Guzzi. Moto Guzzi.

Finally most of the ice and snow is gone from my driveway and street. The main roads have been clear enough to ride for some time, but getting in and out of the neighborhood would have been... interesting. Today, finally, my "new to me" Guzzi enjoys some road time. I let my son take my car today because his is in the shop. So, if I wanted to get to work, I had to ride anyway. Gosh... twisty my arm.

Last night I took a few minutes to get the Guzzi ready for the morning ride in to work, which included moving some things around in the driveway and in the garage. I went to fire the Guzzi up, pushed the starter button and ... click, then nothing. Dead to the world. No power, no lights, no nothing. Great...

Start with the basics... I pulled the battery cover and found a bunch of fuzzy corrosion on the battery terminals. I pulled all that apart and cleaned everything up, including wire-brushing the terminals, cable ends and hardware. I put it all back together, shot some WD-40 in and around the connectors, reinstalled the cover and fired up the bike.

crank, crank, chugga, chugga, vroom, vroom. Music. I will never understand the people who think Harleys sound good... especially when compared to a Guzzi. Harleys always sound like they're about to stall out and are barely hanging on to life at idle. This thing just sounds... intense.

I let the Guzzi just sit there and idle a few minutes while I reprogrammed the clock and got myself familiarized with using the onboard computer, all the while enjoying the mechanical music the Guzzi offers. Finally, when I was all done, I reluctantly shut the bike down, closed up the garage and headed inside for the night.

This morning I opened up the garage, geared up and rolled the bike outside and mounted up. According to the Guzzi's on-board thermometer, the temperature was just about 32 degrees. I was geared up in my Transition II jacket, Mercury pants, Windtex gloves and EXO-400 helmet. Very comfy. It was time to get going. I clunked it into 1st gear, eased out the clutch and was on my way.

This is the second time riding this bike. The first was a couple of hundred miles North on I-95 after picking the bike up in Daytona Beach, Florida. Somewhere in South Carolina I put it on the trailer for the rest of the drive home. So, I'm still learning the bike.

I headed out onto the main roads, nice and gentle, and continued on my way to US Rt. 1. Cold tires, cold asphalt covered with dried salt, the occasional moist areas that may or may not be iced over... yeah, I was riding like a sissy. I'm OK with that... this bike is beautiful and I'm not looking to rash it up any time soon because of silly impatience.

Once out on Rt. 1, I opened it up a little. By then the engine was up to temp, the tires should have been at "normal" operating temps given the conditions, so I played with the throttle a little bit. Yeah. This thing is fun.

Now let's be clear... The Goose won't win any races against truly "fast" machines, but it pulls very nicely and all the way through the rev range. It will get you to extra-legal speeds quickly enough. But who cares...? Spirited as it may be, this bike isn't about speed. Riding this thing takes me right back to the 80s during my muscle car days. The sound and the feel of this bike are very, very reminiscent of the mid-70s Chevies I used to build. A politely-raucous engine in a fairly well refined chassis. This thing is absolutely the small block Chevy of the bike world. And that's a very good thing.

The muscle car comparison continues as you run through the gears and apply varying levels of throttle. The engine is never Caprice-smooth but, rather, is always Chevelle-present. You know it's there, you know it's working and you know it's yawning, just waiting for you to demand more of it. Like its V8 brethren, it's got a fairly low rev limit - I've got the shift like programmed to come on at 7900 RPM - but the 6-speed gear box gives you a cog for every occasion.

When you open up the throttle and the engine winds up - which it does in every gear due to the "all the torque, all the time" nature of the mill - the engine's mechanicals, the intake and exhaust sounds and the general feel of the lump all join together to emit... joy. Just pure, road-loving, wind-feeling, throaty-wail joy.

I can't think of too many cars these days that would give you that same visceral, mechanical, raw feeling of power that a lumpy, cammed-out V8 of yesteryear would offer. So you young guys who've only ever driven buzzy 4-cylinder cars... I can't really help you understand. Sorry.

But this bike offers something more, too. It offers a well-handling chassis, good brakes, neutral and comfortable ergonomics and some kick ass style that - sorry folks - Japanese sport bikes simply don't offer. They make some pretty bikes, to be sure. But rarely are they stylish.

I continued my trip in to work, sticking to the biggest, clearest main roads. Normally I'd be impatient to take the bike down Rt. 82 - Delaware's only twisty road - during my morning commute, but I have to believe there are lots of icy, wet and washed-out places on that road yet. I can wait. Besides, I still haven't dialed in suspension settings and I'm still trusting the air pressure the dealer set when I picked up the bike. No... no, I can wait.

Nice and easy... just a mellow ride to work on a machine that puts character and style one notch higher on the importance scale than flat out, track-style performance. Track-capable bikes are a dime a dozen. How many of them are truly wonderful to ride on regular roads...?

What a nice machine.