My love-hate relationship with Honda

At Intermot in Cologne, Honda displayed an updated version of its sport-tourer in drag, the VFR800X, or Crossrunner. It’s attractive and no doubt engineered as finely as a Swiss watch, packed with enough technology to land a rover on Mars. But it annoys me because it is a fraud. Why? Read on.

2015 VFR800X (Crossrunner)—pretty to look at, safe to assume it’s well engineered. But that’s never going off road, so why the pretence? (Photo: Honda)

Let’s rewind a little bit. Over the years, Honda has acquired somewhere in the region of £60,000 from me in the form of three shiny new cars and two motorbikes. Each was engineered and built to perfection—each was a joy to operate. Among these vehicles I amassed somewhere around 400,000 miles. Only one (bike) left me stranded, in this case due to a manufacturing defect with the clutch kingpin which was resolved swiftly and somewhat humbly by the dealership (not even Honda is perfect).

Suffice it to say I have spent more money with Honda than any other manufacturer (of anything!) and so I feel quite justified to be annoyed and have a strong opinion. So why the love-hate?

Quite simply because they seem to have lost their innovation—the thing that used to make Hondas feel special, right down to their everyday cars and low end scooters. Honda engines always feel like they’re exceeding the 100% mark of their specification... they feel willing and eager. Honda chassis are tight, manageable and always predictable, endowing even the lowliest Civic with handling from much sportier classes of cars. The simple, basic Hornet (CB600FA) felt like a sport bike despite soft, basic, non-adjustable suspension and a sticker price less than two-thirds of the CBR600RR. From the 70s through to the mid-90s, Honda set new standards for design—although a common sight on the roads, Hondas always looked good, like a well-pressed, tailored suit.

1988 Civic—styling/proprotions ahead of its time

Corolla from the same era—awkward

Since then, however, it feels to me that Honda have been relying only on their peerless engineering and forgetting about the other things that used to make them special. The latest 9th generation Civic, for example, already looked out-of-date before it went on sale (the 8th generation was an exception and remains, in my opinion, the most progressive and innovative design from Honda in decades)—in fact, there was so much hate from the automotive community that Honda redesigned the 9th gen within months... worrying...

8th gen Civic—balanced

9th gen Civic—ungainly

Over to the bikes. Honda’s Africa Twin (XRV-series) has achieved almost cult status because it was functional, innovative, capable and reliable. Nothing has directly replaced it since production ended with the 2003 model year. The Transalp/Varadero (XL-series) was a similarly well-loved range with similar credentials, but production ended with the 2013 model year. In fact, as of 2014, the only real dual sport bike in Honda’s range is the highly rated, dirt bike based CRF250L which might do for a (lightly packed) solo journey, but is not designed to transport two humans and their worldly belongings. We will disregard this excellent bike as it not a ‘heavy’ adventure bike.

Africa Twin—pin-up adventure bike

Transalp 700—fit for purpose on and off road

Honda’s heavy ‘adventure’ range (in the UK) now consists of a number of beak-endowed road bikes with ‘X’ designations—the CB500X, the NC750X, the VFR800X (Crossrunner) and the VFR1200X (Crosstourer). All use tarmac-oriented 17” wheels front and rear, apart from the 1200 which has a traditional (for dual sport bikes) 19” front/17” rear combination.

Honda needs to do some soul-searching and start leading the market again, instead of playing catch-up, or worse, putting out tangible apathy.

Let’s talk wet weights (with all fluids plus 3/4 full fuel tank)—dual sport bikes should be as light as possible, right? People routinely criticise BMW for making heavy bikes, so how does Honda do? The range is decidedly porky—CB500X (196kg), NC750X (219kg or 229kg with the dual clutch transmission), Crossrunner 800cc (240kg) and Crosstourer 1200cc (275kg or 285kg with the dual clutch).

Compare this to BMW’s ‘heavy’ adventure bikes—G650GS (192kg), F700GS 800cc (209kg), F800GS (214kg), R1200GS (238kg). Adventure (long range) versions of the F800GS and R1200GS weigh in at 229kg and 260kg respectively. Each BMW is about the same weight as the equivalent Honda from one engine class lower (Honda does not offer long range versions of their bikes). BMW engineer the GS range to be dual sport bikes from the start, whereas Honda adventure bikes are now just tarted up versions of regular, road-going bikes.

