Wild In The Street
Performance results and statistics.
Article’s
headline: Stand Back for the new V45 Magna. It's a
candy-colored, chrome-plated, tire-smokin', eyeball-seizin'
boulevard strutter. It's also a real motorcycle - goodness,
gracious great balls of fire!
The battle has been raging since
the invention of the loin-cloth and spear. On one side we
have those who rally around the slogan: “Form follows
function.” This group maintains that the beauty flows
naturally from the most pure and simple of designs.
Philosophically, this admirable pursuit of function is
chockfull of self-righteous goodness, as if from a granola,
whole-wheat bread, and orange-juice school of design.
Then we have the “form follows
fashion” crowd, folks who pile on the style after the fact
in a vulgar display of glitzy flash, often at the expense of
usefulness. Compared with the lofty ideals of the above,
this school of design seems jam-packed with all the goodness
of a pig-out on junk food.
From a strictly logical point of
view, the choice between the two opposing camps is obvious.
But logic falls to pieces when confronted with passion, and
passion and motorcycling, if not exactly synonymous, have at
least been good buddies since first introduced more than a
century ago. Perhaps this explains the existence of Honda’s
new VF750C V45 Magna.
No
two ways about it - the Magna is a shock. In a class
dominated by powerful and
flashy customs draped in
wild and outrageous ornamentation for its own sake, the
Magna stands out as a well-integrated design. Long and low,
with finned side scoops, four chrome pipes swept skyward,
twin taillights tucked into a swooping rear fender, a disc
rear wheel-this is beginning to read more like an ad for
something General Motors might have produced in ‘58 than a
motorcycle of the ‘80s.
Yet despite its old-style hot-rod
looks, the new Magna makes last years model-and the
competitions varied offerings-look dated. And the more time
we spent riding it, washing it, and just plain staring at it
in disbelief, the more we liked it. Even one of the avid
sport riders on staff found himself praising its handling,
ergonomics, engine, and, -get this- begrudgingly admitting
that he liked its looks. Others, though, remain appalled by
the styling treatment; the Magna’s looks certainly fall into
that love-it-or-hate-it category.
Those who find the Magna
attractive do so not because of any one of its bizarre
styling licks, but because of the way in which they work so
well together. Nothing sticks out like a pasted-on
afterthought. Sure, the side-mounted “air boxes” are fake,
but the important thing is that they look like they belong,
and that their shape and black crinkle finish tie in well
with the similarly finished triple crowns, rad end-caps, and
black belly pan, so that one hardly notices the presence of
the rad, an unfortunate eyesore on most liquid-cooled bikes.
Love it or hate it, the ‘87 Magna is a balance design, if
nothing else.
Fit and finish are for the most
part excellent. The double dose of red on our test bike
looked terrific, complementing the outlandish chrome pipes
like white gloves with an evening gown. But look at the
welds on the handlebar! It’s hard to believe such a cobby
mess could ever pass Honda’s usual standards of quality
control, but there they are, unashamedly displayed right
before the rider’s eyes. And to make matters worse, because
the handlebar is a hybrid design of two different diameters,
an owner would have difficulty swapping it for something
more pleasing to look at, a crime on a bike that is
otherwise so well finished.
The handlebar frames an
instrument panel that is simple and legible. The tach on the
right is slightly larger than the speedo, and a brace of
idiot lights are nestled between the two.
Introduce in 1982 as Honda’s
engine of the future, the V4 in Magna guise has proved to be
a reliable and smooth unit with a broad, healthy and linear
powerband. Its initial success resulted in numerous copies-
both from Honda and its competitors- ranging from 500 cc
cruisers to mighty muscle bikes like the Magna V65, which at
one time was one of the most powerful bikes in production.
Now, the V45 Magna is the only ‘87 V4 left in Honda’s line.
As the bike that started it all, it seems appropriate it
should be Honda’s sole survivor.
Mechanically,
there are not as many changes for ‘87 as outward appearances
suggest. The conventional round-tube steel double-cradle
chassis is a clone of last year’s, with the rake increased
by five degrees to a whopping 35. This radical rake, when
combined with a longer swingarm, stretches the wheelbase out
to a substantial 1,660 mm. Only Harley’s Softail is longer.
The rear end is suspended by a
pair of coil-over-damper shocks, adjustable only for spring
preload, while a simple drum brake is integrated with a
15-inch disc-style aluminum wheel made it two pieces; the
left side is a plate that fits over the shaft-drive housing.
The rear tire is a fashionably large 150/80-15 Dunlop.
At the front end the Magna has
dispensed with one of its disc brakes, probably for both
cost-saving and styling. A five-spoke alloy wheel holds a
100/90-19 Dunlop. The fork no longer has provisions for
adjustment or anti-dive.
In the engine compartment, a
reworked top end with one mm larger intake valves and
revised porting work with the less-restrictive exhaust
system to help bump horsepower to a claimed 88 with no loss
in the V4’s good graces or refinement. The DOHC engine with
four valves per cylinder is fed by a quartet of 32 mm Keihin
CV carbs.
With
Honda placing such emphasis on fashion for fashion’s sake,
it’s very much a suprise to discover how well the Magna
works as a motorcycle. There is a bit of new-for-’87
vibration; a mild tingle that sneaks through the handlebar
and pegs above 6,000 rpm, thanks to the engine now being
solidly bolted to the frame instead of rubber mounted as in
past years. But even at full throttle these new vibes never
reach objectionable levels.
