One score and five years ago, Motorcycle Online was one year old and full o’ beans, broadcasting squawkily but surely to hundreds of early-adopter nerd motorcyclists over the interwebs. Who knew what a monolith it would become? Well, Brent Plummer and his early band of acolytes knew; unfortunately they didn’t have time to hang around while the world caught up, bless their hearts, or to afford a camera. Sounds like Andy Saunders, who wrote this excellent BMW review, packed up and moved back to England. Good on him, and Godspeed to all.

Twenty-five years ago Motorcycle Online‘s beloved founder, only one year into its founding and staring up an icy ski jump of an uphill battle (Motorcycle Onwhat?), found himself invited to the launch of the third iteration of one of Honda’s greatest hits of all time – the CBR600 F3. The original CBR600 Hurricane of 1987 was a breakthrough machine that launched 1000 squids, the F2 of a few years later was the first bike upon which yours truly drug knee, and the F3 only improved upon what was a fantastic sportbike you could also vacation upon. Maybe because you were only 35? Sure, they’ve built a lot of faster and sportier bikes since, but I almost think If Honda should  last for a thousand years, men will still say, “This was their finest hour.”

For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice, and shall see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel, who satteth at the right hand of Taglioni. Yea verily, what is a nice original 748 going for these days? The 916 is the collectible Ducati all the collectors want, yet were it I doing the collecting, the higher-winding banana-yellow 748 is the bike I’d want to ride out once or twice a year to forgive all iniquity, heal all  disease, redeem life from the pit,  crown with steadfast love and mercy and satisfy with good so that my youth is renewed like the eagle’s. Is that so much to ask?

And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his Keihin FCR the breath of life (with accelerator pump); and man became a living soul. There was also the street version that first year, the DR-Z400S, but our man Mark Kariya would not have been caught dead on that, not when Suzuki invited him to ride the new “E” at Soboba with Malcolm Smith. Twenty years on, Suzuki still stocks the DR-Z400S and SM; now with the breath of life via Mikuni BSR36. When men were men, amen.

The world has come to grips with saddlebags on Ducatis now, my friends, but that wasn’t always the case. First came the ST2 with the air-cooled motor and it was good. Then a few years later, the ST4 with the liquid-cooled 916 engine: 99.5 horsepower were more than enough then, though frankly we usually preferred the nearly equal torque of the ST2 a couple thousand rpm sooner. Twenty years later, we’re waiting not-so patiently for the 200-hp V-four Multistrada to get here. There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked.

Verily, it really has been 20 years since the world did not seize up at the millennium, the World Trade Center stood tall, and one could still fix all the world’s ills with a jet kit and a few hundred bucks worth of suspension stuff from Race Tech. It feels more like a lifetime ago. How did it all go so pear-shaped so fast? A clean Honda VTR1000, however, still seems like a great way to go.

And in those days when the MOites traversed the digital divide after Ashley parted the waters, many fantastic road tests made it into the modern age, but some without their accompanying stunning photography. This review for instance, written by His Dukeness on the occasion of the amazing new Star VMax a decade ago. But fear ye not, as by that time we’d also begun making stunning videos, which may last on Youtube long after we’ve all departed this mortal coil. Actually the vid shows what the mighty Max was capable of beyond what words can convey anyway, not to mention Kev in all his youthful glory.

When I was 49, it was a very good year for long-legged bikes of independent means who lived under the stairs, with all those perfumed valves. We’d ride through the night, and the tank was green. Now I think of this Guzzi as vintage wine from fine old kegs, from the shaft drive to the dregs. I’m sure it still runs sweet and clear, it was a very good year. 

“The GS for the rest of us” was a good subhead, because by 2009 very few of us weren’t already riding one or another version of the pre-existing boxer-powered GS, leaving the new parallel-Twin only to fill in the gaps. Aboard it, the Apostle Pete was able to traverse territory where even action photographers feared to tread. Ten years on, the F850GS and F850GS Adventure soldier on for BMW, and Moab is still in Utah. Whirled without end, amen.

Before there was S1000RR or R, before anyone thought BMW would ever compete in World Superbike, before the six-cylinders and at the dawn of ESA and a thousand other acronyms, there was this 560-pound beast. From Flying Brick to HP4 trick, this powerful sport-tourer bridged the gap. Cue Ride of the Valkyries. Amen. 

