At first glance, the 1984 Honda VF1000R and 2010 Aprilia RSV4 R have sod-all in common. Look again. They both represent the ultimate street-legal expression of the V-four race-replica art for their time. Muscular in appearance, powerful, about as subtle as a smack in the head, and both making a huge corporate statement. When the Honda was built, the brand was well on its way to becoming arguably the dominant force in four-stroke road racing worldwide. And, today, the Aprilia (with rider Max Biaggi) is leading the Superbike World Championship.
So have we really seen progress over the intervening period? To give any sort of halfway sensible answer, you have to think back to 1983.This was the seminal year in post-war V-four four-stroke history. Honda launched two phenomenally influential motorcycles: the RS850R F1 racer and the VF750F road machine.
The RS brought together three key technologies: liquid-cooling, the 90-degree V-four layout and ProLink rear suspension. It worked. Honda that year won the world F1 title with Joey Dunlop in the saddle, the British title with Wayne Gardner at the controls, and that year’s Isle of Man F1 event, again with Dunlop doing the honours. The latter victory was celebrated with the now famous V-Four Victory documentary, which is still available on DVD. In fact, that doco indoctrinated a whole generation of folk (me included) on the hair-raising thrills that the infamous isle has to offer.
(Now here’s a little techno aside – when V-Four Victory was first produced, it was only available on video tape, as DVDs were not yet available…)
That same year, Honda released the VF750F, its second 750-class V-four road bike and the first with serious sporting pretensions. At the time, 750 seemed like an odd choice of capacity, when race rules generally allowed up to 1000cc, but Honda was to have the last laugh as the bike went on to win a string of national races and championships across the world.
THE BIG LEAGUE
Of course brand H couldn’t resist the temptation to produce a bigger version of its V-series star. This was a time when ‘real men’ demanded litre-plus road bikes, and they were largely satisfied with the 1984 introduction of the VF1000F. But if you were cashed up and had to have the best, you bought a VF1000R.
Now this was the business end of the showroom. Under the shiny engine covers was a sky-high (for the time) 11:1 compression ratio (the Aprilia has 13:1), plus an exotic gear cam-drive system in place of the 750F and 1000F chain, It was later to see service in the VFR and jewel-like RC30 series.
While the box-section steel frame was a doubtful choice, the thick 41mm front forks were something special, particularly with the quick-release axle clamps, as was the overall endurance racing wrapper.
Honda’s ad copy for the time makes a clear competition connection: “When we decided to build a bike that exploits our racing technology to the fullest, we had to make a few concessions to the demands of society.
“We had to bolt on a licence plate holder, for one thing. And a couple of mirrors.”
Some 26 years later, Aprilia says of its performance star: “RSV4 R was born from the desire to offer the design and performance supremacy of Max Biaggi’s bike to the public.” There seems to be an echo in here…
However the two machines had slightly disparate rankings in the corporate pecking order. The Aprilia RSV4 is the el-primo range and centre of factory attention, based as it is on the superbike racer. However the VF1000R held a somewhat different position. While it was the showroom flagship, and it was raced with mixed results, the real corporate focus was on making winners out of the more nimble 750s.
The world markets at the time, too, were notably different. In 2010 we’re experiencing a sales decline but otherwise there’s a fairly stable and almost predictable flow of new models. In 1984, sales were peaking (soon to plummet), and there was a dizzying array of new releases trying all sorts of technology upgrades, including turbos, mass introduction of liquid cooling, experiments with fuel injection, different wheels sizes, anti-dive systems – you name it.
IN THE RAW
Much of the story of these two motorcycles can be found by scanning their raw numbers. The Honda comes in at a hefty 238kg dry (actually a modest figure for a big-bore road bike of the day) while the Priller tiptoes in at a claimed 184. The difference equates to a slight pillion passenger.
Power? Well, it depends on whose numbers you believe – no change there! The VF claimed 125 to 130 horses, while the Italian goes closer to 180. In reality, the rear wheel figures are going to be down substantially, with independent results showing more like 95-100 for the Honda and 160 for the Aprilia at their respective back tyres.
The gap is less dramatic when you look at top speeds, with the older machine scoring a measured 240km/h and the new boy 285. It gets much, much closer when you look at quarter mile times: an impressive 10.88 at 200km/h terminal speed for the old chap and 10.06 at 230km/h for its latter-day rival.
Keep in mind the performance numbers are subject to different test conditions many years apart, and so deserve a little leeway. They do nevertheless show that, while the 1980s might seem like the Stone Age to some of you, people were building some seriously quick machinery.
