Honda has managed to knock the Triumph Thruxton off its top spot with the VFR800 VTEC, writes Geoff Hill
OH DEAR, oh dear, oh dear. It was all so simple a week ago. The Triumph Thruxton was my favourite bike in the universe, and that was all there was to it.
Then Honda had to give me a VFR and ruin everything.
It was the last thing I expected. I mean, I'd already had a go on my brother's second-hand VFR and thought, as many people do about Hondas, that it was perfect, but that I wouldn't ever buy one.
And if that sounds like a contradiction, it was just that the VFR had no, well, character. It did everything it said on the tin, but you couldn't fall in love with it the way people fall in love with their Triumphs, Ducatis, Harleys or pet rabbits.
Well, the word has finally got through to the men in white coats at Honda Central in Tokyo. First they came up with the Italian-styled Hornet 600, brought into being by mastermind Naoshi Iizuka from the drawings of an Italian design studio.
Then they not only gave the Fireblade that fabulous steering damper, but a set of exhaust valves that means once you hit 7,000rpm, it creates a howl like a bus-load of banshees on their way to the annual banshee convention in Kerry.
And now they've done the same thing with the VFR, whose newest model comes with the latest version of VTEC, the variable intake valve system which Honda introduced on their Integra and Civic cars in 1989, and adapted for their bikes with the 2002 VFR.
Basically, this means that above 7,000rpm, the number of intake valves doubles, creating a hefty increase in power.
Critics claim that this can produce a potentially dangerous surge in the middle of a corner, flinging you over the hedge with a deep appreciation of Japanese technology, but a growing concern for your immediate future.
However, fear not, for Honda, being Honda, have thought of everything, and the VFR has a seamless delivery of power from tickover to the red line, which will help even the most ham-fisted amateur ride like a pro.
What actually happens is that when you hit that 7,000 barrier, exhaust valves similar to the Fireblade's open and emit a soaring crescendo halfway between a rasp and a rattle.
To be honest, this gave me a bit of a shock the first time it happened, since it sounded suspiciously like the sound my old Royal Enfield makes when you rev it hard. You know, the one that means the horn/exhaust/engine/back wheel is about to fall off.
However, once you realise that none of this is going to happen, you can relax and get down to enjoy what the VFR is all about, which is the fact that it does absolutely everything you ask of it, without flaw or fuss.
That's not to say that it's a pussycat. In the right hands, it can be lightning-quick, as those of you who remember Ron Haslam holding his own at Donnington on a standard VFR against race-prepared factory machines will testify. So it's fast, but it's not scary in the manner of, say, the ZX-10 Ninja.
If you're already a Honda fan, the VFR is a perfect compromise between the Hornet and the Fireblade, with more grunt than the former and less ability to lose you your licence than the latter.
If you're not a fan and you're looking for an unbeatable all-rounder, look no further.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go and shed a few tears over the Triumph I loved so well.