Or, “It’s still frikken cold out there!”

Battery problems solved, I was eager to scrub-in the new Dunlop Qualifier tires the dealership had installed on the VFR prior to my purchase.  I’m wondering how bad the old tires had to be for the shop to invest in a brand new set.  I waited until the afternoon on Saturday, hoping the sun would peek through the scattered clouds and spread its warmth before I headed out into the March air.  Around 1pm, I hooked up the pigtail connector for my Widder electric vest to the VFR’s new battery.  It felt warm outside of my apartment, so I headed out without the vest, the pigtail connected, but tucked neatly under the seat.  As I would realize later, that was a big mistake.

I had decided to hit the familiar roads nearby, as a better way to assess the VFR’s capabilities and also to not end up too far from home in case something (else) went wrong mechanically.  I shot up I-95 to the exit for New Hope, which actually puts you closer to Washington’s Crossing, several miles south of New Hope.  After creeping through a crowded New Hope (”No Hope” as we call it in the summer months, due to the crowds that make it difficult to get through town), I continued north on Rt 32 to the nicer twisty bits.  I was happy to see that Dilly’s was already open for the season, and I was tempted to stop for a burger and ice cream, but I never liked the gravel lot, and tackling it with an unfamiliar bike didn’t seem very appealing, so I continued north on 32.

Once the Delaware River came fully into view, I realized the depth of my mistake in not bringing the heated vest.  The temperature dropped a full five degrees compared to riding through the woods.  The cold became quite distracting.  Luckily, the VFR handles well, and riding at sedate speeds required very little concentration on the road.  Farther up 32, across the river from Milford, NJ, I decided to loop west to Rt 611 and back south towards home.  Turning left on Bridgeton Hill Road, and meandering through some nice twisty back roads, I kept a generally west heading and ended up hitting 611 at Revere.  The ride home was still cool, but quick.

The next day, Sunday, I had plans to meet my buddy Todd for some riding.  I met Todd at the 48 Hours of TriState Subaru charity run the past two years - he’s a fellow Forester owner - and he recently asked if I would be interested in joining him for a 4-week circumnavigation of the USA on motorcycles some time next year (more on that later).  He has a 1994 BMW K75, highly farkled with driving lights, GPS, and electrical hook-ups.  He picked the area near York, PA to meet up at noon, and I picked the spot: the Round the Clock Diner, just a few blocks from the Harley-Davidson factory.

Over a great breakfast, we made plans to ride up around the Harrisburg area and over towards Lancaster.  I didn’t have my GPS, but Todd had his, so he led the rest of the day.  I wish I could say where we were, but most of the time I was just following.  I know we pretty much looped Harrisburg, then ended on the northern edge of Lancaster.

This time, I had my electric heated vest, and was quite comfortable.  Temps hovered around 50 all day, a little cooler on the morning ride across the PA Turnpike to the meeting spot.  The VFR performed like a champ, easily keeping pace with Todd and his Beemer, railing through some unfamiliar back roads with nary a pucker-moment.  The only uneasy part was a sharp turnaround on a very narrow and sloped road (it looked like a driveway), but that might have been worse on the top-heavy Bandit.

By the end of the day, the new Dunlops were pretty much scrubbed of the mold-release film on its carcass and most of the little spikes.  Only huge chicken-strips remained on the tires.  Apparently, I have more rust to scrape off.  I hope it warms up soon!

Or, “Redheads are fussy.”

I picked up my new-to-me 1999 Honda VFR800I on a cool Thursday in March.  That Friday at work, the clock moved slower than it had in months.  After dropping off my car-pool partner and zipping home in my Forester, I was eager to take the Viffer out for a Friday night date.

Quickly donning the leather gear - with the insulated liner in the jacket to ward off the cool March air - and grabbing my good ol’ Shoei dragon helmet, I scurried downstairs to the garage.  A turn of the key lit up the gauges; flicking the engine cut-off switch to the ON position sent the fuel injection system humming for a full second and a half; thumbing the starter button rewarded me with…click-click.  Damn!  In disbelief, I tried it several more times, with the same results.  The dealership gave me a bum battery!

I pulled the battery from the Bandit and found that they are the same size.  Too bad the Bandit’s been sitting since last September, and its battery was in the same state of discharge.  No time to screw around with the dealership - they’ll just give me another used battery near the end of it’s life anyway.  I jumped back in the Subie and hit the Cycle Gear store in Springfield, PA for a new battery. Back home, the Schumacher Battery Companion had it charged in less than an hour, and this gave me time to grab a light dinner and check the usual motorcycle message boards, including my newest find: VFRDiscussion.com.

With some daylight still left, the new battery brought the V-4 motor to life and put a big smile on my face.  Too late (and getting too cold) for a proper ride to a proper dinner, I decided to just run it downtown to show it off to some friends.  I spent two hours at Paddy’s Pub (yes, the one from the show - I’ve been going there since 1995, long before it was famous) sipping water with lemon, realizing that I don’t like smoky bars when I’m sober.  On the way home, I stopped at a diner for a late snack; or was it because I just didn’t want the ride to end yet?