Dressing up doesn’t change what’s at the core, Honda! (Photo: Daily Mail)

Where is the innovation? Slightly taller suspension, a few plastic bits and a good PR department do not constitute innovation and shames the mantra of the late Soichiro Honda—‘Believe in your dreams and they will believe in you’. Perhaps most telling is that adventure parts company Touratech currently only offer 20 parts for the Crosstourer, 2 parts for the NC700X (predecessor of the NC750X) and no parts for any of Honda’s other bikes in this class—out of their range of literally thousands of parts for other adventure bikes (their catalogue is nearly 2,000 pages).

I know Honda is capable of innovation, but was this mostly due to Soichiro Honda’s genius and vision? An excellent example is the 50cc Honda Cub—tiny, underpowered but utterly charming and packed with innovation in its day—more than 60 million of these were sold worldwide. In the 70s, Honda’s CVCC engine cut emissions through innovation. In the late 80s, Honda’s NSX shook up the supercar scene due to its (comparatively) low cost and class-leading performance and handling. Also in the late 80s, the Civic set new standards in the economy car class with race car style double wishbone suspension and (then) futuristic styling.

Since Soichiro’s death in 1991, Honda has become a shadow of its former self. Nothing truly groundbreaking has come from them since—they have lost their magic. The products and features which made them special have slowly disappeared from market. Civics now use bog-standard strut and multilink suspension systems—gone are the wonderful double wishbones at all four corners. Their once shining examples of adventure bikes died away, leaving ‘me too’, late-to-the-party, jump-on-the-bandwagon exercises in styling in their places, in a half-hearted attempt at stealing a bit of the pie from BMW and others in this class. Honda has become Sony—solid, well-engineered products that excite about as much as white goods... I can’t remember the last time the thought of a new dishwasher raised my pulse. Poor Soichiro is rolling in his grave.

There are noises in the media about a replacement for the Africa Twin—but they remain just that... rumours... vapourware. Honda needs to do some soul-searching and start leading the market again, instead of playing catch-up, or worse, putting out tangible apathy. No one will replace Soichiro’s genius, but of the 5 billion humans on this planet, chances are there is someone out there to supplement and progress it.

How some believe a new Africa Twin could look (image source unknown)

Come on, Honda, pull a finger out and start doing you own thing again. Show me some magic (again) and I’ll show you my wallet (again).

Agree? Disagree? Tell me in the comments...

Postscript

I think it’s important to mention what I believe to be Honda’s hits since the 90s—but the list is short, considering the number of products they produce. Mentioned above, the design of the 8th generation Civic. The hugely popular N-Box series in Japan (bring them to the UK please). The European Accord Type R from 1998–2002. The MSX125/Grom (aka the new Monkey Bike). The 7th and 8th generation European Accord (Acura TSX in North America). The VFR1200F with the first available dual clutch transmission in a mainstream motorcycle. And their ‘whisper quiet’ diesel engine range which set a new standard for smoothness and low vibration.

And that brings me to the Paris Auto Show with Honda’s main attraction—the imminent new Civic Type R ‘Concept’ (in usual Honda fashion, this concept is practically production-ready). They have done a good job giving a lift to the dowdy standard hatchback’s looks by flaring it out and redoing the rear end with a novel spoiler integrating the rear lighting. It’s unmistakably Honda and unmistakably Japanese—it has identity.

The new Type R is the most daring effort from Honda in years, polarising public opinion and not playing it safe for once. It’s over-the-top, showy, over-styled, perhaps even crass—and I love it for that.

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Honda’s identity crisis

My blog is about bikes—in particular the F800GS—so this entry is, in itself, suffering from something of an identity crisis.

My career has spanned 22 years in the field of corporate graphic design with a focus on brand identity. The graphic design industry has developed something of a bad name, with inexpensive, powerful computers and software available to anyone fancying themselves a bit of a designer from their basement... so opinions vary and everyone certainly has one.

I am of the opinion that automotive design is the pinnacle of the industry. Where else does design combine aesthetics, engineering, safety, comfort, dynamics and economy? I have a huge appreciation and a great deal of respect for the blood, sweat and tears that go into every detail of a modern vehicle.

