Test Drives

My wife's 40th birthday was yesterday.

I had secretly arranged for child care for the day, and planned a motorcycle outing for the two of us that was tailored to her tastes.

For those who don't know the story, my wife is the original motorcycle enthusiast in the family. She grew up on dirt bikes and Harley Davidsons with her father. We were married 15 years before I bought her a bike for her birthday -- a V30, three years ago. She's viewing the V30 as her introductory bike. She plans to some day "move up" to a HD.

Within a month of buying a bike for her, the bug bike bit me, and I bought another V30 for myself.

Unlike her, I don't view the move to HD as a "move up". A Harley is not in my future. And the more I learn and the more experience I gain, the clearer that becomes in my mind.

So from an MC perspective we have a mixed marriage. A Harley enthusiast and a Honda enthusiast. Under the same roof.

Our first stop was the local Victory dealer. She likes Harleys, but was curious about Victorys and wanted to comparison shop. This was her day, so I'm along for the ride. I want to ride every kind of motorcycle I can, even those I have no plans to own.

The local dealer offers test drives, so we picked out two. My wife picked out the Victory Kingpin Tour and I picked out the Victory Vegas 8-Ball. The Kingpin Tour had the saddlebags and trunk that made it a practical tourer. The Vegas 8-ball had the least chrome of any bike they had -- a totally blacked out engine -- so I figured I'd give it a shot.

We took the bikes unescorted on a dealer-prescribed four mile circuit, through city streets and a twisty parkway, and back to the dealer. Then switched bikes, and rode the circuit again. Too short of a run to really get a feel for the bikes.

The Kingpin reminded me of the GL1100 Wing in terms of comfort and acceleration. When I say it reminded me of the Wing in terms of acceleration, I mean that I asked it to move, and it whined and complained and clammored up to speed. This is why I no longer own the GL1100.

I liked the windshield height, the breeze still hit me in the face but was deflected from my chest. Personal preference.

Both were well balanced with weight down low. Easy off the stand and comfortable to sit on. Ergonomics were comfortable. I had never ridden with foreward controls and found them to be comfortable, more than I expected. The floorboards and heel-toe shifter were a new experience for me.

The 8-Ball was the better of the two, I suppose. It's like choosing between being shot and being stabbed. Neither is an option I would want. But at least the lower weight of the 8-Ball made it ever so slightly better on acceleration.

I asked about the new Victory Vision, having seen the write-up in Rider magazine. The dealer said they expected one in October. I think the Vision is fascinatingly hideous -- like a train wreck I can't look away from.

Back on our Magnas, we set out for Bloomington, IN. South end of Indy we pick up IN-135. Slowly the farm fields start to give way to the rolling tree-lined hills of southern Indiana. Picking up IN-45 from Beanblossom, IN to Bloomington, IN put me in mind of the Burr Oak area of Ohio. The road was almost completely devoid of traffic, had perfect pavement, and lots of tree-lined twisties. There was not a single gravel-strewn corner. Not a single guard rail. I led the way, and I watched in my rear view mirror at my wife leaning her baby magna into the turns, and flicking it back and forth through the S-curves. What a blast.

We were en route to Bloomington Harley Davidson Buell. This is my wife's birthday, so her choice in bikes rule.

For my part, I had hoped to ride a Ulysses. I had read the press, and wanted to try it out. It looked plausibly interesting.

Turns out they had no Ulysses on the showroom floor, so the dealer hooked me up with a XB12STT, which is more sporty in configuration.

My wife wanted to try a FXDWG - Dyna Wide Glide. They had none on the showroom floor, so we picked something similar, an FXDB -- Dyna Street Bob. This one has the narrow wheel up front, the 96 cubic inch motor, after market pipes, and ape hangers.

I had expected a dealer-escort along a four mile course. Instead, the kid handed us the keys, and told us not to be out too much past 4. It was 2:45. He pointed us toward a twisty road and said have fun.

Keep in mind this is my first experience with a sport riding position. Firing up the Buell, the mirrors start to shake. Plenty of power right down low on the tach. There was a brief moment that Ryder describes as "where the f*** are the footpegs", after which I found the pegs and had no problems in that department. The bike has the tiniest shifter peg and brake pedal I have ever seen, I spent the next half-hour hunting for the shifter lever.

The horrible shaking is really only noticeable at idle, and the bike has plenty of torque, of course. Plenty of power on tap, I couldn't lug it low enough for it to complain, and it surged happily forward like a quarter horse at about 5 grand on the tach. I could almost do this, I thought.

But I could not abide the riding position. I really felt like I was going to pitch over the handlebars. In an aggressive stop I really felt that the rear wheel would loft. I imagine my impressions would be different if I'd ever ridden a sport bike of any stripe before. But this was my first sort-of sport bike.

We rode for about 45 minutes out of town up an old twisty road. Found a place to pull over. Traded bikes for the 45 minute return trip.

"How did that feel?" I asked my wife of her Street Bob riding experience.

"All right," she said, unenthusiastically. "My ears are ringing."

I said, "You'll hate this one!" pointing at the Buell.

We switched. I rode the Hog. The vibration was not as bad as I had heard or imagined. Rubber mounted engine, I guess. I could feel the vibration in the hand grips.

The power and throttle response was worse than I imagined. Lackluster performance. Some maggot described the Harley engine as "Turning gasoline into noise and vibration with the least amount of power imaginable." I respectfully kept this opinion to myself, not wanting to offend my wife. To her, Harley's are not motorcycles, they are objects of worship. But I love her just the same.

Backfiring on deceleration, for a moment it reminded me of the Magna this spring before I cleaned the carbs. Then I thought, no, they did this to the Harley on purpose, put after market pipes on it to make it louder. Obviously had not adjusted the fuel injection to accomodate the new pipes.

My wife pulled up beside me at a stop. She was grinning, unlike I had seen earlier.

"This thing has plenty of power to spare, just twist the grip and it goes." She had that devlish gleem in her eye. I was so surprised. I figured my dear cruiser girl would never go for anything like that.

That was true, certainly compared to the cruisers we had ridden, the Buell was sporty and fun.

"What about the seating position?" I asked. That was what bothered me the most.

"It's okay, I got used to it." she replied.

I was totally surprised.

Back to the dealer, they debriefed us on our ride, and tried to urge us toward a purchase. They knew we were in the "early planning stages" of my wife's next bike, and that there would be no bike-buying today. They had my wife pick out her favorite color, talked about finance options, yada yada yada. Very low key, not hard sell tactics.

"What did you think of the Street Bob?" they asked her.

"Too loud," she said.

"What about you?" they asked me.

"Not enough power, too sluggish." I replied.

"So you liked the Buell, then," he asked.

"Not particularly..." I shrugged.

Back on the Magnas, press the starter button, hear the thrumming of the V4's in their comparatively quiet muffled way, and head out of the parking lot.

"I'm glad I finally got to ride a Harley," my wife said. Gesturing toward her Magna, she said, "But it's good to be home."

I did say, "You know, that V30 makes more power than that Harley you just rode." Certainly from a power-to-weight ratio, if not outright horsepower.

She said, "Yeah."

I smiled, revved up in relative silence, and left the chrome-laden parking lot behind.

At the first stop light, she leans over to ask me, "Can we go home the same road we came in on? That was fun!"

"Of course!" I reply.

I smile. I will let nature take its course. If she must have a Harley, she will have a Harley some day. But I know there's more to that girl than chrome cruisers. I saw that gleem in her eye on the sport bike, and I've seen how she carves up the twisties. There's hope yet.