I remember clearly the first time I saw a Honda CB750 Four. It was in August 1971, and I was fourteen years old. My parents had moved the family to a small market town in North Yorkshire, England. On the first morning after having taken residence in our new home, I went outside, out onto the lane, glanced down towards our nearest neighbour, and parked on their side stands at the front of the house was a pair of Honda Fours. I went to get a closer view. One bike was red, the other blue. Now, as somebody who was only used to being around British motorcycles, the sight of these Hondas filled me with admiration and excitement. The engine was, to me, a thing of beauty, as were the fabulous quartet of mufflers.
After a few minutes gazing at the machines, my reverie was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. The lucky owners were returning to the bikes. Of course, I had to stay to watch, and listen, as they started up and rode off. I was utterly amazed as, with a push of a button, the engines burst into life. Contrast that with the mighty kick needed to awake a British bike! Then, as they moved off, the smooth thrilling sound of the engine, accompanied by a lovely turbine-like whine from the transmission. As the Hondas glided away, a handful of throttle, and rapidly rising revs, produced a spine tingling wail from the exhausts. I later learned that our neighbour, who owned the red one of these two 750/ Fours, had a job as a welder at an engineering company located about two miles away. He used to work night shifts, and I often heard him set off for work on his bike. I could hear that Honda singing its full-throttle song several minutes after he left, as the bike and rider got clear of local traffic, and began the long uphill blast out of town.
I have no doubt that my passion for motorcycles, and deep admiration for Japanese engineering, was ignited that morning in 1971 when I first saw and heard a Honda 750 Four. .