Deliberating Dilbert (A Reflective Review)

Difficult

Dilbert has surpassed my expectations as a motorcycle in every sense of the word but I cannot do 110-miles a day on him 5-days a week and pretend its all fun, or even only a little adventure.

If I was to commute, say, 30-miles each way I could do it; 20 would be great fun. I see the difference when passed by local commuters on sports bikes: weaving like lunatics through the traffic as they only need to work hard for 20 to 30 minutes. I have to work hard (up the A32 and A31) for over an hour each way to make the same rate of progress through the escalating amount of traffic passing up and down the route at annoyingly sedate rates of speed.

Dilbert is quite sprightly when called upon to perform a series of overtaking: knock down a couple of gears from 5th to 3rd at 60mph and the effect can be quite exhilarating and effective in passing short lines of traffic, but confidence wains where longer lines need negotiating over short stretches open to overtaking. I'm not going to claim "wheelies" but knock down gears sufficiently vigorously to reach 2nd and he certainly bays at the bit and looses some front-wheel weight! (Given his wheel base, that's got to be something of an indicator there's energy released down there somewhere?

Linking corners and straights on a freed-up roads is truly rewarding. I've learned loads about motorcycle riding from Dilbert where he's looked after me as a complete novice and helped to develop me into what I hope remains a sensible rider with some ability to to exploit the full advantages of riding on 2-wheels in a predominantly 4-wheeled environment.

In fact, I think Dilbert is an excellent match to my riding style and to withhold my aggression when it threatens to surface - he does exactly what I asked for in my original brief and has not let me down over many miles and many hours of his massaging my arse in his saddle.

Dilbert does vibrate (and that wasn't a subliminal link to his massaging my arse, by the way) as part of what Honda claim to be his engineered character. His V2 engine could have been fully smoothed out but even in the new Deauville 700 they have opted to leave this signature in the engine design. It's nice to feel what his engine is doing when ear-plugs suppress so much of its sound but it can get a bit wearing after a full morning's ride: worse when I'm already tired from work on the way home. It really isn't something you notice until it makes itself noticed - somewhere between 65mph and 75mph - but when your mind wanders onto the matter it can grow to near annoyance.

Fuel economy is really very good - even on thrash days but his 200-mile tank range can be shortened by forgetting to close off the choke on the dual carriageway (a 20-mile range difference from 9-miles' misuse, I found) making the change to reserve tank on Day 2 somewhere nearer Privett than the expected M27 Junction 11. Even at best, a 200-mile average fuel consumption range doesn't quite compute into a 52-mile each way trip over 4-trips. (Fuel is always 2 to 5p cheaper per litre down here than in the Farnham / Frimley areas so it's worth pushing it out) so really his range just isn't sufficient to the rhythms of the commute cycle.

Dilbert is pretty fancy on cornering, too. I've not been wreck less enough to scrape anything but I'm sure we've been close on occasion. He's rock-steady: not "heavy up top" as some claim, but then I'm in no position to compare to a sports bike that might be "better balanced". Dilbert isn't a sports bike, but he's quick: yes his weight in all those fairings and panniers sucks on his 55bhp but he's still plenty to delight older bikers like me, I assure you. He's a mid-range tourer, let's not loose sight of that.

In the rain Dilbert has given me confidence in tyre technology and weight / vs friction theory. Phut-Phut scared the life out of me as soon as the sky turned grey (quite a lot in the UK this summer) but Dilbert seems up-for-it in the damp without any problem (usual hazard suspects excepted, as always, I know).

We've ridden with the wider "fat" panniers this week so I could judge what a Pan might feel like in filtering. These have made no difference to Dilbert's stability at speed or in cross-winds and only need care in the filter not to cut too near to the edges of cars and vans when having to weave the buggers who don't believe bikes should be doing that sort of thing and move to block you. It's cramped my style a little: the thin panniers are just that, thin. So with these slim things on you can just squeeze the mirrors through and know everything else is safe. As I said, the fatties make you wonder if you're dragging them into something.

The biggest fat vs. thin difference is on those overtaking long lines of traffic exercises where little room is left between cars in the traffic train so, although the overtake is on, the recovery into a tight spot can be more risky. If the gap doesn't open for you (for reason of other driver's greed, jealously, or darned callous nature - bastards) it's difficult to slide alongside the flow without leaving much of your width across that white line.

Dilbert looks pretty good, too. Perhaps the Deauville's curves and single front lamp are becoming dated in fashion circles, but his wavy lines don't half seem to work in cross winds! Superb balance, really. His belly pan sets him off with some sport pedigree (false, or not) and he seems to hold some presence on the road from the front and good vision for approaching traffic from the rear (those going ballistic enough to have the privilege).

The controls are all instinctive - all bar the horn button being just below the indicators, which can make for good progress if muttering about "how rude" bikers have become. Everything else is fine, and his dash (now I've sat astride the ST1300) is brilliantly laid out and entirely functional.

Dilbert's custom seat is pretty good, too, I'm beginning to realise. It's "King and Queen" style gives confidence to the seating position on acceleration and braking and the slight texture effect gives excellent grip. Although I've not ridden with pillions, when the kids and Ka have sat on the pillion seat they have expressed only murmurs of comfort. The top-box back rest really finishes off a quite luxurious feel and the way their legs are over but not on the panniers is clever design stuff. My early days as a regular pillion on the back of a mad-mans (sorry, if you're reading Andy) Suzy GT350 (with trendy "Ram Air") were far more fraught - no grab rails, no friction, and once or twice, no Pat (left standing in front of an irate line of traffic at the last set of lights).

The riding position is probably a challenge to my body-type but isn't uncomfortable. I'm sure fitting 35mm up and back risers would sort out any residual back stiffness, and my wrists have become used to riding now. I can still get numb hands and fingers through leaning heavily on them bu a quick relax down by the side (and I mean quick, in some instances) is enough to get the circulation through them again.

I love the white, too. My Honda CB125 (back in 1986) called "Humbert" was blue before Andy and I did some espresso spray-painting to pearlescent white. My ill-fated GT250("Cafe Racer", if the project had been completed) called "LC" (short for Little Chamonix, after my first ever lead climb in the Lakes) was black with 80's red piping but I knew its visibility suffered from its colour even before it had been sprayed. White makes people look: firstly because it's highly visible when it's not foggy, and secondly because subliminally there's always that primeval thought of Police that surfaces long enough in every driver's mind to lift off the gas by reflex and give a second glance to negate any threat to their licence. White is good. White also contrasts well with black plastics.

I like white bikes. How these dark bikes with dark clothing and no reflective jacket-type riders survive without a good swipe from a motor, I just don't know. Perhaps some research should be undertaken to check whether it is these riders that complain most about car-driver's blindness to anything on 2-wheels - even though I've encountered my share of sightless assholes (and GTi Twats in reg: B2 FMA) in my travels.

Summary

Dilbert has been an excellent first proper bike, and real joy to warm me up to the potential of non-car commuting as well as leveller when the weather turns British. His service to me has been far more than to travel reliably; he's been a teacher and mentor and has in the spirit of all such learning facilitators, he's also been very forgiving of my slowness to learn important lessons.

He's a wonderful bike and I've had an overall incredible journey with him. Thanks to Bob for recommending him to me.