My second motorcycle: VFR800

Recap:

After a summer of riding a 1992 Yamaha Seca II, I was ready to move up to something more interesting. That's not to say the Seca was a bad bike - it was sufficient for what I needed. But the useless headlight, buzzy engine, and cold-start difficulties left me wanting more. I tried to buy a Bandit 1200, but it was snapped up before I could get it.

/Recap.

So I started reading on the internet, and managed to narrow it down to three bikes: A Honda VTR1000 Superhawk, VFR800 Intercepter, or a used ST1100 they had in Cannon Falls.

Dorky first owner

In the end I chose the VFR on the promise that it offered better ergonomics than the Superhawk. I called the dealer (Hopkins Honda), negotiated a $500 discount on a brand new Millennium Yellow 2000 VFR, and then waited for it be shipped from Seattle. Purchased unseen, unridden. Somewhere in this deal Paul ended up buying the Seca for a little less than I had in it.

My first ride was when I picked it up. Paul drove me from Rochester to Hopkins one morning to get it; the seventy miles back to Rochester was cold and uncomfortable, but I was amazed with the bike. It had power to spare, but since I was supposed to keep it under 7,000 RPM I had no clue how much it actually had .. I was afraid to tap into it all! It sounded great, handled like a dream. The seat made my butt cry, the lower bars tortured my wrists, my cheap dressy leather jacket ballooned up around me. I loved every minute of it.



We got to Rochester at 11am. The plan was to get the bike early, then go back to work. Screw that - Paul jumped on his Seca and we rode down to Lanesboro for the afternoon. We were unable to pry the more conscientious Chuck away from his duties (and his Shadow probably wouldn't start either).

Ledbetter point, WA

The VFR fed the obsession. I bought better gear - first a Harley Davidson jacket (as that was the only local place to find MC-specific clothing). That jacket looked cool, even more so after I blacked out the HD logo on the back, but it was worthless. No rain, cold, heat, asphalt, curb, tree or car protection. Same with the chaps. That taught me to stop looking at what other motorcyclists in our area (i.e. Harley riders) did; and start doing the research myself. Keep in mind this was in 2000 ... long before the growth of the motorcycle industry we have today, or the internet forums supporting it. Basically what I did was buy stuff from motorcycle-specific warehouses, return it, try again, etc. Eventually I settled on a First Gear jacket and pants combo and Sidi On-Road boots. This gear was everything the Harley stuff wasn't. In fact I still have it, hanging in a closet.

Oooh Micron high mount!

The VFR needed some modifications too. Sargent World Seat for my bum; Gen-mar risers for my wrists; Heated grips for my hands; and as late fall approached a taller Givi windshield to help protect against the wind; and  aYoshimura RS-3 slip-on for my ears. The Yosh sounded good but I wanted something louder that didn't stick out very far and installed a Micron high-mount. These also fixed a 5000-rpm flat spot.

Technologically the VFR is Honda's equivalent to the Prelude. This is the platform where Honda tries out new stuff, in this case single-sided swingarm, linked brakes and gear-driven cams. It kind adds a whirring sound to the motor which is very unique (as if the V4's exhaust on a 275-degree crankshaft didn't already sound good). In my opinion, this is still the best sounding bike out there. The big twins (i.e. Ducati, Rotax, the Superhawk) sound good too, but the V4 has a certain harmony the twins lack. Imagine strumming two strings on a base guitar ... then imagine four.

Mt Lassen, CA

Incidentally, I got to ride a Superhawk a few years later. Compared to the VFR it has much better suspension and tracks through corners better. The low end torque is prodigious, and it feels much narrower between the legs. However, there is a lot more vibration. The VFR's V4 is smooth and hardly transmits any vibrations to the rider - even less than the inline-fours I've ridden.

I rode the VFR. A lot. I ventured out of Rochester and discovered the Mississippi river. We rode many of the roads in the Lanesboro area. Then one day I packed a giant duffel full of camping gear and made a day of riding up the Mississippi river to St. Paul to a KOA in St. Paul.

Not long after, while we were shopping for a motorcycle for Jenn (she didn't like the pillion position, and I wasn't crazy about having her there). Later I'll get into more detail about her first bike - I just wanted to mention it because Chuck ended up buying the ST1100 in Cannon Falls.

It was the summer of 2000 when Paul on the Seca, Chuck on his ST1100 and me on the VFR took our first sport-touring ride. Loaded with camping gear we rode north. Paul had his giant square cotton sleeping bag precariously bungied in a garbage bag on his rear seat, on top of his camping stuff. I had my giant duffel which drooped over the sides. Chuck had the right bike - all his stuff fit in the sidecases. In Hinckley Paul learned what happened if you didn't pay attention when you're filling your tank. Chuck hauled firewood on his back seat. We saw a bear entering St Croix state park and set up tents in the dark.

The second (and third) night was in Bear Head Lake State park - wowzy, Hwy 1 had a lot of corners! Chuck dragged his toe, Paul went to Canada for the first time (just to get a photo of a speed limit sign with 'kph' on it) and the US border patrol let me back into the country even though I only had a driver's license (I wasn't a US citizen at the time). Hwy 1 in the dark was quite an experience. Now we know how disgusting the windshield wiper fluid at gas stations can be, especially when you use it on you helmets. P.U.

The fourth night was at Jay Cooke state park. It was pouring rain, so we only set up one tent, and three of us slept on a queen mattress. It sucked. Especially for Chuck, in the middle. There was a leak above him, and he kept a towel on his chest to absorb it and wring it out once in a while. At least we had a really nice hike along the river the next day.

