The Motorbike Archives

But sometimes, just looking is not enough. And in the case of Honda's heavily restyled 1987 Magna V-Four, it's almost guaranteed that unless you ride the bike, you'll stick the wrong label on it.

That's because the Magna's appearance promises something the bike won't deliver. What you see is not what you get. When your eyes pass over the fat, 1 5-inch rear tire, the disc-type aluminum rear wheel, the four radically upswept exhausts, the Ferrari Testarossa-like airscoops on the side panels, and the brightest metallic-red paint job this side of Italy, the message is one of brute performance, suggesting that the Magna is some sort of latter-day V-Max. But despite having all the trappings of a stoplight hot-rod, the 700cc V-Four Magna is definitely not the latest one-dimensional, faster-than-everything speed king from Japan; it's more than that. That's right, more. Because under all that catch-me-if-you-can styling lies what may well be one of the most rational, practical motorcycles on the market today.

Functionally, you see, what the Magna has to offer is a superb ride, a high level of rider comfort, predictable handling, reassuring stability, ease of operation and considerable versatility. What it does not have is heart-stopping performance. Mind you, the bike is anything but slow; ours sailed through the quarter-mile in 12.21 seconds at 108 mph. But while that's respectable by any standards, it's not quite in the same performance league with, say, Yamaha's 700 Fazer, which undoubtedly is the Magna's closest competition—and about a half-second quicker in the quarter. But while the Fazer may have the more exciting punch, it also has a relatively peaky engine and sensitive throttle response that make it more difficult to ride smoothly.

Actually, the Magna performs admirably for having an engine that is in its fifth year. This 699cc, liquid-cooled, dohc, 90-degree V-Four is nearly as quick as the original 748cc Magna introduced by Honda in 1982. The '87 engine is little changed from last year's, but Honda claims to have found almost three more horsepower by altering the intake ports, the cam timing and the exhaust system, and fitting a larger airbox.

More power or not, though, the Magna, unlike the Fazer, never reaches a point where the thing suddenly gets a surge of horsepower and blasts off; instead, the power always is metered out in a perfectly linear fashion, from idle to redline. And this, along with the flat, droning exhaust note produced by all Honda V-Fours with a 360-degree crankshaft (the only exception is the VFR750, which has a 180-degree crank), makes the Magna feel slower than it actually is.

Two other factors further contribute to this deception. One is the extreme smoothness of the Magna's engine. It produces so little perceptible vibration anywhere in the rpm range that it never feels like it's working very hard. Then there's the Magna's exceptionally tall top-gear ratio. This "overdrive," as Honda likes to call it, makes for better fuel mileage, but it also mandates at least one, probably two, downshifts to pass slower traffic at a comfortably quick pace.

At legal highway speeds, however, the overdrive is wonderful, allowing the engine to seem like it's barely turning as it hums along at low revs. And nothing about the bike's ergonomics interferes with that casual, soothing attitude. The Magna has one of the best seating positions in the business, leaning the rider slightly forward with his or her weight centered op the buttocks, and positioning the footpegs to give ample legroom for average-size riders. The handlebar bend allows the arms and wrists to settle into a natural and relaxed position. The seat is firm but quite comfortable, with no hard edges or bumps to distort its slightly rounded contour. Its stepped design does, however, prevent taller riders from sliding back into what might be, for them, a more comfortable riding position.

In addition, the Magna's suspension provides a remarkably compliant ride. The front fork soaks up the small bumps and pavement ripples almost completely, and it insulates the rider from most of the harshness that comes from things like potholes and speed bumps. And as good as the fork is, the dual rear shocks are even better. They do a good job of controlling the up-and-down chassis movement that can be such an annoyance on shaft-driven motorcycles, but they still provide a luxurious ride while keeping the rear wheel on the ground over rough sections of road.

Around town, the Magna feels best when the suspension is adjusted softly. It then lets you enjoy the ride and forget about every little bump or dip in the road. Set up that way, the Magna is so easy and pleasurable to control that it seems to make urban cruising or riding where there are stoplights growing on every corner less of an annoyance and more of a pleasure.

The Magna also works well out on the open road. It's no turn-key touring bike, certainly, but its superb suspension and ergonomics help make it much better for long rides than most other cruiser-style bikes in the class, including Honda's own 700 Shadow. The long, 65-inch wheelbase, 6 inches of front-wheel trail and 19-inch front wheel result in a bike that is quite a stable straight-line platform, one that doesn't deviate from its line unless the rider so wishes.

If this leads you to conclude that the Magna isn't all that comfortable hustling along tight, twisty roads, well, to a certain extent you're right. In all fairness, the Magna behaves surprisingly well in the curves, but its slow steering and Greyhound-class wheelbase force the rider to work fairly hard when bending the bike around the turns, especially the tighter ones. The high, wide handlebar helps a lot, as does cranking up the shock preload to provide more stability at high speed and make scraping the footpegs a little more difficult. But if you like to explore the limits of traction at radical cornering angles, the Magna is not your cup of tea, simply because it was never meant to be.

Neither are the Magna's brakes oriented toward roadrace-style riding, although, like the engine, they're deceptively competent. The drum rear brake is about average in feel and performance, but the effort required to use most or all of the front disc's stopping power is rather high for a Japanese bike. Some of this is because the span between the lever and the large-diameter handgrip is quite long, requiring most riders to work the brake with their fingertips. But although many riders might feel they need more brake, the fact is that the large single front disc provides good feedback and plenty of stopping ability, and it is less likely to be locked up inadvertently during a panic stop than most Japanese front brakes.

That's probably an endearing trait for a motorcycle of this type—although it's not quite clear exactly what type of motorcycle the Magna is supposed to be. In its well-meaning attempt to pigeonhole every motorcycle into some clearly defined category, Honda has classified the Magna as a "performance custom." But that message, which is the same one sent out by the styling, is not what this motorcycle is all about, in functional terms, at least. This is a sheep in wolf's clothing, a bike that looks like some kind of custom-built, fire-breathing hot-rod, but that in actuality is one of the most versatile, practical, downright civilized machines on the market right now. In that respect, the Magna fits more into the "standard" mold than it does into any performance-bike category.

But where is it written that a motorcycle has to fit into any category? What's important is not how a bike is classified, but how well it works and whether or not you like it. And with the Magna, there's plenty to like. It does almost everything uncommonly well and nothing poorly; and the styling is certainly interesting to look at whether you like it or not.

That, in fact, tells you everything you need to know about the Magna. If you don't care for its appearance, everything else is academic; you're not likely to buy one. But if its styling punches all of the right buttons for you. rest assured that nothing else about the bike—aside, maybe, from its stoplight-racing prowess—is likely to disappoint you. It is competence defined.■