When you’re one of the most popular platforms for superbike road racing success, how do you out-do yourself? In the case of the ultra-victorious Suzuki GSX-R1000, nothing less than a ground-up overhaul was in order. The 2009 Gixxer liter machine underwent such comprehensive redesign (though it looks remarkably similar to ‘08) that Suzuki refers to the update as “a full model change.”

Let us open our hymnals to the song of the 60-degree liquid-cooled Porsche-designed V-Rod engine, whose 2001 launch represented the last Radical Departure for Harley-Davidson. With its hydroformed frame and underseat gas tank, this bike was the way to the future, one that sadly ended after 2017. In this review of the new V-Rod Muscle from 10 years ago, you can feel Pete “the Rock’s” pain as he struggles to produce faint praise. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

And yet I tell you, there is nothing new under the sun. And lately, there’s not even much that’s old under here either. Once we’ve blown through all the 20-year old MO road tests and things followed by the 10-year old ones, well, it is better to eat a dry crust of bread with peace of mind than to have a banquet in a house full of trouble. Herein, Commander Duke and the Apostle Pete get to the bottom of two bikes that are still with us. And so it is ridden. 

One of these, my friends, is still with us, and the other moved onto its reward, far too soon, the year after this little comparison starring Pete and Riding Man Mark Gardiner. Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Crusher Man cometh.

Yea verily, hard times make hard motorcycles, and in the decade that’s passed since the Great Recession, it seems like the grindstone that is the marketplace has produced not only some amazing high-tech motorcycles, but also many more winners to satiate the poor, who will always be with us – now more than ever. Ten years ago, traction control was in its infancy and the MU had not yet been plucked from thine I. The ubiquitous GoPro had just been dropped in the manger, and none of us knew we’d become slaves to Youtube. How’s our hair? Roll film, Amen.

And at that time, 14 years ago, General Ets-Hokin went out among the Berkeleyites and Roombas and came back with this story about a young engineer working on a robotic motorcycle for the military. The actual file has mysteriously disappeared from the MO archive: Luckily, Gabe had saved the story and has lived to tell it (though his computer with the photos has expired from complications due to lack of a charging cord). Meanwhile Anthony Levandowski, who has kept on pursuing his self-driving dreams, suddenly finds himself in the news, and not in a good way. There’s an excellent summation of his troubles at Wired, among many other places. (Note that MO’s original story is the only one to spell Mr. L’s name correctly. Boom!) 

And in that pixellated time two decades ago, BMW said let there be a 125cc scooter with a roof on it, and seat belts, so people in cars will feel safe riding it and won’t even have to wear a helmet – and can feel good about preserving the planet. And it was kind of good, but not good enough. BMW slew the C1 in 2002, after just two years of production. In Europe, now and then, an ancient C1 still pokes its aluminum roll-cage out above the rows of scooters. 
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It’s beginning to look like the meek may not inherit the earth after all, brethren, but if they’re as meek as these five bikes were ten years ago, that’s a good thing. Truly, a couple of these are still around – one has grown into a real motorcycle for not much more money than ten years ago, and one remains as it was then, but for quite a bit more coin. The others seem to have disappeared into the mists of time. Sad. OK, not really. 

It seems like the motorcycle industry is on the verge of changing and Piaggio is at the forefront. Piaggio deserves kudos for trying to lead the way in many new areas in the two wheeled world. Piaggio is trying to make three wheeled motorcycles and large capacity motorcycles with automatic transmissions mainstream – some serious hybrids are on the way too. But is the world ready for the Mana yet?

And so it came to pass at the turn of the century, that MO finally got its hands on a BMW GS. Though a test of an earlier GS may have happened earlier than in MO’s sixth year of life, any record is prehistoric. In those days, convincing manufacturers to lend motorcycles to an online magazine was still like conjecturing why it might be good for your phone to contain a camera. Minime and the other disciples knew not what to make of the second-gen Oilhead bike’s looks, but the enthusiasm of riding the Bavarian boxer was impossible to disguise. All these years later, the GS remains BMW’s greatest hit. Whirled without end, amen.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. The ER-6n is no more, but Kawasaki will sell you a Z650 for only $600 more this decade later – $6,999. And while Gladius has left the building, the Suzuki SV650 remains, for a mere $200 more than ten years ago – $7,099. Let us bow our heads in honor of the cheap middleweight twin, and haggle. Whirled without end, amen.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. The BMW K1300 is no more, but Japan Inc. is still cranking out Concours 14s, FJR1300s and even the venerable Honda ST1300. And though the rest of the MO staff has evolved, the lovely and talented Gabe remains, along with the greatest gift the gods have given us, ie., the long and winding road from LA to Monterey, and the excuse to go there thanks to the annual pilgrimage to watch the races at Laguna Seca. Last time, we shot lots of pictures of the native girls, but they’re not developed yet.* We’re going back in two weeks. World without end, amen.