Which brings me to Honda. A company close to my heart, having owned 3 of their cars and 2 of their bikes through the years. Considered by many to be one of the finest engineering companies in the world, their cars are well known to be among the most reliable, and their engines among the most durable.

Honda's styling is a different matter, however. Through the years they have had some incredible design hits, such as the then-futuristic 1988–91 Civic and clean-cut 1990–92 Accord—both designed to showcase their expensive and compact double wishbone suspension using design cues such as impossibly low beltlines.

So what happened when they redesigned the 9th generation Civic? The styling was such a disaster and an offence to the eye that the refresh scheduled for its 4th year was brought forward 3 years (pictured). Despite this, it still lacks the coherent, clean styling of its predecessor and gained frumpy proportions, awkward angles, and a flabby set of tail lamps straight off a Taurus or Camry from a decade ago.

The gobs of plastic chrome on the front and rear are out of place with the black trim on the sides. The window line is disturbed by a black triangle of plastic on its leading edge where a single window lived previously.

The stance is somehow wrong, looking almost as though the wheels have a negative camber—shaky knees. This is worsened by the increased overall length and decreased wheelbase compared to the previous generation.

It looks a bit pants.


In my opinion the 8th generation Civic is one of Honda's more recent styling hits, particularly the Japanese/European version.
Ignoring the shopping trolley handle rear wing specific to the Type-R (pictured), the design is clean and tidy, and the shape flows harmoniously from front to rear. The plastic chrome above the front intake fits well with the design and doesn't look like a pretentious attempt to move the car further upmarket.

It brings to mind the spirit of the 4th generation (1988–91) with its short front and long cabin. Honda never quite managed to capture this spirit with the 5th, 6th and 7th generations.

The flowing profile is offset by round detailing in the headlights, tail lamps, fuel filler cover and the wheels themselves, coming together to give a sense of stability and strength.

The face is slightly aggressive without being offensive—the slim headlights widen the appearance of the front end and the rearward curve toward the wheels emphasises and makes a feature of the short engine compartment.

The design is tight and sorted, with none of the frumpiness of its successor.

All is not lost with the 9th generation. Although the hatch version is also a questionable bit of design with some dumpy proportions, it seems Honda is listening—the upcoming tourer (pictured in concept form) loses the bad bits from the hatch and is, to my eyes at least, distinctive, flowing and harmonious on the whole, although some details such as the front air intakes are a bit fussy.

Honda's transition from concept to production traditionally consists of different wheels and lighting details, so what you see here should be virtually indistinguishable to the real thing.

In Europe, medium sized estates sell well and Honda may just have a sales hit on their hands.

I like some of the details such as the hidden rear door handles, which give the car a style reminiscent of a shooting brake, and the 3D tail lamps. The curving upper window line and bulging wheel arches effectively mask the fact this is actually cargo-carrying box on wheels.

Overall, Honda have managed to turn a utilitarian class of vehicle into something fairly desirable.

It will be interesting to see how the low end models with clear windows and small wheels ruin the design, but in Britain it shouldn't be a problem since buyers tend to spec up to the biggest wheels available.

I still question what happened to the disaster that is the saloon/sedan model. It's difficult to imagine the two cars are the same vehicle underneath the bodywork. Instead of continuity between the two, it is as though two teams of designers set to work in their own bubbles, completely isolated from each other.

Time will tell, but I for one hope Honda go back to their roots and start designing iconic cars again. Cars which complement their incredible engineering and still look good 20 years on.

Photos: World Honda

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Goodbye, Hornet... 4 years of solid, reliable motoring - the F800GS has a lot to live up to

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What’s all this, then?

There are several places I call home, having grown up between Canada and Greece, with a brief stint in Rocklin California.

So how did I end up in London? I suppose I got to a point in my life where I had nothing more to aspire to. I had a good job that paid well, a nice flat with a view of the mountains, lots of good friends and a new car. Everything was grand but the challenge was gone.

London was a natural choice as I knew quite a few people here and could speak in my native language. Back in the early 2000s jobs were easy to come by and I got my foot in the door working for the NHS as a PA and eventually working my way back into my chosen field of corporate communication design.

Living here has been a great challenge, but with the challenge has come even bigger rewards. For the first time in my life I feel as though I’ve earned my place.

