The Bad – 2004 Yamaha FRJ1300 – Approximately $14K
Payload – All standard, no farkles
Before I get into this review, I will say up front that this is not a fair comparison. This was a 2004 rental that had recently returned from a highway tour of Canada. The result of that tour was a set of Metzlers with a severely flat tire center surface on both front and rear. The other models I rode were 2007 or newer and in perfect condition. That said, I rode it, and I’ll give it an honest appraisal.
Looks: The test bike was Blue. I don’t know what fancy name they had for it, but it was blue. It was a really nice blue, the color of the eastern sky just after sunset when you can see the stars coming into existence.
This is a very smart looking bike. Every line extends from the front to infinity. They even added a little crimp in the hard bag for the purpose of continuing the line under the seat. While I’m not a huge fan of the fins on the side plastics, they make sense when you look at the top and bottom of the seat, and realize the fins were added for the purpose of creating lines. It seemed evident to me that the designer had symmetry in mind when doodling around in AutoCAD, and from a buyer’s perspective, it paid off. This bike looks like one I want to show my friends and family, and I got compliments from strangers telling me how nice a bike it was. That was pretty compelling.
Ergonomics:
This bike was the best fit for me. It was low enough that I didn’t feel like I was stretching to get my feet flat on the ground but high enough that I never felt cramped. The seating position was upright and standard. While there is nothing great about the seat, it was reasonably comfortable and I felt like I could stay on it for many hours before needing a break. There was not much potential to move around on the seat anyway, because if I tried to scoot back a little, the slope of the passenger seat scooted me back forward. The bike wants you to be in one position, and there you stay.
All of the controls were exactly where I expected and wanted them to be. The only extra gizmo was the rocker switch for the electronic windshield. It took no time at all to get comfy in the cockpit. The handlebars were at a good height to allow my arms to relax, and in general I’d say this was the best riding position for me.
I don’t know if this was the lightest bike of the group, but it sure felt like it. Moving it around the driveway was a cinch, and I never felt the threat of stop-sign-topple. One serious drawback of lock-to-lock turning on this bike is the edge of the windshield. While turning the wheel all the way to the left to back out of a parking spot, I smashed the pointer and middle fingers of my right hand between the edge of the windshield and the front brake. I let go a stream of expletives that would burn Samuel L. Jackson’s ears. Who makes a motorcycle with so little clearance between these parts?! (Answer: Yamaha.)
The clutch lever was very odd, and uncomfortable. The metal was exceptionally narrow from front to back, and I felt like the edge of it was digging into my fingers every time I reached for the clutch. I tried adjusting my wrist position a few times, but I couldn’t find a place where the clutch felt natural.
The hard bags are pretty crap; sad because they look pretty sharp! Unlike the BMW's soft-release side covers, the hard bags on the FJR fall violently open as soon as you lift the release handle, dumping all your stuff on the ground and banging against the exhaust.
Comfort:
When I started thinking toward this bike, my research found rumors that this bike ran hot, but the rumors were completely wrong. This bike does not run hot, as that is an inadequate description of the heat generated by this machine. In order to appreciate how hot this bike is, you need to start with picture words like “magma” and “Hindenburg.” Only then does it begin to come into focus.
When I first felt the bike start heating up on the county roads leading toward the Turnpike, I thought it was a combination of high RPM and low MPH. I thought for certain it would cool down once I got on the highway and got some serious airflow over the engine. Believe it or not, the highway just made it worse. After only a few miles on the NJ Turnpike, I was sweating profusely despite my mesh jacket. For the first time, I had to open my visor at highway speed because the heat was intolerable, and I didn’t care if the visor broke off. By the time I arrived in Metuchen (about 45 minutes), my crotch had completely melted, and from my zipper to my knees, the inner thighs of my pants were soaked like I’d peed myself. This was unfortunate, because I was in Metuchen to pick up the BMW K1200, and I had to walk into the dealer with my pee-pee pants and ask them for the keys to their $20K bike. Embarrassing? Yeah. Anyway, I rode the BMW for an hour, and when I came back, the FRJ1300 was STILL glowing hot, and all the heat from the engine had collected at the gas tank. When I sat back down on the FJR, my immediate and overwhelming thought was “I cannot own this bike.” On this particular day in New Jersey, it was 75 degrees and sunny with a 5-10 mph breeze, and low humidity. On a TYPICAL day in New Jersey (95 degrees, 90% humidity), I have no doubt that the FJR1300 would have killed me. It could not be ridden in those conditions. I am not joking when I say that on the way home from Metuchen, I thought my leg was resting on the exhaust pipe because my leg was burning. I literally had to look because I was afraid my pantleg was on fire. It was that hot.
The foot pegs were the only source of vibration. I had on thick soled riding boots so it was bearable, but I’m sure it’d be annoying in sneakers or flip flops or whatever the kids are wearing these days. I tried to convince myself it was like a sport touring foot massage, but ultimately it had the effect of numbing the bottoms of my feet.
The windshield had a slight curl at the top that was good and bad at the same time. It was good because it funneled much needed volumes of air into my helmet in the “down” position. It was bad because in the “up” position, it distorted the road ahead like those mirrors in a Fun House. I never really found a happy place for the windshield, much as I fiddled with it. If I wasn’t getting wind directly in the face, my head was bobbling like Jay Leno. If I tried to fix that problem, I got buffeting around the sides that felt like someone was using my ribs for boxing practice.
On the bright side, the FJR has THE BEST headlight arrangement I have ever seen. The lowbeams lit up the road in a way I didn't think possible on a motorcycle, and the highbeams were like stadium lighting. I wish every bike had lamps like this. When I pulled in my driveway at the end of the night, I sat there for a minute flicking the switch from high to low beam, and just marveled at the sheer volume of light that was pouring out of the front of this bike.
Performance:
This engine behaved much better for me than the BMW. It was much smoother through the gears and had a good “feel” to the throttle. Blipping the throttle produced modest acceleration, and I never felt like the front wheel wanted to leave the ground. The bike was plenty fast, though, and had no trouble getting into the triple digits. It definitely felt hampered by the 5-speed transmission, though, and more than once I tried to upshift to a higher gear that simply didn’t exist.
Handling:
There is a letter grade below F; it’s FJR. At every opportunity, this bike undermined my confidence in its ability to do anything except go straight and fast. Part of this I attribute to the misshapen tires, and part of it I attribute to vehicular demon possession ala Christine. When I first put the bike into a corner, it immediately tried to stand back up straight. This scared the living crap out of me because I was going hot up an onramp, couldn’t hold the line I wanted, and was clenching as I prepared to hit the sandy crud that piles up on the shoulder. It only got worse from there. I was not at one with the FRJ1300 – I was at WAR with the FJR1300. Going into any turn, I had to counter-steer so hard that it was more like wrestling than riding, and was zero fun. By the end of the night, I was so shaken by the terrible handling that I practically wanted to get off and walk the bike around any curvy parts and only get back on when the road was straight and flat. Low speed, high speed, any anywhere in between, it was nothing but disappointment.