Thirteen years ago, Gabe, Pete and Fonzie (hereafter known as the “Three Wise Men”) set forth upon this great continent dedicated to the proposition that speed is good, and that more speed is better – testing whether these motorcycles, or any motorcycles so conceived and dedicated, could long endure. Ah, turns out the answer is yes. Suzuki and Kawasaki are still turning these things out. We’d like to ride them to Mammoth again as soon as they add cruise control.

And so it came to pass that everybodys’ computer did not seize up at the stroke of midnight, at the end of the 20th century. Later that year in Florida, though, the chads, they did hang, leading to the appointment of King Bush the Second. And so it was written by the dissenting majority of the Supreme Court, “Although we may never know with complete certainty the identity of the winner of this year’s Presidential election, the identity of the loser is perfectly clear. It is the Nation’s confidence in the judge as an impartial guardian of the rule of law.” Well, like, that’s just your three opinions, man. The W650 took the MO crew to its happy place, in that happy time. Amen. 

And so it came to pass, a day late and a dollar short. Honda’s brilliant CBR900RR begat the second in its line of superbikes to require two capital “R”s in its descriptor. Verily, the 929 was a fine motorcycle, but born misfortunately the year after the new Yamaha R1 had plucked the eyeballs from every coveter of ludicrous power and light weight. Someday, the acolytes say, Honda will rise again.

One decade and four months ago, our fathers Duke, Pete and Fonzie, brought forth upon MO this comparison test to see if Italian and American V-twin sportbikes were created equal. The answer is no. We have come today to dedicate this Church of MO as a final resting place for those who gave up an entire Tuesday and most of a Wednesday to produce this comparo, I mean, it’s the least we could do really. 

And at that time, the apostle Pete journeyed to the land of paella to ride the redesigned Monster, but arrived unfashionably late. And why was he anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For we’re going to eat and drink all of it, and then we’re going for a ride. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you, along with an APTC clutch. `Nuff said.

And then did King Trump threaten the motorcycle traders with big tariffs, and then did they all tremble in fear and wail and gnash their gear teeth. And yet fear nowt they should, as 25 years ago, yea verily a quarter of a century, the frugal motorcycles on the market for $6000 ducats were mainly cheesier than the ones you can get now for about the same money. Consumer Price Index, Shmindex. Let us squawk back to the days of the dial-up modem and when photography required skill. A reading from the book of Andy Saunders and the men who founded MO, before some of them became women. Amen.

O death, where is your Victory? O death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the Victory… Polaris giveth and Polaris taketh away; a decade ago the future looked bright, as Victory celebrated its tenth anniversary. A reading from the book of Fonzie.

When Aprilia, with her showers sweet the drought of March hath pierced to the root, and when Jesus rolls into Cinco de Mayo to make glorious spring out of our winter’s discontent, and to party, he doesn’t always show up on an interesting thumper, but 22 years ago he did. And so it is written, and so sprouted another ADV seedling.
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And in those days, the Apostle Terblanche wandered in from Wherever, and adorned the long-running Supersport with all-new bodywork, while the Italians lavished upon it a new fuel-injection system and other upgrades to prepare it for the 21st century. In the half-faired 750 version here, it actually doesn’t look half bad does it? But even though Terblanche took the new bike’s lines from his earlier, highly praised Supermono, the Ducatisti were not impressed; Pierre took his 30 pieces of silver, purchased a blancmange, and went off to plot his revenge with the 999. And so it is written. 

And Jesus was raised on the third day, according to the Scriptures, but when he emerged from the tomb and saw that people were still using dial-up modems and AOL, and that the MO photos were tiny and that Harley-Davidson had just bought Buell… he said, Y’know what?  This is ridiculous. I’m going on back in the crib to sleep a bit longer. Let’s try this resurrection thing again in a few years, mm’kay? And so it is written, far as you know.

