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Of all the motorcycles that tempt those in the storms of mid-life, the 'cruiser' is paramount. Cruisers are 'ships that sail to and fro,' according to my Oxford dictionary. In the motorcycling universe, cruisers trundle to and fro for short distances. They appeal to cautious souls who want merely to sip rather than drown at the well of motorcycling pleasure. Rich old geezers such as the late Malcolm Forbes liked to 'cruise' on Harley-Davidsons. Our own wealthy male menopause victim, Peter de Savary, has been known to convene meetings of fellow Harley enthusiasts at his Berkshire stately home. The old goats sit right back, arms wide on bullhorn handlebars, legs forward on stainless steel pegs, and think they're Peter Fonda in Easy Rider. They don't venture out if it's windy, rainy or cold, and - whatever the weather - they never go very far. Out for a pose, home in time for tea. Have a safe male menopause. Earlier this year, a Harley dealer in Tucson, Arizona, told me that his main customers now were business executives. They sat wheeling and dealing in air-conditioned offices, all day but felt their manhood restored after a cruise on their hogs. Their machines were 'fully dressed' with extras, and often the riders wore fancy-stitched leather jackets and silk bandanas around their silly heads. Cruisers also appeal to younger fantasists of both sexes who enjoy burbling aimlessly around our city centres, like stray dogs, parking at pubs and cafes with outside tables. Bike-makers now produce a wide range of 'learner cruisers' such as Honda's VT12SC Shadow (3,345 pounds), Kawasaki'sl2Scc Eliminator (2,835 pounds), Suzuki's GN12SR (2,324 pounds), and Yamaha's SR125E (2,199 pounds). The smallest Harley shipped here, the 883cc Hugger (5,295 pounds), has a low seat and is described leeringly by Bike magazine as 'one for the ladies'. The biggest cruiser is Yamaha's XV1600 Wild Star (8,499 pounds), a huge machine which - like Kawasaki's rival VN 1500 Classic (7,780 pounds) - is a beautifully engineered, modern salute to the Harleys and Indians of long ago. For my money, the most extraordinary retro cruiser is Honda's American-built, shaft-driven F6C Valkyrie (lO,595Pounds) - 1500cc, water-cooled, six cylinders and enough chrome to clad the Millennium Dome. This is a stripped-down version of Honda's Goldwing, a 'tourer' with every comfort short of an en-suite bathroom and electrically operated curtains. It takes the breath away. The engine looks - and is - huge; the headlight is big enough to lash on top of a lighthouse; the handlebars are immense. Hit the starter, though, and it purrs like a pussycat. There's no granny-frightening Ducati crack of thunder, no Honda Blackbird big cat snarl; lust a mild, warp drive Starship Enterprise hum. There's no centre stand. What would be the point! It would take three strong men at least to hoist the F6C on to it. Sit on it, push the bike to vertical off the side stand,feel the weight of this thing (309 kg 'dry'). It's like being-perched on a two-wheeled Jumbo Jet, sans wings. You-think: how many people will be needed on ropes and-pulleys if I drop it! Maybe it's too heavy ever to be raised-upright if it falls over. Can any motorcycle this heavy-handle? It doesn't seem likely. Perhaps it isn't meant to be-ridden at all but just wheeled from a van and parked in-poseworthy venues. I've sat on all types and sizes of bikes, but never one with the physical presence of the F6C. We're outside Honda's UK HQ at Chiswick, just north of the flyover carrying the M4. The traffic's heavy, as usual, and I'd planned to take the flyover east to Kensington. I've ridden this route plenty of times, on faster motorcycles than the F6C, but, for the first time, I sit for a while, the engine ticking over, my feet on the ground, and have a think before nicking the gear down into first and committing myself. Inching out into the Chiswick jam, I'm surprised by how manageable the F6C is, even while trickling along. Somehow it balances beautifully at slower-than-walking speeds. The wide bars don't allow the kind of jam-cheating, lane-filtering I enjoy on my much-slimmer Blackbird, although it is possible to duck and weave through heavy traffic on an F6C. I won't say I was soon chucking it-about like a pedal-bike but, a mile or so into my debut-ride, I'd forgotten about its huge weight. Then came a red stop light and another