" ... as the VFR750F tracked precisely through the entrance to the curve. I leaned harder, digging my feet in against the pegs, my fingers resting against the clutch and brake levers.  I opened the throttle another quarter turn, feeling the rush of power that only twin gear driven overhead cams and sixteen valves can deliver. The four Keihn downdraft carburetors breathed in fresh air to feed the ever hungry three quarter liter V-Four engine cradled in the twin spar aluminum frame.  

Instantly, the bike responded, gaining speed. 

The frame absorbed the stress of the turn without complaining. 

I leaned further over, nearly dragging the pegs against the surface of the road as I kept my speed through the turn.  Beside and beneath me, the hot surface of the asphalt roared by like a raging, swollen black river, threatening to drag me under at any second.  I heard the siren song of the tires against the pavement, calling out to me as I slowly pulled myself upright, easing out of the curve and onto the shimmering interstate.  

The VFR and I ...

One Siamesed entity. Man joined to machine at the wrists and the ankles in a ninety mile an hour waltz across the interstate, together keeping time to the orchestral cacophony of sound that was the music of the engine and the resonance of the exhaust that was the applause ..."


-From The Life Of Christopher T. Shields