The story of how I came to own this beautiful Gen 5 is sad, touching, and joyful all at the same time. Stick with it. Fall of '19, I was riding around on a warm, October afternoon and saw this bright yellow bike on a lawn not far from my house. I was pretty sure I recognized the machine as it's fairly unique. Bright yellow with a Corbin seat and color matching hard bags. "You know," I thought to myself. "That looks like Steve's bike. I wonder why he's selling it?" Not being in the market for another bike, I continued on with my ride. The next time I drove by that house, the bike was gone and I thought, "Great! Someone is gonna love that bike!" Flash forward to July '20 (now in the teeth of C-19), I'm out for another ride, and the VFR is back out on the lawn. This time, there's a woman trimming the grass out front so I pull in to ask about the bike. She says that her brother would be the best one to ask about it. At this point, I asked the woman, "Is that Steve's bike?" Her shoulders slump and a tear comes to her eye. "Yes, it was." Oh, shit. So the reason I know this bike is that I used to ride frequently with it's former owner. We shared hotel rooms, great meals, and amazing rides. I have fond memories of the tail end of that bike disappearing around corners in front of me. I was always on a POC and Steve would take full advantage and lose me in the curves. We'd fallen out of touch in the last few years so it came as somewhat of a shock when the woman, his sister, told me that he had died of brain cancer the previous year (April '19). He was diagnosed in January '19 and was dead three months later. Well, damn. OK, so that's the sad part. As soon as I realized that it was indeed my friend Steve's bike, I started to relay stories of how I knew him and that we'd ridden together many times. We laughed and joked about his sense of humor, his huge head, and his gentle, caring nature. Tears wiped away, we got down to business. I made what I thought was a fair offer and they accepted. They were, of course, very happy that it was going to someone who knew Steve and his love for this VFR. Two days later, I exchanged cash for a title and a set of keys. I pumped up the tires, checked the oil, and rode it home the long way. This wonderful machine, nicknamed "Buttercup" (BTRCUP on the vanity plate), now has a permanent place in my garage. It's from the old joke about holding a buttercup flower under your chin to see if you like butter. You hold Buttercup under your chin to see if you can ride. New tires, brakes, battery, fluids, chain and sprockets, etc. Basic maintenance items mostly. Tore it down and did a nook-and-cranny cleaning. Added a charge port and RAM mount to the front end. I'm also considering mounting a set of Denali D2 lights under the nose. There's already a carbon fiber rear hugger fender and Heli bars on the bike. Otherwise, it's pretty much stock. I have the stock seat and the rear passenger seat cover cowling. With just over 48k well-maintained miles on the clock, there's lots of miles left in it. I anticipate a long and happy life with this amazing machine.
Welcome to VFRW jpacman. Wow, what a tough time for Steve's sister, and you have bitter/sweet memories when riding Buttercup! Thanks for shairing. Nice photo, I do like the bags.
