubby sports bars. It’s not as uncomfortable as that sounds and is arguably little different from a Diavel, and probably better than the rather more extreme Harley Breakout. The LFC 700’s whopping 1,720mm wheelbase, 287kg weight and all-round bulk make manoeuvring a chore, its monster back tyre blunts the handling and there’s zero weather protection. As a result, B-roads are negotiated rather than enjoyed, traffic-splitting is tricky, and pillions need to be VERY intimate acquaintances. But on steady, 70mph straight-line drags the LFC delivers OK, and we challenge anyone not to be entertained by the dropped jaws of all those you ride past…

No prizes for guessing practicality isn’t high on the LFC 700’s priorities. Instead, it’s mostly about pose and performance. Because of its riding position, lack of weather protection, dubious comfort and lack of luggage-carrying capacity, touring or serious motorway miles are definite no-nos, even if we did cover 20 miles on the M6 as part of our test. Because of its sheer length, awkwardness and bulk, it’s certainly no nimble commuter or traffic-buster, either. It’s obviously no off-roader, and nor is it any kind of sports weapon. Begging the question, what is it actually for? And the answer is, simply, posing, cruising and showing off. The LFC’s rorty engine sounds far more powerful than it is, at standstill it looks space age and on the move it grabs everyone’s attention and is an absolute laugh. At the price nothing generates bigger smiles, and for some that’ll be enough.

No prizes for guessing practicality isn’t high on the LFC 700’s priorities. Instead, it’s mostly about pose and performance. Because of its riding position, lack of weather protection, dubious comfort and lack of luggage-carrying capacity, touring or serious motorway miles are definite no-nos, even if we did cover 20 miles on the M6 as part of our test. Because of its sheer length, awkwardness and bulk, it’s certainly no nimble commuter or traffic-buster, either. It’s obviously no off-roader, and nor is it any kind of sports weapon. Begging the question, what is it actually for? And the answer is, simply, posing, cruising and showing off. The LFC’s rorty engine sounds far more powerful than it is, at standstill it looks space age and on the move it grabs everyone’s attention and is an absolute laugh. At the price nothing generates bigger smiles, and for some that’ll be enough.

Better than you might expect, considering this hot-rod is a brand-new effort from China with a relatively old-style supersport engine with a modest 86 horsepower. At standstill, that transverse four sounds great through its wacky exhaust, even if three out of the four exits are actually fake. You don’t miss the lack of modes and gizmos, there’s enough power for the chassis and to make that monster rear tyre squeal or even light up (admit it, you’re tempted) and also enough performance to blast away from the lights. Yes, that output is half that of the Ducati Diavel, but it only matters in a side-by-side comparison and, again, the Italian costs more than twice as much. Braking-wise it’s even better, as no corners have been cut. The twin front stoppers comprise big 320mm discs gripped by genuine Brembo radial calipers, and they provide more than enough power.

Considering this is a bike with the fattest rear tyre in motorcycling, a ridiculously long wheelbase, feet-forward footpegs and not much by way of ground clearance the LFC isn’t actually as bad as you might fear. Sure, tight corners demand gritted teeth, forward planning, determined leaning, ‘tillering’ and perhaps even a slight prayer, but with miles you get used to it and it’s certainly comparable to, say, Harley’s Breakout. The ride’s more than reasonable for this kind of bike, too. Suspension is by KYB, is adjustable for compression at the front and preload at the rear and is sufficiently smooth, though limited travel does mean potholes can sometimes jar. But if that’s what you’re bothered about you’re looking at the wrong bike.

Big-name hot-rods from Ducati, Triumph or Harley-Davidson are rich boys’ toys with the purchase prices and running costs to suit. The LFC, however, should be different. It’s far cheaper to buy, the power output should be gentler on consumables and the only current replacement rear tyre available is by budget brand KingTyre. It’s not perfect, though. The chain is likely to have a hard life given its length and routing, brake pad life with those Brembos could be similarly short-lived and residuals are unproven. But, all in all, it’s not at all bad.

Nothing too alarming here. The Benda LFC 700 comes from new with a two-year, unlimited mileage, manufacturer-backed warranty covering all parts and labour. Recommended service intervals are every 4,000 miles, which is a little less than the industry norm but, given it’s not the sort of bike on which owners are likely to rack up high mileages, is probably less of an issue.

The LFC 700 isn’t lavishly equipped but, for the money, has what it needs where it needs it. So, the dash is a typically smart 5.0-inch colour TFT affair, mirrors are smart bar-end types and, superficially at least, it appears decent quality. On closer inspection there are few electronics and no modes (not that you miss them) and, of course, being a hot-rod, there is no fairing, luggage or creature comforts. But that’s not really what you expect from this type of bike, anyway.

Let’s be honest, bikes like this have fairly niche appeal, are largely impractical and, until now, were pricey playthings for rich poseurs. The simple fact the LFC 700 can be compared to the Diavel or Harley Breakout – yet costs a fraction as much – says pretty much everything. Yes, it’s not perfect. Its four-cylinder motor seems a little incongruous but sounds great, and has enough performance. It also looks great, is reasonably equipped and works more than adequately, too. All of that adds up to a bike that, in the right situation, puts a great big smile on your face and makes you feel like Judge Dredd or The Terminator but for budget bike money. And isn’t that, sometimes, what motorcycling is supposed to be all about?