Invasion of the Midwestern Road Tester

Invasion of the Midwestern road tester

LEANINGS

Peter Egan

BACK IN OLDEN TIMES, WHEN I WORKED full time at Cycle World, or upstairs at Road & Track, there was always a garage full of new test bikes just a few short steps away.

Through either duty or pleading, I managed for 10 years—from 1980 to 1990—to ride, essentially, every motorcycle imported to the U.S., and a few that weren’t.

So, when somebody at a party would ask me, “Say there, Egan, what’s the new Clapfire XZ1400R like to ride?” I could say, without hesitation. “It's an evil-handling pile of dinosaur coprolite that only a Paleozoic blastoid or a Cretaceous angiosperm would covet.” Or, conversely, “The Clapfire XZ1400R is one of the finest machines ever conceived by Man, or possibly Woman, and I think you'd look good on it.”

Mr. Advice, that was me.

These days, of course, 1 live in Wisconsin and get to California maybe three or four times a year. So every time I drop by the Cycle World offices,

I try to make up for lost time by riding every interesting bike the Good Editors will let me have at.

Sadly, the constraints of time are such that I usually go right for the top shelf. For instance, if there are six 400cc commuter bikes and one Ducati 916 in the garage, I will usually ask to ride the 916. Then, if there is ample time left over, I will ask to ride the 916 again.

Naturally, I miss a lot of the great and not-so-great ones, because bikes come and bikes go, and more often than not am often not there, so to speak.

Still, I thought it might be fun to reprise a couple of the more memorable short-term rides I’ve had-two that generated some evangelical impulse to spread the word. Never mind that these bikes have been tested, analyzed and compared by the CW staff on these pages before; a little personal revelation never hurts, and I must speak out. Here we go.

Yamaha V-Max: At the urging of the staff, I finally rode the amazing Max last year, having previously averted my eyes from this otherworldly beast for fear of going blind or losing my balance. Yes, 1 know it's outrageous on purpose, but I have thus far not been able to imagine the lapse in my stuffy sense of aesthetics that would allow one of these monsters to rest in my garage. But I never say never anymore. Conclusions after several days of riding?

If Martians arrived on Earth with no preconceptions of earthly style or decorum and you lined up every bike made on this planet and told the openminded Martians to pick which was the most fun and had the best engine, I believe they would unanimously pick the V-Max.

By my lights, this is simply the best real-world powerplant ever put into a production motorcycle. It idles smoothly, yet sounds like a small-block Chevy and revs like a Cosworth F-l engine. It also pulls like a truck, right at the speeds where most of us ride.

Grab a handful between, say, 40 and 70 mph, and it simply slams your lungs against the back of your rib cage and launches you down the road like rasping, howling fury. You spend the whole ride either chuckling or gasping. All with a low, comfortable seat and a trouble-free shaft drive. It doesn’t handle quite like a pure roadracer, but it ain't bad.

I honestly believe that if either Harley or Ducati could somehow disguise this engine and stick it in their own frames, no one would ever ride anything else.

Now, where's my Martian outfit?

1994 Honda VFR750: Where the V-Max is good brutal fun. the VFR is...ethereal.

Like everyone else. I'd read all the articles that picked the old VFR750 as best sport-tourer, best 750, best allaround motorcycle, best darned pal a guy ever had. and so on. I'd ridden one around the block once, but didn’t have enough seat time to form a lasting impression.

Then, last summer, I happened by CW when the new, lighter, more refined red VFR had just been tested, and Mr. Edwards let me take it for two ' full days of mountain road riding, one solo and one two-up with Barb. And?

Charmed would be the word.

First, the engine is pretty wonderful. It’s a Four that sounds and feels kind of like a V-Twin, but also kind of like the Honda V-Four Joey Dunlop rides around the Isle of Man in my favorite camera-on-bike video. Strong midrange and throttle response like a fuelinjected Ducati. It is always fun and rewarding to twist that grip, any time, any speed. You have to be lugging it badly to catch the engine off-guard.

Suspension is taut yet amazingly compliant, brakes superb. The way the front and back tires soak up road ripples and hold a line in a corner is almost sublime. Hell, it is sublime. There is no other bike I've yet ridden that feels quite so friendly and surefooted. slicing from one corner into the next. Pure pleasure.

The VFR is not as tourable as a BMW, quick as a V-Max, fast as a ZX1 1. racy as a GSX-R or as light and good looking as a Ducati. But it blends some of the best traits from each to produce what I think is the most balanced roadbike I have thus far ridden. Period. A fine motorbike.

Now, if Honda would just paint it black (no purple graphics like the last black VFR, please) like the European version. I'm not crazy about the odd combination of ducts or the matte-black undertray, and a darker color seems to mask some of the discontinuities.

In black, it would be perfect, of course, and I'd have to buy one. Best leave it as is.

There. That's off my chest.

If 1 get another chance to ride anything interesting, you can be sure I'll report back, however late. At present. I'm attempting to book my next California vacation on some random week when CW has, by sheer coincidence, a new Triumph Triple in the garage.