"It’s a sensible buy because..." I rehearsed a few lines should they be needed... "much safer in the snow with those knobbly tyres” (I use a bike daily, winter and summer).. "UMG isn’t too happy about the long term reliability of the Honda twin cam fours..." but within a few days I was feeling like a teenager on a first date as I waited to pick up a very new used bike - 17 miles on the clock.
Getting onto the bike always reminds me of Lawrence of Arabia (5’ 2") getting onto the back of a huge camel. He sat in front of the hump, but on the Transalp you sit at the foothill of a huge tank with, a bijou fairingette somewhere in the middle distance. You can just about touch the floor with your feet: maybe bikes like trousers should have labels with the inside leg measurements.
I rode it cautiously away to find within a few seconds that the speedo didn’t work. A somewhat shamefaced mechanic reseated the drive cable properly into the front hub as his colleagues jeered "pre-delivery inspection," in an unsupportive manner. I had made an effort to read the "reviews" of the Transalp in the monthly motorcycle comics - I still wonder who pays some of these hack writers who didn't appear to have ridden the same machine that I now had. When it was run in, it seemed happy to cruise at eighty and and would obviously run up to higher speeds but the sit up and beg trail bike stance starts to do wonders for the biceps and shoulder muscles if you do it for long.
There was a marked lack of the reported high speed vibrations once the engine mounting bolts had been tightened to a reasonable level. And despite what has been written, it will stay up quite securely on the side stand. The engine is basically a bored out VT500 with chain drive and has the same unburstable feel. As usual with Hondas, the chain needs lubing and and adjusting regularly to stop gear changes becoming totally agricultural. One of those clever oilers from that nice Mr. Scott solves most of the problems. Apart from this, it has shown no sign over the first year of needing more than very basic attention.
I've come to believe, from running a variety of Hondas, that the engines need lots of oil changes but otherwise can be left alone. Professional magazine hacks have been heard to evince some surprise that Transalps cab be ridden off road successfully. The truth is, of course, that any bike can be ridden off the road - it helps if you don’t need to commute to work on it the next day, but it’s not actually vital.
In the thankfully less civilised north, the easiest way from one place to another is often over some usually unsurfaced road. The antics on legendary unmade roads, like the one over Ilkley Moor, have to be seen to be believed. I once followed a Bonnie (with clip-ons) on a Daytona over this short but spectacular trail without thinking much of it at the time. Those, as they say, were the days.
Anyway, most of the roads in Yorkshire are degenerating so rapidly that a challenging enduro event could be run round most council estates. Some off road ability is necessary for survival both bike and rider. Any bike that is half way designed to cope with rough stuff will probably do so quite well. The Transalp needs to be ridden quite boldly off road and mostly sitting down. Standing up and pretending too be Sammy Miller is pointless as the front wheel can’t be seen under the fairing.
You can bash around the local scenery quite comfortably and the pose value is good. A trip to Sainsburys? For all anyone knows, you could be starting the Paris Dakar. It comes with stickers on the side saying "Rally Sport” whose meaning is vague. It almost makes it as a good touring bike, but it needs ingenuity to make it carry a decent load of luggage. The dinky little rack looks pretty but will hold your sarny box and not much else. In desperation I bought an expensive tank bag, fitting a tank cover to protect the paint.
To get the ubiquitous throw-over panniers on without involuntary arson by the high level pipe, a bit of Mickey Mouse Engineering Inc (actually, a piece of alloy from a shower door) produced a serviceable - all right laughable - heat shield. Thus equipped we - the warthog, the nearest and dearest and a negotiated amount of luggage - set off for a trip round Western Ireland. I was surprised to find even with the the luggage and two ex-middleweights it handled acceptably once the monoshock was wound up a bit bit.
Another really good ride. Apart from the ferries that didn't run - "Why not go to Holyhead, I think there's a boat tonight" - and a week of solid rain, it was, of course, superb. The odd looking plastic hand protectors really do keep your pinkies quite dry. Ireland was a good we ground for the Honda. Not terribly good roads with a marked absence of traffic, although some drivers do have problems with the basics (like with which side of the road to drive on). The further you get out of the towns the worse the roads become - spectacularly neglected roads made me thank my choice of machine.
When we eventually returned, with a character building ride through the M62’s artificial chicanes in a cloud burst and a storm force wind, I realised that I'd done nothing in 1200 miles apart from put petrol in it. Which, of course, is as it should be: the fact is I hadn't even thought of doing anything else.
It’s not perfect. It eats rear tyres at a disgusting rate (4/5000 miles) and I am not totally happy about throwing it into bends with gay abandon shod with half worn semi knobblies. Maybe I’m petting old? Experience suggests that the matt black finish on the exhaust and the pregnant silencer won't last and will rust whatever I do to it. But these seem minor things as, above all, it is fun, and looked at in cost mile even quite cheap fun. Why have they sold so few of them?
Bill Lakin