Valdez Bikesong

I jokingly told my friends the first day I rode my "new-to-me" GL1100 to work that it had all the handling of an oil barge.

I said I should name it the "Exxon Valdez" after the famous oil tanker that spilled its oil on the Alaskan shore all those years ago.

They all laughed.

I've been riding it for about a week now, and they asked me, "So, how was your ride in today on the Valdez?"

I said, "You know, it doesn't handle so much like an oil barge now that I've gotten used to it."

I'm starting to like it. It took a while to get used to the bigger bike, heavier bike feel.

It took a while to get used to its groans and grunts. To know when it is just singing, and to know when it is complaining. Mostly it sings.

It has an eery, sci-fi song like I've never heard before. It is nothing like my old bike.

My V30 had a fascinating hybrid characteristic: At low RPM it rumbled like a V-Twin Cruiser; at higher RPM it whined like an inline-four Sport Bike. Fascinating to have both characteristics in one motor.

My new bike has a rumbling complaint if you lug it down too low. It sounds downright crabby. It's like, "I'll do what you ask, but you gotta give me something to work with here!"

But give it plenty of throttle and it hums, and the hum climbs up and fades to a shrill whisper. Yes, a whisper. I swear it's quieter at 60 than at 40. Whereas the V30 would whine like a sport bike, this Wing is too refined to whine. It gives a sighing whisper. Sort of like the "Ahhhhhhhh" sound people made in the commercial after they took the Nestea plunge.

It's amazingly solid in corners. It loves the sweepers, but is incredibly nimble, for a 770 lb bike, in the corners.