Of course life has had annoyances as well—public transport, for example. Wait for a bus. Get on bus. Cringe as I'm relieved of more money for the journey than in any other city in the world. Squeeze in like a sardine. Attempt to keep away from the airborne mucus of the inevitable coughers and sneezers. Suffocate. Arrive at work (eventually) in a strop.

Photo: Honda SH125i • Source: Honda UK

There had to be a better way. So I went out and bought myself a Honda SH125i, took my CBT and two weeks later took my full road test. Somehow I passed first try, although with power and automatic gearbox restrictions on my licence.

Suddenly I looked forward to commuting. It was actually a pleasure to get up in the morning knowing I didn't have to get on a bus.

And I stopped getting annoying sniffly colds all the time.

Working at a hospital, I am by default exposed to more bugs and viruses than the average person so the fact I've rarely been sick in years is testament to just how dirty buses are.

About 8 months after getting the SH I got knocked off when a blind woman in a hybrid decided to overtake someone making a left turn. I was beside her at the time and she didn't feel the need to look over her shoulder beforehand.

Seeing her begin to turn the wheel, I slammed on the brakes but the edge of her rear bumper caught my pillion foot peg. Down I went, right in front of Fulham Broadway Station during the morning rush. Since that wasn't embarrassing enough, of course I managed to get my leg pinned under the bike with my knee pressed against the horn button.

Other than losing my biking virginity there was no injury and only £7 damage to the bike (new plastic bit for the foot peg). But the experience identified a need for me to get a proper bike—something with a bit more substance.

I hired a Honda Varadero 125 one weekend to learn how to operate the clutch and somehow rode it away from the dealership without stalling the engine. I spent the next few hours circling Richmond Park stopping, starting, braking and terrified but loving it.

The following week I booked in for an assessment at a training centre to do my Direct Access Scheme to remove the power and automatic gearbox restrictions from my licence. They had me ride round the lot on a 500cc Kawasaki and figured I needed 1.5 day's training with my road test in the afternoon of the second day.

Photo: Honda CB600FA Hornet • Source: Honda UK

In the meantime I put down a deposit on a 2008 Honda Hornet. Three days before taking delivery I stood my road test. It went well, although nearly cocked up the U-turn. Somehow didn't put my foot down (automatic fail).

I find this a curious exercise. Every day I've ridden a motorbike I've done a U-turn without a second thought to park up at home. But when the examiner had his judging eye on me, suddenly self-doubt set in.

As well, I was instructed to filter during my test. Although this is an everyday fact of life, it seemed somehow wrong to do during a road test—it proved uneventful, however.

With great relief I passed the road test. No more automatic restriction. No more power restriction.
I part exchanged the SH and rode home on the Hornet. Going from 14hp to 102hp in one shot is, to be honest, a terrifying experience. It's like going from a diesel Smart to a Bugatti.

Fortunately the Hornet is a very easy motorbike to ride. The centre of gravity is very low which makes it extremely stable and easy to turn. After a few days, I started getting used to the power and it began to feel very progressive and controllable. I became attached to my bike in no time.

The Hornet proved to be a cracking bike—absolutely fantastic in the city. It's light, manoeuvrable and quick. And less than £10 a week for petrol. In fact, to fuel and insure it each month cost considerably less than a monthly bus pass. This highlights how very, very wrong the pricing model for public transport is in London.

I travelled a couple times on the Hornet but this proved to be its weak point. No wind protection. At 70mph on the motorway the air pressure felt roughly equivalent to having my full body weight pressing on my head/chest. Anything more than a few hours was exhausting.

Intending to do a lot more travelling by motorbike, it was time to retire the Hornet. I started to research dual sport bikes and fell in love with the BMW F800GS. Two weeks later I visited Park Lane BMW and went for a test ride. An hour of negotiations later and I put down a £1,000 deposit on a 2012 F800GS Trophy.

Four years to the day I will bid goodbye to the Hornet, secretly hoping it will go to a good home and be cared for as well as I have done. It's strange how we become attached to an engineered amalgamation of alloy, plastic and rubber.

Will the F800GS find a place in my heart once the novelty wears off? Time will tell but for now you couldn't wipe the grin off my face.

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