The most exciting thing I ever did in my life had nothing to do with motorcycling but riding the Super Four around Britain in the summer of '96 comes close. Recall those long, hot days and imagine how well a motorcycle fits into the scheme of things, especially with the tail end of June '97 turning into winter. Better still on a bike like the 1996 Honda CB400 Super Four which has none of the intrusive nastiness of the race replica greys but most of their performance.
The more I rode the bike, the more the mileage piled up, the more I became convinced that here was the perfect motorcycle. The one area where it was lacking was low rev torque, the engine much preferring to run above 10,000 revs than below it. Oh, it was smooth and civilized at low revs without any transmission lash but there didn't seem any motive power at the end of the throttle.
For once the world's largest motorcycle manufactuer spent some time and effort on the gearbox, turning out a unit that was almost as slick as Suzuki's best, which is as good as it gets. That made working the six speeds and light throttle a pure pleasure; invigorating rather than the usual pain in the butt.
Beware, though, the gearboxes are somewhat variable, perhaps dependent on regular oil changes or merely mileage - I test rode three other low mileage bikes before chosing mine which lacked entirely the clunkiness of two of them. I had a feeling that they had been clocked as patches of the paint were heavily worn around the back of the tank!
Given the need to rev the balls off the engine, I wouldn't recommend buying one unless it has a really slick gearbox. My bike also came with a modified ignition pack, removing the 53hp restriction inflicted by the Japanese market and also cutting out the rev limiter. The engine was quite happy to rev to 16000rpm in the first three gears but didn't have the power to hold those revs in the taller ratios, which were limited to 15000rpm maximum. It's worth checking if the bike's restricted or not as a few extra horses at this kind of power level can make all the difference.
The engine made a lovely howl when on cam, partly down to its nature and partly down to the fact that some hoodlum had drilled holes in the silencer's end. When the power punched it in was sudden enough to give the bike some character and though it was probably no more than 60 horses its emphatic nature made it seem like more. Call it great fun and you wouldn't be far wrong. Much more so than most Japanese middleweights.
The bike wasn't exactly a lightweight at 380lbs - in fact the old 1976 CB400F only weighed 30lbs more though it had much less power. But consider the technology it was carrying. 16 valves, DOHC's and watercooling, though the radiator's tiny. The steel tubular frame added a bit more mass, but I didn't mind as it was well triangulated around both the swinging arm and steering head mounts.
The end result of its mass was a secure feel on the road, lacking some of ultra quick reactions of the pure race replica breeds but still being very easy steering. Helping along the relaxed feel of the steering was a perfect riding position, so natural that within moments of imposing my body on the bike I felt like I'd been riding it for years. Contrast that with the instant agony of the replicas, which only make any sense once above the ton.
The Honda was fun at all speeds. Rowing along at maximum revs in second or third for the relatively slow work provided a marvellous blast of adrenaline and got the blood flowing. The howl had packs of dogs trying to take nips out of my legs but I was usually moving too fast for them to catch me.
Using the power in the taller gears extracted some back up torque from the engine. At the ton, or even the ton-ten, in top gear the bike had an animal force that allowed it to maintain its velocity with absolutely no effort against such obstacles as large hills or strong winds. By 120mph it was feeling tired and troubled but would eventually put 125 on the clock. Probably a true 120mph on a good day.
I dare say it would've been fun to have mind blowing power at the ton that would shove the bike up to 170mph in the blink of an eye, but I could live without it, given what the cops would do to my licence if I was ever caught at such velocities. Most of the time I didn't go above 100mph and the performance limits of having a mere 400cc motorcycle didn't really come into it.
Because the riding position was so good, I found little to complain about the saddle for the first 80 miles or so, then it became a bit hard but survivable for another 20 or 30 miles when I had to pull over for a quick flex of my legs. The tank took over three and a half gallons of fuel, would do a minimum of 150 miles but could often be eked out for 200 miles.
Fuel varied from 43 to 62mpg, mostly in the 50 to 55mpg range. Not brilliant but acceptable. Tyres didn't do more than 6000 miles, though the chain had an easy life and rarely needed any attention. As I'm gentle on the brakes I haven't worn out the pads yet - and neither do the discs show any sign of thinness, a common Honda malaise.
The chassis paint shone beautifully when I bought the bike, managed to retain most of its shine over the winter. The downpipes were slightly speckled with rust and a little bit of alloy rot attacked the forks and cylinder head - both easily cleaned up. The bike appeared to have a better quality of finish than most official imports - so much for rumours spread about them not being up to spec.
Some of the grey importers are bringing in brand new Super Fours at around the four grand mark, which doesn't compare with 600 Bandits on performance but has better quality and is rather less ubiquitous. £2500 to £3500 buys a low mileage, near immaculate example from the importers and you may find one cheaper still in a private deal. Good value if you like this style of bike.
Having been impressed with the ease with which the Honda snapped around the UK, this year I'm off on a Continental tour. Don't know where, just leap on the bike and head south in search of wild roads and crazy babes. If you don't try you don't get lucky.
Graham Thomas