And in that year, one score and no more ago, Abraham Lincoln and the Suzukiites came down from the mountain with the Hayabusa tablets, which received huge play because that bike went 186 miles per, and because the world’s moto-VIPs (including yours truly) got to not only ride the coppertone missile that fast on the Spanish main, but also around Circuito Catalunya – and it was a big deal in a time when speed was all the rage, the world had not completely gone to Hell in a handbasket, and run-on sentences could go on for entire paragraphs with no one really caring or even noticing. Quietly, via the backdoor, Suzuki also introduced a new midsize twin-cylinder standard that year. Rather than just write a glowing review, King of the MOites Brent Plummer wandered in the desert for months to come up with this, which I think was his malcontent version of a glowing review. 

Ch-ch-ch-changes, my brethren. 2009 was only one decade ago, but so much has changed. Now the Tuono has four pistons instead of two, Buell has left the building – and so have Duke Danger, Pete, Fonzie, and the antipathy toward naked bikes the lads lamented at the time. Now that it’s 2019, let us embrace our naked ambition, throw off whatever pretensions toward fairness we once thought we had, and prey (upon the weak). Amen.

Yea verily, with all that’s come and gone with Erik Buell and his motorcycles, it’s hard to believe only 20 years have transpired since he begat the X1. This was truly a motorcycle that was stealthily sneaking up on being a machine that could compete with some of the best in the world. At that time, Harley-Davidson had just bought up control of Buell Motorcycles. Surely goodness and mercy would follow Buell all the days of his life? 

Before there was Multistrada there was ST2, Ducati’s first sport-tourer with saddlebags, and it was good. Strangely, the apostle Tom didn’t have much to say. Happy 21st birthday to her anyway. Amen.

Twenty years ago, cruisers were bigger than their riders, and every manufacturer wanted a place at the table. Surely largeness and mercy shall follow us all the days of our lives, and we shall dwell in the house of the Tuning Fork forever.

And in those days they yet knew not of 911 nor cared about global warming, fake news, or electric motorcycles. They cared then only of  being “sandwiched on a dance floor between two hot, curvy co-eds,” and it was good, and so was the FXDX twenty years ago. And so it was written.

And before Triumph figured out what it was doing and became king of the classics, it tried to fight head to head against the Japanese, sending modern Triples into battle covered in plastic armor, and none among them had cruise control. Could the Sprint ST overpower the reigning VFR800? Well, it was a noble effort.

Yea, bigly did BMW’s first attempt at a Goldwing style luxo-cruiser enter the arena, and who were we to decipher what it meant or make a defining judgement? Nay, not wishing to offend, it fell to MO to do a lot of beating about the sacred bush in foreign lands. The photos are according to the apostle Greg, who refuses to take credit for the words. Of which there are many and numerous.

Twenty years ago, yea verily, two decades, huge Hogs and custom cruisers ruled the land, and though the photos on MO grew ever smaller, the motorcycles kept expanding. Bigger was better until it wasn’t, but we weren’t there yet. Nay, we were just getting started. Squinteth along, brethren, to get some idea of the Native American-inspired beauty that was the Drifter 1500. 

And in those waning days days of the 20th century, everybody knew his place. Crotch rockets with cylinders numbering four, came from the East in great numbers to be ridden by sybarites and Phyllistines, and motorcycles from Germania were for aged gentlepersons of great wealth and knowledge but low testosterone. And you knew who you were then, goils were goils and men were men, those were the days. A reading from the Book of MO…

Oy vey, how things have changed in just 20 years. Though the Canon was still upon the Wing and His eye upon the light meter, in 1999 Bush II had not yet ascended to the throne, the Millennium and 9/11 had not yet occurred, and the Honda CBR600 was still one of the biggest-selling motorcycles in the world – even though the new F4 still wore carburetors and MO’s illustrious founder still wore the pants. Good times. Let us revisit the Las Vegas launch. Amen.

July 6, 1999, Los AngelesIt may be too distinct looking for a few of the combed-over (or soon to be combed-over), middle-aged white guys who comprise much of the motorcycle industry — as well as a few consumers. But for the girls cruising the Sunset Strip, it’s the bomb.

And in those years of 15 ago, MO’s Eurospondent Yossef Schvetz was having all the great adventures. In this chapter, he travels to the foreign land of Monza to ride a rare bike that we barely knew existed, yea verily, until we saw our first one a couple months ago at Iconic Motorcycles here in the Land of LaLa. Honda doesn’t lend its engines to boutique manufacturers, but this time it did, and the reason why is all in this gospel according to Yossef, who probably wishes he got residuals. Amen.

