Kawasaki VN1700 Vaquero

Love ’em or hate em, you have to admire the single focus of a cruiser bike. Buy a streetfighter and a set of knee-sliders, and that stunt bike turns into a track missile. Buy a superbike and a backpack, and you’ve got a ballistic tourer that’ll also set lap records. Likewise, buy an adventure bike and a GPS unit and you have the world between your legs.

But by buying a cruiser, you’ve drawn a line in the sand. There’s no stunting, no tracking, no traffic dodging and no lap records. Short of deciding how best to avoid looking like an audition for one of the Village People while riding the beast, that’s your lot.

So how do you make a one-trick pony more fun? In this case, you just add a radio. By adding a soundtrack to the adventure, the transition to single focus rider becomes easier to understand.

And the weather helps, too. I picked the Vaquero (which means cowboy in Spanish – or Randy Jones in Village People speak) on a 35-degree day. Now being from the UK, where 35-degree days are talked about for generations, I’m used to wearing a full-face helmet, armoured jacket and gloves at a minimum. But on a cruiser? In this heat? You crazy, maaaan…

So here I am, open-faced and t-shirt protected, on the huge piece of matt black real estate that is the Kawi Cowboy. And you know what, it’s working. The thought of being leathered-up on a superbike now is up there with getting next year’s income tax return in early. Besides, I really like this song…

But although the radio (and incorporated MP3 player, though you’ll need to buy a connection lead from Kawasaki) works well in making this mile-muncher more involving, it’s not the only trick up the bike’s chrome sleeve.

From coffee machines to rat rods, adding a splash of matt black paint to a product is as ‘now’ as tattoo-sleeves on an NRL fullback. The Kawasaki wears its paint moody and proud, the colour helping to shrink (slightly) the huge dimensions of the near-400kg bike. It’s still never going to win a hide-and-seek game, though.

And that paint extends to the items that define this biking gene – the ‘bags’ (or hard panniers, to you and me). This bagger wears its load-luggers firm, strong and fashionably. It’s just a pity that neither can store a helmet – either full- or open-faced), though you’d be able to store a folded Stetson in either…

From the cockpit, the view ahead is dominated by the four-dial dash. It’s an impression array of circles, comic-style numerals, colours and needles, and has a great ’70s feel to it. Well, it would do if there wasn’t a digital panel in the middle. Luckily, the facia of the radio looks in keeping with the analogue dials.

To match the impressive dash, both black switchgears have more buttons that I’ve had hot dinners this week. The left side controls the radio’s functions, while the right concentrates on dash functions and the standard bike’s cruise control.

With a claimed 70hp, a 6000rpm redline and tipping the scales at 383kg, the performance is more ‘steady as she goes’ than any mounting excitement (incidentally, that was Kawasaki’s tagline from the ’80s). Basically, if you’ve ever ridden a cruiser at any point in your life, then you’ve already ridden the Vaquero. And that’s no bad thing.

As roads get more crowded and speeding fines more punitive, the world seems to be coming around to the performance, or lack of it, that bikes like this offer. Whether that defeats the object of a bike in the first place is a hot and ever heating debate, made hotter by the heat emanating from the 1700’s silver cylinder fins. Even over just a two-week test period, there was times when I drove my van rather than ride the Vaquero because, on those baking hot days, being stuck in traffic out in the open with just a t-shirt on isn’t fun. It’s plain hurty! And there’s no escape once trapped by the tin-tops, there’s absolutely no filtering on this behemoth.

But get out onto the open road and the ride flows. On smooth tarmac, the ride’s pretty magic carpet like, with the big girl flowing and wallowing over dips and blips. The gearbox’s action is clunky but positive, while the hydraulic clutch is smooth and precise, sending those horses down the output shaft and to the belt-drive rear.

Above all those shenanigans, you relax into the journey, arms rising to meet the pulled back chrome bars, while rubber-topped footboards comfort your soles (unless you’re slightly leant over, then they’re trying to grind themselves to smithereens at a ridiculously small lean angles). The front saddle is firm and supportive. The back seat not so…

But let’s get real here. You’ll buy the $24,499 Kawasaki Vaquero because you fall for the style of the bike. Full stop. You’ll not expect ripping performance, extreme lean angles or even picking it up on your own if it goes down. Like they say on the adverts, it does exactly what is says on the tin. And absolutely no more.

>Kawasaki VN1700 Vaquero in Bike Showroom

PERFORMANCE
Claimed maximum power: 73.4hp (54kW) at 5000rpm
Claimed maximum torque: 136Nm at 2750rpm

TRANSMISSION
Type: Six speed
Final drive: Belt
Clutch: Wet

CHASSIS AND RUNNING GEAR
Frame: Doubled-cradle, high-tensile steel
Front suspension: 45mm fork, non-adjustable, 140mm travel
Rear suspension: Twin air-assisted shocks adjustable for preload, 80mm travel
Front brakes: Dual 300mm discs with four-piston calipers, ABS
Rear brake: 300mm disc with twin-piston caliper, ABS
Tyres: 130/90-16 front, 170/70-16 rear

DIMENSIONS AND CAPACITIES
Rake: 30 degrees
Trail: 177mm
Claimed kerb weight: 383kg
Seat height: 730mm
Ground clearance: 145mm
Wheelbase: 1665mm
Fuel capacity: 20 litres

OTHER STUFF
Price: $24,499
Colour: Matt Black
Test bike supplied by: Kawasaki Australia, www.kawasaki.com.au
Warranty: 24 months, unlimited kilometres