Speaking of full throttle,
because of rain and freezing temperatures we were unable to
put in any time at the drag strip, but we do know that there
is enough power to bury the speedometer past the 200 km/h
mark, and seat-of-the-pants impressions indicate that
quarter-mile times should be just under 12 seconds. The
Magna is especially fun to short shift around 8,500-9,000
rpm (redline is at 10,000), as there seems to be a bundle of
grunt waiting there for the charge forward. However, our
resident burnout king preferred to run it right up to the
redline in pursuit of his thrills. Either way, the engine is
more than willing.
The only hindrance to these
straight-line high-speed hijimks is the six-speed
transmission. It doesn’t like shifting without the clutch or
under power. However, shifting is easy in normal day-to-day
riding conditions, the hydraulic clutch smooth, and the gear
ratios well spaced, with the overdrive sixth dropping revs
by 1,000 rpm for relaxed cruising. And with that renowned
torquey and flexible V4 power plant, passing rarely requires
a downshift, even when faced with a long line of slow-moving
trucks and motorhomes.
Opinion remains mixed as to the
quality of sound the V4 produces under throttle, with the
usual disparaging comparisons made to Evinrudes and the
like. But all agreed that at idle those four high-profile
pipes pump out a lovely rumble. Interestingly enough in this
age of strict noise control standards, the pipes are almost
too loud for long distance highway rides, possible because
of their upward slant.
Both
the single front disc with floating twin-piston caliper and
the rear drum brake are easily up to the job of Magna
stopping. Understandably, with such radical front-end
geometry there’s some fork flex under hard use, and our
particular Magna suffered from air in the hydraulics that
made the front brake feel a little mushy. But neither of
these traits were bothersome in normal use.
With such a long wheelbase, it
almost goes without saying that the Magna’s straightline
stability is good. The big suprise is how well it takes to
the corners. Steering is a little heavy, but the bike
responds well to rider input, although sudden transitions
will cause the suspension to squat, quickly using up its
small amount of travel. Banked over in a corner,
particularly through fast sweepers, the Magna is just plain
fun. There’s now weave or wobble, the tires stick to the
pavement, and even ground clearance is adequate, which is a
nice touch on a custom-style motorcycle.
There are a couple of bugaboos in
the handling department, however. Excessive drive-train lash
is one of them, interfering with smooth take-offs and
cornering as it clunks about while taking up an
overabundance of slack. This a rider can easily live with.
Coping with the rear suspension is not as easy.
On smooth pavement, the twin rear
shocks work fine, controlling driveshaft movement and
providing an acceptable ride. But when the pavement gets
tough, particularly over sharp, repetitive bumps like those
found on worn-out concrete highways with neglected tar
strips, there is simply not enough usable suspension travel
to absorb the impact, which causes the ride to become harsh
and abusive. Stability remains suprisingly good, even when
banked over hard around a bump-strewn corner; it’s the
kidneys that suffer.
In this respect, the magna is
certainly not alone out there in cruiserland. But with many
bikes the seat and riding position are so terrible that the
rider needs a break after 100 km anyway, so it’s of little
concern that the suspension is not up to snuff.
Not so with the new Magna.
Sensible seems and odd word to use in conjunction with this
radical machine, but that best describes the Magna’s
friendly ergonomics. Everything, with the possible exeption
of the ignition switch that hides under the right side of
the gas tank, falls comfortably within the reach of the
human anatomy. And the Magna comes with a cushy rider’s seat
that boasts a greater cruising range than the fuel tank, a
rarity with modern motorcycles.
Although
capable of going very fast, and blitzing away from
intersections in great clouds of smoke and laughter,
the Magna foremost makes a very pleasant cruiser bike,
whether riding around town or out on the highway. Add a
small windshield, and long-distance touring is not out of
the question, as long as the pavement remains smooth. This
is a motorcycle that would definitely benefit from an
increase in fuel capacity, as owners will likely find the
190 km to reserve unnecessarily restrictive for such a
willing mount.
Don’t feel offended if passengers
refuse to ride with you, though, as that tiny bit of
sparsely padded vinyl out back isn’t fit for human
habitation. Fortunately, it is easily removed, and the Magna
looks especially funky as a single-seater.
And that’s what the Magna is
really all about. It matters little that the tool kit is a
royal pain to get at, that there’s no place to attach bungee
cords that won’t put chrome and paint at extreme risk, that
there’s no centrestand, and that the steering lock is tucked
down near the bottom of the steering stem. The Magna speaks
the language of style. Fluently. That it is also such a
congenial motorcycle to operate makes it all the more
attractive.
The new Magna is a bold step by
Honda- intentionally or otherwise- toward the union of
conservative riding and radical looks. It comes close, very
close, with only the poor rear suspension- a carry-over from
the “form follows fashion” school of design- to detract from
it’s success. Yet even with this fault, it still remains a
very good motorcycle. And perhaps more important to us all,
it’s the forerunner of “functional fashion,” the seemingly
incompatible partnership between logic and passion, a school
of design in which function doesn’t have to be boring and
fashion doesn’t have to be a pain to live with.
