We drove to where it had been found, he continued to use the word “found” right up to the point where we got out of his car. It had been crashed and then dumped. I found an absolute wreck, my beautiful white bike, with its sleek curving lines, was a total mess. Bits pulled off, bits bent, body panels missing, the locking petrol cap prised off with a screwdriver. I could have cried.
What I did was collapse in a heap of disbelief when they told me that I was going to have to push it home on my own! It was too big to fit in the back of their Land Rover and they were short staffed (bloody Tories) so they couldn't help me push it. What better way to spend a Sunday evening.
After a couple of miles I was too wet and knackered to be pissed off any more; the bike was no longer my sleek beauty, but 200kg of dead weight, and I wasn't home yet. Pushing it back confirmed that it was not well; it wouldn't go in a straight line, and there were some very strange noises coming from within. When I got home I just left it out in the rain, I didn’t lock it as I’d had my lock nicked as well. Also if anyone was capable of starting it and riding off, then good luck to them - no-one was going to steal it by pushing it away. By now my apple crumble was cold, the custard was lumpy, I was cold, wet and knackered... great.
A couple of months later, my insurance company wrote it off and sent me the money for it. It had been a good bike, I’d had a lot of fun on it and put in a good few miles. I'd bought it with 2300 on the clock, nine months old. I can still remember going into the showroom and seeing it standing there. I decided immediately that I was going to have it. The salesman knew straight away that he had a sale. My, ‘Well, I'm not sure if it’s the bike for me,’ was met with the basic truth, ‘Go on, it’s a wonderful bike, you'll love it,’ said the salesman.
The test ride revealed that the bike handled like a dream, was I going to have fun, or what? My only concern was the legacy the self-destructing top ends of the VF500 had left but I was assured the VFR had none of these problems. The bike turned heads and attracted comment like nothing I've ever owned.
I'd come from Newcastle on a GS550 only a few months earlier and had already found that riding in London was going to be a different experience from riding anywhere else. If you live there you'll know what I mean, everyone going for any gap, taking every opportunity that presents itself. You need to give the road 100% of your attention but you also need to give another 100% to the car drivers who'll have you off in no time. At least I’d been riding bikes for quite a few years so I was no learner, although I was going to have to relearn a few things quick or I'd not survive long on London roads.
I worked in Hammersmith and lived south of the river, so to get to work I had the interesting experience of trying to get around Hammersmith Broadway in the rush hour. You need a responsive machine and your wits about you, believe me. The Broadway is a gigantic roundabout, and one of the busiest junctions in London. The real difficulties came when it was solid with cars, an amazing sight. The traffic would build up and the speed cars could go around would fall and fall until it would just choke and grind to a halt. All of the exit roads were totally clear, it was just that everyone on the roundabout who was at an exit wanted to go to another one! Being on a bike made things easy, the cars were stationary or moving real slow so it was no problem to weave in and out of them.
The VFR was great at this, with its fairly low centre of gravity it was easy to control at low speeds, even a nine stone weakling like me had no problems even though the bike weighed over 430lbs. Once moving the VFR showed its abilities again, with a quick twist of the throttle it’d rush through the speed limits by a wild margin. It's one easy bike to lose a licence upon. The police eventually descended on the Broadway’s chaos as even on Sunday it was becoming gridlocked.
I soon got into the swing of things on the VFR. The way it all works on the street, and how to avoid getting totalled by car drivers who can't take it any more, go crazy and drive off into the sunset with their eyes closed. However the problems start when you want to drive off into the sunset or somewhere nice, when you want to leave London for the weekend.
London is like a hole (in many ways it’s not like a hole, it is hole) and like a hole it can be very tricky to get out of. The problem is that almost everyone else wants to get away from Friday to Monday. This means that roads out of London are very busy on Friday. I mean busy in a way you have to experience to understand it. All the motorways out of London become six lane car-parks!
Driving north up the M1 is something else, three lanes of solid traffic for mile after mile all moving at 2mph if at all, means that a bike is the only way to make any progress. Once again the VFR showed its class. Driving along between lanes of slow moving traffic the bike has to be at ease at low speed even when fully laden, and the brakes have to stop you dead to avoid death, as some drivers suddenly switch lanes. The VFR’s three discs are brilliant.
I had to ride from London to Cardiff, was late leaving as I'd been messed around by various people. So I left with three hours to do it in, not too bad and as I was driving fairly fast I was sure there would be no problems. The bike has a quoted top speed of 150mph, whether it could ever actually do that I don’t know as I never made it up to those heady heights, mainly because the fairing is quite small and I found it a bit awkward to get down behind it. The strain on my neck muscles trying to stop my head being whipped off became the limiting factor. I can believe it could do 150mph, as even two up it could toot along at a fair old lick.
The VFR had no fuel gauge, I only found that the 4.4 gallon tank was running low when I had to go on to reserve (which held a full gallon). As I was achieving almost 40mpg, when the bike went on to reserve with twenty miles to the next M4 services I wasn't too worried. After a couple of miles I came to some road works, one of those that takes you on to the other carriageway, riding the wrong way along the outside lane. However, it also meant I passed the services. Once back on the correct side of the motorway, I had half a gallon and 30 miles to the next services. Not surprisingly it died. When the RAC turned up I was back on my way.
Long trips up to Yorkshire on the M1 resulted in only an occasional ache and pain. The riding position was very comfortable, though at speed I had to tuck down as the rather small fairing directed the wind down pretty low. I’m told the ride for a pillion was good with a grab-rail and well placed pegs. I did have stiff legs on long rides but that happens on any bike the sight of a biker stretching their legs out, wriggling their feet and flexing their leq muscles to loosen up must make car drivers, who've never ridden a bike, wonder what's going on.
One trip in particular is very memorable, I'd been in Leeds and left for home at about 10pm on Sunday night. I was wondering why the M1 was so quiet. Just before a junction the overhead gantry lights were showing all lanes closed. A plane had crashed! Off the motorway with directions to the next junction. That was shut too, so more directions. Eventually, I stopped in a little village; totally lost! A van came hurtling past so I sped off after that, which took me to the junction outside Loughborough. I had visions of waiting until the morning in the village!
Eventually, I rode off up the M1 and I never went back, now I live in Lancaster. I came off the bike once, two up on a country road. I was taking it very easily as there were a lot of sheep around, and I figured they may be clued up on the green grass, but they didn't know the Green Cross Code too well. Suddenly one of them decided the grass was greener on the other side, and bolted across the tarmac right in front of me. I had already slowed down to about 10mph, but it clipped my front wheel and we were off.
Fortunately, we weren't hurt and the bike still went (a good job as we were miles from anywhere). I found the local cop shop and went in. I was furious. I was going to have the farmer locked up and sue him for everything he had, allowing his sheep to wander about being a danger. However, I was told that as this was an unfenced road the sheep had right of way! How can the law give right of way to an animal that doesn't have two brain cells to rub together?
The VFR750 could turn its hand to anything - commuting, touring and Sunday thrashing. A good bike, I put over 20000 miles on it with no trouble at all (well, if you don't count getting lost and a little problem with sheep). Well, its gone to the great car park in the sky, and I'm faced with a huge problem - what am I going to replace it with?
Looking through my copy of the UMG there seems to be so much choice. Any number of Japanese machines look really good, then there's some solid German engineering or some flash Italian job. Alternatively I could opt for the devil I know, another Honda VFR750 - only it's not a devil, it's an angel.
Bob Lauder