So, what did I learn in my first day with the 1999 VFR?  Well, in no particular order:

• Don’t assume a dealership has gone over everything on the bike.  Check it yourself and ask every question that pops into your head.
• There’s no replacement for displacement.  While the VFR and the Bandit both have published peak horsepower numbers at 105 (stock), the Bandit has so much more available torque down low.  Considering that’s where I tend to ride most of the time, especially around town, the VFR felt a little down on power until I spun up the V-4 a bit, then the power felt comparable.
• The turn signal switch requires a very deliberate touch.  I don’t think this is just because the bike is 10 years old - I’ve ridden older bikes with lighter signal switchgear - but I find I really have to push on the switch to get the signal to come on.  Maybe it’s a Honda thing.  Not a big deal, really, but it’s something that stands out in my mind.
• Handling on the VFR is subconscious, compared to the Bandit.  Turning the Bandit sometimes required some forethought, especially as speeds picked up.  The VFR, by comparison, just turns where I want, when I want, without any real planning or conscious thought.  I’ve read that others think the VFR is heavy and slow-turning compared to true sportbikes, but since I have little experience on such machines, the VFR might as well be one as far as I’m concerned.
• The VFR turns heads!  Sure, the Bandit got looks, both in original S-model silver plastic and in recent black streetfighter form, but most of those were confused “What the hell is that?” looks.  The VFR gets those “That’s a good-looking bike!” looks.
• The VFR could use some new brake pads.  I’m thinking the dealership let me down again, and just put some cheap pads on it to pass inspection.  It stops well enough, but even the linked brakes seem weak compared to the Bandit’s six-piston front calipers and braided-steel lines.
• It’s still cold, but the bugs are out already, and they like the VFR too.  The VFR’s windscreen puts a lot of air flow right into my helmet visor.  Bugs ride the wind up through the windscreen’s vent and die horribly just inches from my eyes.  Oh, the humanity,…er, the insectity!
• If I’m gonna stay sober, I might as well stay home.  Bars are smelly, nasty places to hang out, and only alcohol makes them tolerable.  Well, alcohol or a gorgeous sexy redhead, even if she is a bit fussy.

Or, “Laziness Is Expensive.”

A whole winter went by, and I didn’t work on the Bandit.  It had been acting up last September, as if it were running on three cylinders between 4k and 8k rpms.  I had spent a few days then trying to track down the problem, but ended up just putting the big Suzuki away in the garage when my work sent me out of town for a few weeks.  This winter was cold, and so was my garage, so I was not motivated to get any work done until the chill subsides.  It has yet to warm up, but with our annual Deal’s Gap trip coming up in April, I was getting antsy about having a reliable bike for the trip.  So, in lieu of working on the Bandit in a cold garage, I just bought another bike.

After a quick loan approval from my credit union and a trip to East Coast Honda in Bensalem, PA, I was pumped to pick up something very different than the Bandit.  After enjoying a few long leisurely days touring around PA last summer, I had been considering a Suzuki DL650 V-Strom for its fuel efficiency and ability to handle broken asphalt and gravel roads.  Apparently, V-Strom owners really love their bikes, because there are no used ones to be had in these parts.  My decision came down to a 2002 Suzuki SV650 or a 1999 Honda VFR800i.

The SV was the naked kind, with upright handlebars and no excessive plastic, much like the Bandit.  The idea was to make the SV a canyon carver and track bike, while the old Bandit could be set up more for touring.  The VFR is a beautiful bike, with more soul than any other modern Honda (which isn’t saying much, really), and like V-Strom owners, VFR owners tend to keep them forever, which does say a lot.

I really had to decide what role I wanted the Bandit to play in order to decide what type of “new” bike to get.  The Bandit fits every role very well with just a few modifications, but I’ve been leery about it’s long-distance reliability, especially since it’s a rebuild from two totaled bikes.  For a touring bike, I prefer at least an upper fairing, to keep the wind and occasional rain at bay.  Fitting the S-fairing back onto the Bandit would require not only the front sub-frame, but also a new wiring harness (or some creative splicing) to affix the S-model lights/gauges to the N-model frame’s electrical system.  The VFR, on the other hand, has been touted as the best sport-touring bike ever made, and the Bandit is just fine as it is for day-tripping and local hooliganism.  I was leaning towards the VFR, but several of my riding buddies are really into the track days, and I was inclined to find the right track tool, like an SV650, with which to join them this year.

After two days of deliberating, I returned to East Coast Honda, planning on starting up both the SV and VFR and see which one speaks to me more.  Well, someone else made things easier for me by buying the SV earlier that day.  I had the salesman, Aaron, roll the VFR outside and crank it up for me.  That characteristic cam gear whine, and the slight V-4 rumble sang to me like a chorus of angels.  It was enough for me to overlook some slight damage to the upper fairing, obviously from a low-speed tip-over.  The next day, I was riding my “new” VFR home to the stable, where my Bandit is still in need of some TLC.