04-02-2018, 01:37 PM
As it turns out, I've been riding my CB1100 every day lately. Towards that end, I just went all out in polishing and waxing the tank and instrument cluster, removing scratches...and it actually worked. I was shocked.
I've only had one moment of brake squeal recently, from the front right brake. It didn't do it all day, or even all morning. Just the one time, and that was it. Otherwise, the squeal seems gone. Consistently gone.
Interestingly, my fuel mileage took a sudden leap. My last two tanks averaged 50 mpg and 57 mpg, and my rides were identical to the previous tank's sub-40 mpg result. Same roads, ridden in the same manner. The tank-before-last accepted 3.55 gallons at 176 miles, and my fuel bar had just started to blink. Today it accepted 1.7 gallons at 97 miles.
In terms of character, I'd say this one has as much character as anything I've ridden, other than maybe my GSX-R1000 and Street Triple R. Due to the engine feel, sound, and delivery combined with the chassis' rock-solid stability, I'd describe this CB1100's character as purposeful, resolute, competent, professional, polished, and very forgiving. Sure, she's very smooth, but I'm always aware of the engine's diesel-like core, its stout mechanical heart. It feels like a chainmail-bedecked anvil; dense, sturdy, elemental, with a finely textured finish.
Besides the brake squeal, which seems to be gone now, she's had zero mechanical hiccups. The idle has been perfect. The brakes are stupidly strong and accurate. The handling is almost unreasonably refined. For something with dual shocks, skinny tires, an old-fashioned steel cradle frame, and the sheer mass of a small Panzer, the CB1100 has no business being as light on her feet as she is.
For the most part, the excess heft is a non-issue. It really doesn't seem to have a particularly adverse effect on the handling. The brakes are so strong, so precise, they make it easy to drive hard and deep with her, just as one would with a lighter, more agile machine. Regardless of what she's asked, she never loses her poise. There are times, in fact, when the CB's billet-solidity is particularly satisfying, such as on the highway, or, well, heck, just about everywhere. It's such a reassuring feeling.
The only downside to the CB's weight that I can pinpoint has to do with its taxing effect on acceleration. Give her a big handful, and she doesn't punch her way out of a corner or off a stoplight with the urgency one would normally expect from an 1140cc I4. She moves out, to be sure, but she doesn't leap. Rather, she...proceeds. Give her enough of a goosing, and she'll giggle on down the road with sufficient urgency to let you know she's on the case, but never with such a degree of steam as to upset the apple cart.
Yes, I would welcome a bit stronger hit when I call for one, both down low and up on top. Count me among those who would appreciate another twenty-five ponies in the stable.
Anyway, I want to describe the CB1100 as a trusted, faithful servant, but I can't. That's not her character, at least not in the main. There's too much brawn, too much iron will, too much growling attitude. Alfred the Butler, she ain't.
I keep coming back to James Bond, the smooth, suave, bada** in a tux. I'm talking Sean Connery or Daniel Craig, not Pierce Brosnan.
I've only had one moment of brake squeal recently, from the front right brake. It didn't do it all day, or even all morning. Just the one time, and that was it. Otherwise, the squeal seems gone. Consistently gone.
Interestingly, my fuel mileage took a sudden leap. My last two tanks averaged 50 mpg and 57 mpg, and my rides were identical to the previous tank's sub-40 mpg result. Same roads, ridden in the same manner. The tank-before-last accepted 3.55 gallons at 176 miles, and my fuel bar had just started to blink. Today it accepted 1.7 gallons at 97 miles.
In terms of character, I'd say this one has as much character as anything I've ridden, other than maybe my GSX-R1000 and Street Triple R. Due to the engine feel, sound, and delivery combined with the chassis' rock-solid stability, I'd describe this CB1100's character as purposeful, resolute, competent, professional, polished, and very forgiving. Sure, she's very smooth, but I'm always aware of the engine's diesel-like core, its stout mechanical heart. It feels like a chainmail-bedecked anvil; dense, sturdy, elemental, with a finely textured finish.
Besides the brake squeal, which seems to be gone now, she's had zero mechanical hiccups. The idle has been perfect. The brakes are stupidly strong and accurate. The handling is almost unreasonably refined. For something with dual shocks, skinny tires, an old-fashioned steel cradle frame, and the sheer mass of a small Panzer, the CB1100 has no business being as light on her feet as she is.
For the most part, the excess heft is a non-issue. It really doesn't seem to have a particularly adverse effect on the handling. The brakes are so strong, so precise, they make it easy to drive hard and deep with her, just as one would with a lighter, more agile machine. Regardless of what she's asked, she never loses her poise. There are times, in fact, when the CB's billet-solidity is particularly satisfying, such as on the highway, or, well, heck, just about everywhere. It's such a reassuring feeling.
The only downside to the CB's weight that I can pinpoint has to do with its taxing effect on acceleration. Give her a big handful, and she doesn't punch her way out of a corner or off a stoplight with the urgency one would normally expect from an 1140cc I4. She moves out, to be sure, but she doesn't leap. Rather, she...proceeds. Give her enough of a goosing, and she'll giggle on down the road with sufficient urgency to let you know she's on the case, but never with such a degree of steam as to upset the apple cart.
Yes, I would welcome a bit stronger hit when I call for one, both down low and up on top. Count me among those who would appreciate another twenty-five ponies in the stable.
Anyway, I want to describe the CB1100 as a trusted, faithful servant, but I can't. That's not her character, at least not in the main. There's too much brawn, too much iron will, too much growling attitude. Alfred the Butler, she ain't.
I keep coming back to James Bond, the smooth, suave, bada** in a tux. I'm talking Sean Connery or Daniel Craig, not Pierce Brosnan.