important-test. How does it react when you give it a handful away from lights! Again, it's good news. Massive, creamy-power, the traffic behind diminishing in the mirrors which - despite my pouring on the power remains clear because the mirrors don't vibrate. Unfussily, the F6C flies into the horizon. Now another important test. How does it stop? Recently, I was a passenger on a Jumbo which was well into its takeoff run, when the pilot decided to abort. Since-we were fully laden with fuel, this was an exciting experience. Objects flew from the stowage bins, there were-unearthly screeching noises from the undercarriage and the sound of flying utensils in the galley sounded like a duel to the death between temperamental London chefs Marco Pierre White and Gordon Ramsay. Although the fault was soon fixed, we spent two hours on the ground --'letting the brakes cool' according to a member of the-crew or, more likely, replacing them altogether. There was no such drama on the F6C. The huge double discs on the front and single on the rear scrubbed off-speed without fuss or effort. Two fingers on the front-brake lever were enough and a few gentle nudges with my right toe on the back stoppers. I expect the F6C retains the brakes of the Goldwing, which, at 372kg· 'dry', is some 63kg heavier. You need real big brakes to stop a Goldie with 2OOkg of people and luggage aboard. On the move, the F6C clears dawdling motorists like a collie does sheep. Seeing that amount of rolling metal in the mirrors makes some drivers steer out of its way. It's quite tractable in town, though. It's also reasonably easy to park, although it's worth remembering not to get your toe under the side stand when you're laying the beast to rest. For a photo-opportunity, I stopped off at an American- style diner on the A40 out of London called Starvin' Marvin's. Maybe ol' Marvin would let me drive the shiny monster right into his diner and, with a waitress or two on the back, I could do a few laps of his counter as the jukebox cranked out some suitable rock accompaniment. Alas, an hour after opening time, there was no sign of Starvin'. His pinched-looking staff of two, a boy and a girl, gave up and went home. They said the outlet was the first of a nationwide chain. Marvin will remain Starvin' if he doesn't sharpen up his act. So, it was west up the M40 for 60 miles to see how the F6C handles on a fast run. The speedo registers speeds of up to 15Omph, but other testers have said 110 mph is about the bike's limit. I found the best cruise speed is about 80mph. Although there's no screen, the wind battering at- that speed is tolerable, and the range - about 115 miles before you need to switch on the reserve tank - is fine. It was my misfortune, however, to hit an horrendous bout of really bad weather 15 miles from my destination. Very high winds and lashing rain brought motorway speeds down to about 50 mph. On a lighter bike, I'd have had a hard time, but there wasn't so much as a weave on the F6C. It wasn't pleasant - why hadn't I asked Honda to lend me an F6C in Miami instead of London! - but the bike itself didn't give me much anxiety. Next day, with the sun shining, I rode it around Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire, on weaving, undulating country roads. This is where it comes into its true element. It can go fast, slow and round bends better than any cruiser I'd previously ridden. Once you're no longer intimidated by its size, and have become familiar with its simple controls, the F6C is a pussycat. If I owned one, I'd keep it for nice days in spring, summer and autumn, and take it off the road altogether in winter. You'd weep to see that lovely chrome dulled by spray from nasty, salted winter-time roads. There's a pillion seat with an armrest which is very comfortable. The chatelaine of Manse McKay - no fan of motorcycles - said she could imagine bowling through summertime France on the back of such a machine, her party frock and other finery wrapped carefully in tissue paper inside studded cowhide panniers. It is what she calls a 'proper' motorcycle. Indeed it is. Some of the fastest, most desirable machines don't look like much when you kill the engine and ease them on to the stand, but the F6C doesn't let you down at any time in the appearance department. This is Posemobile Plusorama. · Article by NIGHT&DAY DECEMBER 26, 1999 Peter McKay |
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