IN THE FLESH
Run an appreciative hand or eye over the Honda and you can’t help but be impressed with how a well-loved example has stood the test of time. The factory, even then, understood that if you were paying big dollars (it cost $4000 when a Kawasaki GPz900R retailed for $3300), you expected some niceties.
Staring back at the rider is an impressive three-dial dash, nice substantial adjusters atop the forks, a big row of warning lamps and the general feeling you have just climbed into something that is both substantial and special. It ticks the boxes when it comes to making the owner feel good about their decision.
The Aprilia lives at a time when standards of finish have gradually risen, but the decisions are influenced far more by the weight-saving imperative. So you’ll come across a far less substantial dash – digital except for the tacho – that offers a far greater range of information.
While even more effort has gone into the shaping of the beast, the actual materials feel lighter and, dare I say, more flimsy – all for the race-weight cause.
While the engine on the Honda is carefully finished in black enamel, despite being mostly hidden behind a fairing, the Priller shouts its build-it-and-race-it heritage with surprisingly rough cast engine cases. Knowing collectors, they’ll probably look back fondly on this one as ‘the sand-cast model’.
They’re both purposeful, but you can’t help feeling (wrongly) the VF comes from a more gentlemanly era.
What you won’t find on the older bike though is an engine mode switch. “A what?” would have been the rider’s response in the eighties. The idea of having three rider-switchable electronic control unit modes just wasn’t on the motorcycle horizon in 1984 – in fact, we were still a few years away from the launch of any major rider electronic aids, including ABS.
Cast a beady eye over the chassis and you quickly realise the VF is very much a child of its era. To modern eyes, the odd-couple match of 16-inch front wheel and 17-inch rear is just weird. Meanwhile the 120-width front tyre seems familiar, but the 140 looks much too skinny compared to the near-universal 190 stuck to the Italian.
Squint and you could be forgiven for seeing both front brake set-ups as much the same, but the modern Brembo monoblocs and their giant discs look far more substantial, despite all the efforts to save weight. Much the same goes for the forks, 41mm on the old and 47 on the current, with the latter tipped upside down – there’s a lot more ‘beef’ in play, suggesting the newer machine is designed for a more violent life.
And what were they thinking with those spindly-looking frame tubes on the Honda? They looked alright at the time, but these days you’d be laughed out of the showroom.
IN THE SADDLE
I could be utterly brutal here and summarise this in one sentence: on a track, the VF wouldn’t see which way the RSV4 went. Now before you start writing angry emails at the Ed, I’ll hastily add that doesn’t tell anything like the whole story.
For a start, my kids have an early eighties Honda 250 that’s about the same size as the Aprilia (and probably has less horsepower than its starter motor – but let’s not get sidetracked). Performance motorcycles have shrunk. I remember reading 1980s road tests from angry midgets who whined about how they barely managed to board the rotten thing. Now I’m the one struggling to pack assorted limbs whose length and location clearly wasn’t in the brief of the motorcycle designer.
This is great for dedicated track hounds who are under the old six-foot mark in height and is part of the whole trend of specialisation we’ve seen over the years. When VF1000Rs roamed the earth, dedicated sports bikes as we now know them were relatively rare. Ducati had a couple, and the GSX-R750 of 1985 really set the trend for the Japanese makers, but really the majority of road models were expected to fulfil a couple of functions. Now a multi-purpose motorcycle is itself a niche market.
So despite the VF1000R’s market position as a performance flagship of its day, it is bigger and more road-friendly than the RSV4 R. Today, we’d regard the set-up as a reasonably lively sports tourer.
The folk at Mid Life Cycles in Cremorne (Vic), who own the lovely Honda you see here, were game enough to sling us the keys, but we weren’t heartless enough to thrash the thing. As luck would have it, I got to ride one when they were new and the most recent spin brought back some wonderful memories.
What you got in the mid-eighties with this bike was serious straight-line grunt, better than average suspension and brakes, reasonable steering and handling (it was always a fairly heavy thing to fling around) and the warm inner glow from riding something that you knew bugger all other folk would get to taste. Yep, it appealed to the base instincts: dangerous thrills and that guilt rush you get from nabbing something special.
Today, if you could bear the thought of wearing out a classic, it still stacks up as a decent mount. There are worse-handling machines out there (albeit in a different class), while the performance still stacks up. Braking is acceptable, while the ride position is mild enough to seriously consider for a long solo trip over the horizon.
The real treat is the engine noise and power delivery. It has the mini-V-eight cadence typical of this engine layout, with a real mechanical growl that’s distinctive in this engine. And it delivers. The urge is strong almost regardless of revs, something that was carried over so well to the VFR750 a couple of years later.
