Bill, a good buddy, fellow motorcyclist and coworker of mine, and I decide to ride home from work today so he can cruise my VFR, his first experience on one. We usually just head out the road from Enumclaw to Auburn but with a gleam in my eye, I ask Bill if he is in a hurry to get home. He says no and I suggest that we do the Green Valley road instead so he can really get a feel for VFR handling in all those twists and turns. So off we go, Bill on the VFR and me on his restored 1978 Gold Wing 1100. We come to the first stop sign a block from work and as he pulls up alongside, he says I must think his Gold Wing feels like a diesel truck. That's exactly what I was thinking! "Jesus, this thing handles like a God damn truck!" In the meantime, he's already looking gleeful on the VFR. At the next stop sign, he remarks on how a guy could really get hurt on a bike like this. I guess by this point he has experimented with the throttle a bit. At the next stop sign, he comments on the awesome brakes. Another stop comes up and now he's just grinning and shaking his head.

We turn left onto the Green Valley Road with me in the lead and all of a sudden, this red blur blasts past me like a Sidewinder missile. I wind that Wing motor up into the power band and keep it there as I attempt to close the gap. When we hit the first 25 mph turn, I discover the limits of the Wing's ground clearance as shit starts grinding on the bike. The bike doesn't flinch so I just keep grinding away and after a couple more turns, I get pretty good at whittling down his feeler pegs.

Halfway down the valley, I realize that his Wing's got a stereo tape deck. Wow! What will they think of next? So I push in the protruding tape and it's the soundtrack from Dances With Wolves. No shit! This is way cool. The awesome tunes blare as I valiantly try to keep up with Bill on his diesel truck!

We come out of the valley and meet up at the last stop sign. I switch off the stereo to hear what Bill has to say but he is speechless. He just grins at me and shakes his head. We head up Hwy 18 to his house in Federal Way and dismount in his driveway. He is still shaking his head. Bill points at the 10 - 11k RPM range on the tach and asks me what happens up there. I told him earnestly, "Really amazing stuff!" He steps back to get a better view of the VFR, assesses it in a whole new light, and remarks on its great looks. I just grin as I throw my leg over the saddle, thumb the starter button and savor the aural pleasure caused by the sound of the gear cam driven V-4 firing up. I can see why moto-journalists the world over keep voting the VFR the best overall bike of the year. It is one fine machine. Thanks, Mr. Honda!

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