‘WHY I LOVE MY VFR400’
Where to start. The thing about Honda’s VFR400R NC30 is that it’s solid gold genius – a motorcycle so perfect that it has no downsides, warps perspective and has you inevitably, and in vain, ranking every other bike you ride or buy against its magnificence, which is total.
(To date an Aprilia RSV Mille R, a Ducati 851, a BMW R ninet and a Laverda 750SF have all come, then gone; the Honda remains.)
The ’80s were peak Honda, a confluence of cumulative decades of engineering excellence, vast profits from which were generously reallocated to R&D spending and monumental corporate swagger. In that period Honda created the holy trinity; the original NSX supercar, the RA168E turbo V6 F1 engine and the VFR750R (RC30) and VFR400R (NC30) twins. Still the company’s output, whether it likes it or not, are benchmarked against these machines, and for good reason. So, there’s nerdy history – whatever. At the core of the NC30’S appeal is the ease with which it moves, which isn’t the same thing as it being fast. (Its engine is magnificent – immaculately engineered, infinitely reliable and a pleasure to use – but summoning just 55bhp, this wasn’t a fast bike in 1991, let alone 2021.) No, the magic is in the way the Honda appears to square myriad contradictory circles as you ride it. Dynamically it is absolutely without vice. It turns neither quickly nor slowly, but perfectly. It is unerringly stable but never slovenly. It has poise but it is not stiff, breathing with every lump, bump and ridge in the road rather than rattling over them, persuading its gummy Bridgestones to grip harder. You sit there, jockey-like, looking ridiculous atop this miniscule device of immaculate conception, and you just
ride. Smooth and crisp and Spencer-spec or quick ’n’ ragged, scraping pegs, scuffing knees and winding on lashings of throttle from deep within each corner – either way the Honda’s just delighted to be out there. L-plate graduate, former racer, keen amateur? Doesn’t matter – an NC30 will help you ride better than you ever thought possible.
Me? It’s made me deliriously happy. I’ve wanted one since ’98, when it won a 400s group test in a Bike road test annual. I bought the world’s worst NC35 about five years later, but righted that wrong in 2009 with the bike I have now. It nourishes my soul just to look at it, let alone ride it, and the memories – laps of a sun-kissed TT course, mugging S1000RRS at Silverstone in the wet, meandering to Edinburgh with no itinerary and a bag of socks and smalls bungee’d to the tail – mean you’ll take it from me only when I’m cold and still.
‘ It turns neither quickly nor slowly, but perfectly. It is unerringly stable but never slovenly. It has poise but it is not stiff’