Get Your Motor Running - motorcycles

Kiplinger's Personal Finance Magazine, August, 1999 by Joe Tedino

When the call of the wild beckons, answer it on two wheels.

Something was missing from my life. After turning 40, I had to admit that years as a writer and public relations man had left me feeling trapped behind a desk. I yearned for the freedom and adventure of unbridled youth--at least, as unbridled as a faithful husband and father can get.

Then one day I read a magazine story about a company that hopes to revive the fabled Indian motorcycle brand. Would racing along a coastal highway with the wind in my face and my legs straddling a big-bore bike set me free? You bet.

That's how, on a warm September afternoon, I find myself inspecting my local motorcycle shop's selection. What could be more simple, straightforward and certifiably macho?

But right off the bat, there are decisions to be made: Which of the five basic street-bike styles am I after? The cruiser has pulled-back handlebars, a dipped saddle and bad-boy looks. A touring bike will wrap me in luxurious comfort with amenities like a large windshield, stereo CD changer and enough storage space for his-and-hers evening wear. A sport bike emphasizes speed, with the latest engine technology and lots of spunk to help me knife through traffic. A standard bike features an upright riding position and is great for commuting. And a dual-use bike can tackle both dirt and pavement.

Eager to head out on the highway, I cut through the confusion quickly: I want a cruiser with a large engine for highway comfort and staying power. Naturally, I'm leaning toward a Harley-Davidson, the world's most recognized brand. But Honda's the top seller: Its cruisers have big engines, smart styling and lower prices.

The salesman, twentysomething Scott, steers me toward a beautiful--albeit previously owned--burgundy-and-white Honda Shadow American Classic Edition that has adventure written all over it. Less than a year old and with just 500 miles on it, the 1,100cc bike is going for $6,000, $2,000 below list price.

Scott wheels it onto the sidewalk and turns on the ignition. The engine rumbles to life, and I hop in the saddle. As I grip the handlebars, my mind drifts. I'm cutting through the wind on a curvy back-country road with a song in my heart and a smile on my face. Even with the imaginary test drive, I know this is the bike i want.

Ten minutes later, credit card in hand, I plunk down a $600 deposit and leave the store in a daze, hardly able to believe my luck. I've just become one of the 5.2 million Americans who get their kicks on two wheels.

OUT OF THE SHOW ... Then panic strikes: I've as good as bought the first bike I looked at--and without even dickering on the price. Besides, sitting on the Honda, I had to stretch to grip the wide handlebars properly, like trying to ride my older brother's bicycle as a kid. On Monday, the store manager agrees to a full refund, and my quest for the perfect bike continues.

Now is the time to brush up on my 22-year-rusty riding skills. I pay $85 for a weekend-long safety course, which gives me a chance to ride a Honda standard cycle and chat up fellow riders.

During the class I am drawn to the classic styling of one of the school's motorcycles--a black Yamaha Virago, a low cruiser with raked-out fork, stepped seat and pulled-back handlebars. The instructor lets me try it out, and though I find its long fork makes tight turns a little tough, I like how it jumps when I roll the throttle.

This, I decide, is the bike to look for. The engine size I want, 750cc, is no longer in production, so my inclination to buy a used bike is now a certainty.

... AND INTO THE CLASSIFIEDS. In the newspaper ads, I find a black-and-green Virago for $4,700. The owner, an Air Force colonel, invites me into his garage, where the polished bike stands at attention near his new Harley. The odometer reads 10,069. The bike looks great, although I'm put off by the padded sissybar and by the windshield and saddlebags that give it the aura of a police cruiser. Removing them is a piece of cake, he assures me.

The Colonel doesn't offer me a test ride, and I'm reluctant to ask. Instead, he rolls the bike over to his open garage door and starts it up. I straddle it and rev the engine. The Colonel says he's repainted the fenders a high-gloss black from their original testosterone-challenged teal. Another plus is the Virago's shaft drive, which requires less maintenance than a chain. Shop receipts document the bike's regular checkups. Can I give this pampered machine a proper home?

A few days later, I get an e-mail message about another Virago owner. When I meet her, she's wearing a pink muscle T-shirt and blue jeans, with a headband around her blond hair. Lady-T's red-and-white 1996 is parked in an underground garage, near a rusty metal railing. She's asking $6,000, but scratches on the tank and pipes indicate that the bike's been dropped on its side. I decline her offer to start it up.

My next destination is the home of Tom, a retiree in Springfield, Va., who owns three motorcycles--a huge Harley touring bike, a 600cc Honda cruiser and a Virago. In the afternoon light, the Virago gleams as if it had been dipped in chrome. (Tom has even put a chrome cap on the brake-fluid reservoir.)