On the design, I’m still not sure. I think of all three colours available, the silver (primer?) colour would be my choice. The white is just a bit too, well, white, and the red is a bit too pipe and slippers for me. It might be better in a proper Firestorm/VFR750 red, or perhaps a 2002 VTEC blue? I leave you to ponder that one. Build quality is as you would expect for a £12,000 Honda creation, which is probably as well because if you had parted with a quarter of a top-rate PC’s annual pay (incl. CRTP), or signed up to £190 a month for three years, with a final payment knocking on £3,400 for one, it’s the least you’d expect.
Never mind that, what about the ride? Well to anyone who has a VFR of any vintage, the moment you sit on the VFR12, you detect that this is evolution, not revolution. The seat is lower that the VTEC and you feel much more in than on the VFR12, the riding position feels ever so slightly more upright, more like a VFR800Fi. The bike seemed to mould nicely to my (not insignificant) frame and I was met with clocks that add a engine temperature gauge that is permanently visible, instead of the toggle needed between air temp and engine temp on the Fi and VTEC and a gear position display (to save you having to sully your new pride and joy with an ugly Datatool 80’s style red digital effort). Again, this would have made Darwin happy. Easy to read, functional and unobtrusive, just like VFRs of old. The fuel gauge showed three bars.
After a couple of figure-of-eights in the car park to get a feel for the controls (precise, snatch-free and overall beautifully balanced), it was off into the rain and mud for a run. I headed out towards Baldock services and along some of the roads I once flew down on various driving and riding courses. With the £2,500 excess weighing heavily on my mind, I build a rapport with the bike almost straight away. Anyone moving from an older VFR will feel at home in the seat of a VFR12. The power comes on in typically linear VFR-fashion and is unintimidating up to 6k rpm, where there is a noticeable (VTEC-esque?) extra helping of go and the girl digs in her rear boot and the road becomes a tarmac treadmill in fast-forward. It’s not intimidating, mind, and it was reminiscent of the way my old (and oft-missed) CBR900RRV FireBlade laid its power down. I’m beginning to like this. A VFR with old carb’ed ‘Blade power? This could be my perfect bike incarnate.
The handling is not anywhere as frisky as the old ‘Blades, though. It is, again, typically VFR. Predictable, constant rate of turn but this is where Honda have put the work in. The whole package inspired confidence-a-plenty and the feedback you get through the seat of your Goretex strides and the ‘bars makes it feel like the bike is talking to you. This machine was wearing BT021 tyres, which are not to my personal preference, but never once did I feel like they would let go. It was easier to turn than the other VFRs I have had and once your line is determined, you’ll stick to it. Lovely. The ride is on the firm side of sports touring. The back roads around Ashwell showed this up. The bike attacked the road, rather than floated across it, and it let you know just how bumpy the surface was – giving you a running commentary of what the road was doing underneath you – but the VFR12 was more composed than my VTEC would manage. The progress was no less rapid and the ride was not harsh, however, and you still felt the bike would deal with whatever you asked of it (and a bit more). On more smooth surfaces, the VFR12 was a joy to ride and flowing, systematic, progressive riding suits this machine beautifully. If you want to point and squirt, get a ZX10R.