Fifteen years ago, brothers and sisters, Ducati inverted the number of the beast and loosed upon us the 999, and its latest superbike got very little love. It was a style thing, really. You either loved its Raymond Loewy-inspired design, like me and a few other highly evolved aesthetes, or hated it. And so we must ask, Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in the 999’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly that the 999 is swell AF. And the price is right, now, too.

Harley-Davidson moves in a mysterious ways, its wonders to perform; it plants its footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm. With the imminent exciting arrival of a brand-new flat-track inspired American motorcycle in January that’s not a Harley-Davidson, it’s fun to remember the tenth anniversary of the last flat-track inspired motorcycle that was. The XR1200 was such a crazy idea, H-D was afraid to bring it home to America for a whole year.

KTM firmly places itself into the history books with its first ever superbike! It’s orange, its fast and its right straight out of the crate. KTM really managed to impress both Jeremy McWilliams and myself. The 1148cc V-twin from Mattighofen takes on the world.

One score and four years ago, when MO was in the process of being potty-trained and the world still had hair, it was normal to post a two-bike comparison that wound up comparing three bikes by the time it was over. In those days, no touring Twin needed more than two valves per cylinder, nor water to cool itself. And it was good.

And in those days, MO’s staff consisted of whoever Cashley Hamilton could rope in, not that that was a bad thing. Since MO was heavily invested in racing Buell motorcycles while it was trying to be born, it was no surprise that the Apostle Shawn Higbee (1994 AMA Harley-Davidson Twinsport Champion) could be enticed into writing up a quick Kawasaki ZX-7R review.

Render unto Miller what is Miller’s, and to MO what is MO’s. Yea, though that recently retired roadracing Long Beachian was much more at home on a sportbike, in those days we got him to review a Yamaha V-Star 650 – a bike that’s also only recently retired. Why not? There is nothing new under the sun, what goes around comes around; twenty years later, Miller wrote one of the most epic MO features in recent memory.

Twenty years ago, Massimo Tamburini begat the original MV Agusta F4, complete with 750cc radial-valve inline-Four, and it was good. Ten years later, the F4 begat this beast, with 1078cc and supposedly able to roll at 312 kph. Among the MOites, only the mighty Tor Sagen was able to smite it. A letter from the Enthusians:

Ten years ago, the Tiger was already 15 years old, making the one we just tested in our massive ADV comparison, let’s see, ahhhh, a quarter-century old. Old as Methuselah. Alas, we’ve come a long way in that decade. A reading from the book of Pete.

And in the last century, the people were obsessed with sportybikes and roadracing, and their unnatural lust for these abominable things caused them to be constantly splitting hares on rural roads instead of welcoming aged visitors on V-Stroms and BMW GSs into the motorcycling community. In truth I say unto you, the RF900 and VFR750 were virtual saints compared to the wicked performance machines that would replace them. Yet verily, no one would listen, and so we shake off the dust from our feet as we leave that town behind. Wait, what? Never mind. What’s important is the Honda’s new digital clock.

No score and one decade ago, the builders of custom choppers were selling their wares in great numbers to everyone with a Home Equity Line of Credit, until the Equity wandered off into the desert and many went off to live in mangers. And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, “It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.”

Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto Guzzi the things that are Guzzi’s. If this one ever immigrated to the US, I never saw it?

And in those days before the Crash, and before many Boomers had reached the big four-oh and grown stomachs that make it difficult to bend over, how popular were sportbikes? They were so popular Harley-Davidson built its own roadracer. Now that there are rumors from the east that another purpose-built H-D racer may soon be on the way, it is only fitting that we dredge up the VR1000. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
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And in that happy time Erik and factory had everything they needed in the Garden of East Troy, and were content to spend their days plucking brake levers and skinny grips from the Ducati trees, and herds of horses roamed free among the unicorns to provide more power. And in 1996 the factory gave birth to the S1 Lightning. If there were also serpents in the trees, they weren’t a problem yet.
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And in those days, God said let there be dial-up modems, and he yelled down the hallway at his wife to get off the line so He could fire up the AOL connection, see if He had any mail, and check up on Motorcycle Online when we were two years old. Phone home, Andy Saunders, where are you? 

And in those days, it was all about the heavy cruisers, and the heavier the better – which the manufacturers assured us would inherit the earth. In truth, most of them were either driven from the temple, or transmogrified into something like Suzuki’s current M109R BOSS, which is more sportbike than chromeboy cruiser, and packs an even bigger, 1783cc V-twin.
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