I have only owned eight bikes. Interestingly they have all been Hondas. Well, I did own one BSA 650 basket case, but never got around to putting it together.
Like many who are my age I had a twenty-five year interruption in my riding. Some nineteen months ago I was contentedly plying the byways on a black Magna. I sort of stumbled upon the Valkyrie with the thought that I would like to have a bike that was big enough to comfortably ride two up for long distances. I was convinced that I would continue to ride Maggie except when the situation called for a one bike, two person outing.
I flew from Kansas City to Denver to pick up my new acquisition, a beautiful 2001 Valkyrie standard, and to ride her home. I met the owner of the bike at his home in Elizabeth, Colorado after a short limousine ride and signed the necessary papers. I mentioned that I had never ridden a Valkyrie before and questioned whether the weight would be a problem for me. He just smiled and said, “You’re going to love it.”
I rolled out of Elizabeth to begin the six hundred mile journey home on a beast twice the displacement and one hundred eighty pounds heavier than my usual ride. Not five miles down the road she was feeling natural to me. I pulled off the road and took several pictures of my new Blue Velvet with Pike’s Peak in the background. Back underway I turned her up a few times and was very pleased if not a little surprised at how well she handled, especially with all that weight at lower speeds. She had a large wind screen to which I was unaccustomed and the buffeting that I received in the wind was the only complaint that I could find with her.
I didn’t encounter much traffic on the road from Elizabeth to I-70 at Limon, Colorado, but it seemed that everyone I passed would smile and wave or nod to me. I was truly feeling that this is what it must mean to be the king of the world. At just about the state line I stopped for fuel and a couple on two bikes rolled up to the pumps across from where Velvet and I were. I was feeling good about being on the road and while the lady was fueling her steed I addressed the man standing not more than ten feet from me. “How’s it going?” I asked. No response. He just stared off at the sky as if he were all alone.
“Nice day out,” I observed. He continued to stare at an angle slightly away from me and into the air. I believe the point he intended to make was that he knew I was there but was not going to acknowledge my presence. It was at that time that I noticed that both he and his female companion were riding the “great American motorcycle”. It may have been that moment that signaled the death within me of a fleeting thought that it might be cool to ride a Harley
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The six hundred mile trip home passed much more quickly than I had expected. I stopped once for lunch at the Sonic and watched the little boys staring at my behemoth. Well, perhaps the time wasn’t all that was passing quickly. I stopped for gas last about seventy miles out and called home. The answer to the question, “Where are you?” evoked a rather incredulous response. My only explanation was, “She likes to go fast.”
We arrived home just about nightfall and there was a flurry of showing off the new ride and a few trips around the extended block before putting her away for the night. The longest day that I had ridden previous to that one was about five hundred seventy miles. I believe I was only on my Magna about five times after that day.
About a month later I was riding Velvet to an afternoon junior high school track meet when I encountered another rider. He was waiting to turn right into my pathway and I politely moved over one lane to let him in. At the next intersection he pulled alongside me and asked, “When they stop making those are you going to upgrade to a worm?”
He was turning, I was going straight. Quite honestly, his words didn’t register well with me until he had made his turn. I couldn’t imagine that he could be so stupid. Even I knew that they had already stopped making these.
In fairness I must say that I have had many favorable encounters with riders of the better known brand of two wheeler, notably including some one percenters. One gentleman at a stop light was in the next lane and slightly ahead of me. He rolled his Harley backward to get a good look at my mount and exclaimed, “I rode one of those once. Those things are fay-ast!”
My good friend who rode to Sturgis with me rides an Ultra-Glide with after market work on fuel delivery, pistons and exhaust. He casually commented one day that his bike would stay with my Valkyrie. I just smiled and replied, “Close.” A few days later he told me that he had been out looking at new Goldwing 1800’s.
I used to snicker at highly prejudiced people who would excuse themselves by saying, “I’m not prejudiced. Some of my best friends are …” You may fill in the blank with whatever he or she was deeply prejudiced against. I deeply love my Valkyrie and I am easily offended by anyone who shows disrespect to my Dragon. Today I can openly say, “I’m not prejudiced against Harley riders. Some of my best friends ride Harleys.”
I am greatly infatuated with my Valkyrie, but I have long ago come to accept that it is not the bike that everyone wants to ride. Almost everyone who comments on my ride expresses admiration for its beauty or its speed, but that is not the same as saying, “I want to buy one.”
I don’t greatly fault Honda for discontinuing the Valk. A very large percentage of their potential buyers already own a fine machine that will last them for many years to come. The evidence of the dwindling market is that fully two years after the last Dragon rolled off the assembly line they could still be found brand new in some dealers’ showrooms or even still crated. I do think Honda is making a mistake by not offering a newer, faster, fuel injected version to entice the Valkyrie’s devoted following.
Am I riding my last motorcycle? I don’t think so. I ride around twenty-five thousand miles per year and if I am taken by the longevity that has consumed my forebears I will still have some twenty-three years to ride. When it does come time to replace my Blue Velvet I hope, and believe, that there will still be an ample supply of fine running relatively low mileage Valkyries from which to choose. I may not wait for that time. I may choose to be one to join the ranks of multiple Valkyrie owners.
If this is the last Valkyrie she’s all the motorcycle that I need. If not, well, perhaps I could be persuaded to purchase a new fuel injected, eighteen hundred cc flat six Valkyrie. We may never know.
Update – May 2012: I still ride that 2001 Valkyrie Standard although I have in the intervening years owned and ridden two Valkyrie Interstates as well. The 2001 Blue and White Valkyrie Standard today has more than 166,000 miles on it, over 155,000 with me in the saddle.