Yeah, we were hooked.

Hells Canyon

Ron, somewhere in the Blue Mountains, OR

It didn't take me long to decide that the midwest kind of sucked for motorcycling. Short hot humid buggy summers and no topography. Jenn and I had a falling out, and I decided to move to Oregon in the fall of 2001. In January of 2001 we got together again, but I stick to my decisions, and moved to Oregon anyway. Good for me, Jenn came with! And I continued to ride the VFR. It had about 10,000 miles on it after a year of riding in Minnesota, but between 9/2001 and 5/2003 I had put an additional 22k miles on it (32k total). The Pacific Northwest VFR (PNW-VFR) mailing list provided lots of group riding experiences, as did sportbikes.us (those guys are nuts... 25% of the group ride with racing slicks on the street)... I met some dude named Ron who had a couple bikes, including a 1991 VFR, and with a few of his friends we set out on a 9-day tour of the PNW. Down to California, up through central Oregon and Washington, across the cascades and back home. It was a great trip, my first long one. By now I was totally addicted.

Elk Pass, near Butte, MT

In the summer of 2003 we rode to Yellowstone N.P. and met Paul, Joan and Chuck ... it was cold and bastardly. Jenn rode back home, to Oregon, I went to Rochester for work (this was when IBM stopped paying for my flights to Rochester). A few weeks later, Chuck and I rode back to Oregon, taking the high-line (Hwy 2) as much as possible. 






At 40,000 miles, winter 2003, the VFR experienced it's first mechanical failure: a stuck thermostat. It was a $32 part nestled between the V of the cylinders and required tearing nearly everything off the top of the bike. Shortly thereafter I upgraded the forks to GP Suspension custom bits and a new rear shock.

What a PITA it was to pack the green bag

Spring 2004 I rode to Texas and back to visit Jennifer while she was at HSA school in Wichita Falls, and the VFR experienced it's second mechnical failure at 42K: a headlight burned out. If you go way back to the first posts of this blog you'll find my story about that southwestern ride.

By the summer of 2004, a small group of us in Portland had established that we really enjoy riding together. Our riding styles were similar, we enjoyed each other's company, and Ron knew the Pacific Northwest very well. We would ride together for a week or two every summer, in addition to long weekends once in a while. It is one of the periods of my life that I miss the most. Unfortunately, in June of 2004, tragedy strikes. Ken, on his Superhawk, blows a corner in Mad River, California. I think the Superhawk was sold for salvage in Redding; Ken went home in a casket. This is the first (and hopefully only) motorcycle fatality in our midst.

Oregon Coast

That fall the VFR had 55,000 miles on it. From May 2004 to August 2004, I had put 15,000 miles on it. May of 2005, it had 60,000 miles on it and we were planning a move back to Minnesota, ostensibly to start a family. It was another excuse to ride across the country again ;-) I rode the VFR, and Chuck rode Jenn's Magna. Once back in Minnesota, Paul and I took a long weekend in October to ride the along the north shore. Just before our departure, while BS'ing in my driveway, some guy on a Kawasaki ZRX1200 in Lawson green rides past, and waves. Two minutes later, he pulls into our driveway, and introduces himself as Bill, the founder of the Red Wing Ironworks Motorbike Club. From this encounter a whole new group of friendship was established.

At the end of 2005 I had 70,000 miles on the VFR. Anticipating a long cold winter, I decided to dig into lots of preventative maintenance. I rebuild the forks, sent the shock to Traxxion, replaced every bearing I could get my hands on, rebuilt the brake calipers, replaced every fluid, all the dash bulbs and repacked the Micron.

In the summer of 2006 Paul and I discovered the joy of West Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina and the Ozarks. It was so much fun we did it again in 2007 and included Deal's Gap. The endless corners and smooth pavement and Uncle Phil's numerous belly-filling stops made the trips unforgettable!

But let's not forget the September 2006 trip to the Black Hills. This was my dad's return to motorcycling, on a 1982 KZ1100. Jenn was on her Magna, and my brother was on his own pristine 2000 VFR.

Oooh there's TWO of them!

Then, in the spring of 2007, I crashed it at DCTC, with 87,000 miles on it. My brother hauled it to Red Wing. The damage wasn't bad .. merely a missing footpeg, some scratched up plastic. State Farm thought I added an extra zero to the odometer, but when they realized it was 87.714 they totaled it out. I bought it back for $750, sold to my brother, he put $150 of parts on it.

It was sad to see it go, but I am getting older and on the most recent trip to Arkansas my back did not tolerate a 450 mile day on the interstate. I was also looking for a better way to carry more gear on long trips, and increased wind coverage for the cold wet days. I don't think I would have been able to sell it to anyone outside the family.

This is what "totaled" looks like

Thor continues to ride it.

In 2008, and again in 2011, we rode west. Last year he joined us on the Walt Ride.

It has about 102,000 miles on it and the oil analysis says it is showing "some" wear, and their advice is to keep the oil change intervals short, at 4000 miles. I did a valve adjustment at 99570 miles and not a single valve was out of spec. Oh .. that reminds me .. there was another failure. At about 96,000 the recitifier burned out, and the blinker relay is starting to stick. That one is a PITA to get at (in the nose fairing, right above the headlights.

Chilling along US Hwy12 in Idaho

In the Bighorns

And that's the story of my yellow VFR.