Over in the Italian camp the experience is very, very different. This machine has a much angrier tone – snapping and snarling as you wake it up. Typical of more modern engines, it spins up off the throttle far more quickly and gives fair warning of what the rest of the machine is going to be like.
Where you expect to have a bit of a friendly wrestle with the old Honda, riding the Aprilia with any pace is more an exercise in precision lion-taming. Too much stick and it’ll bite, too little and it’ll do pretty much what it damn well feels like.
Use the same level of persuasion to corner the RSV4 R as you do the VF1000R and you feel like you’re on the verge of turning it inside-out. Same goes for braking. The new chap rewards a light and precise hand with hit-the-wall deceleration, ultra-rapid turn-in, very precise line and the ability to leap out of the corner at ballistic pace once you light the wick. Suspension? We really are talking different eras, with a lot more control in the modern kit.
With the ’84 Honda, cornering is more of a conversation – it’s happy to oblige, but mind how you go. It’s almost the difference between playing tennis and a video game. (Which is an unfortunate pair of metaphors, as I’m not much good at either…)
TEST OF TIME
Honda’s VF1000R has stood the test of time admirably. It’s held its relative value over a quarter of a century and will probably continue to rise. You could say that about a lot of premium classic motorcycles, but what makes machines like this stand out is they’re still a respectable and reliable ride.
Will the Aprilia be able to say the same in, say, 2036? I suspect so.
But let’s get back to the core question of how far we have come in 26 years. Much is going to depend on how you want to measure the progress. Lap times? Unquestionably, the difference is huge. The Priller is going to be right at home down at Phillip Island, while the VF would end up floundering.
On the road? Give me the new bike on your favourite set of corners, thanks, but the old machine if corners are just a small part of a much bigger (and more boring) mix.
Reliability? Ignoring for a moment the cam troubles other models of the early V-four Hondas suffered, I don’t think there’s a lot of difference.
Quality of construction? Materials and the ability to get more performance from less is by far the greatest chasm between the two eras. Much of the Aprilia’s beauty comes from what has been extracted from such a tiny package. And that’s happened because the sports bike world has become a narrower, more clearly-defined, performance per gram category that worships solely at the racing altar.
Consequently these machines are two very, very, different animals to ride, and in that respect a lot has happened in a quarter of a century. The mission has become more focussed and the bikes have adapted to that changing environment. Very Darwinian…
HOW DO THE SPECIFICATIONS STACK UP?
1984 Honda VF1000R
ENGINE
Type: Liquid-cooled 90 degree V-four with four valves per cylinder
Bore and Stroke: 77 x 53.6mm
Displacement: 998cc
Compression ratio: 11:1
Fuel system: 36mm CV carbs
Rider aids: nil
TRANSMISSION
Type: 5-speed constant mesh
Final drive: chain
CHASSIS & RUNNING GEAR
Frame type: Twin-loop box-section steel
Front suspension: Conventional 41mm adjustable fork with anti-dive
Rear suspension: Monoshock, air preload & hydraulic rebound damping adjustment
Front brakes: 4-piston 285mm twin discs
Rear brake: 2-piston, 285mm disc
DIMENSIONS & CAPACITIES
Dry weight: 238kg
Seat height: 822mm
Fuel capacity: 18.5lt
PERFORMANCE
Max power: 130hp @ 10,500rpm
Max torque: 92Nm @ 8000rpm
OTHER STUFF
Price: $4000 plus ORC
ITS BEST FEATURES
Exclusive
Fast
Well finished
LESS IMPRESSIVE
Big & heavy
2010 Aprilia RSV4 R
ENGINE
Type: Liquid-cooled 65-degree V-twin with four valves per cylinder
Bore and Stroke: 78 x 52.3mm
Displacement: 996.6cc
Compression ratio: 13:1
Fuel system: Electronic injection with 48mm throttle bodies
Rider aids: 3-mode ECU adjustment
TRANSMISSION
Type: 6-speed constant mesh
Final drive: chain
CHASSIS & RUNNING GEAR
Frame type: Dual beam alloy
Front suspension: USD 47mm fork, full adjustment
Rear suspension: Monoshock, full adjustment
Front brakes: 4-piston radial monobloc 320mm twin discs
Rear brake: 2-piston, 220mm disc
DIMENSIONS & CAPACITIES
Dry weight: 184kg
Seat height: 845mm
Fuel capacity: 17lt
PERFORMANCE
Max power: 180hp @ 12,500rpm
Max torque: 115Nm @ 10,000
OTHER STUFF
Price: $23,990 plus ORC
Test bike supplied by: Aprilia
Warranty: 24 months/unlimited km
ITS BEST FEATURES
Small and ultra sharp
Very quick
Tactile engine
LESS IMPRESSIVE
You must pay attention
No ABS