Among the many joys of living in New Orleans, is the weather never stays cold for very long. Today, the early morning temperature was in the high forties and the roads perfectly dry…just right for an early morning, 90 mile romp on my 2006 Breva 750. Northern colleagues, you have my sympathy.
Of the 15 or so bikes I’ve owned over the last 40 years, the Breva is my favorite. My bike is mostly box stock. Its visually striking from the black, swoopy fiberglass tank and matching fenders to the bright chrome of the upswept mufflers. The engine is in the open for all to admire. In sum, bike’s appearance is all business… no pretense or frippery. My Breva garners envy from fellow riders and compliments at every gas stop.
The engine is quiet and smooth, shifting is positive, handling is easy, controls fall to hand without conscious thought, brakes are progressive and strong. The riding position and comfy seat seem custom designed to my 5’10” frame. A few months ago, a very experienced riding buddy took the bike for an hour or so jaunt in Ozark twisties. On return, he told of his ear to ear grin from start to finish, and insisted, when I was ready to sell, he get first refusal.
There are quibbles. The plastic tank necessitates the use of “no ethanol” gasoline which can be inconvenient. Some might lament engine develops only about 40 HP at the rear wheel. (On the road, the power is more than adequate to bring the bike promptly to lethal speeds.) I was stymied for some time by a (since replaced) faulty throttle position sensor. The paucity of Guzzi dealers requires many an owner to have the skill and will to perform routine maintenance. Fortunately, the bike is straight forward and this forum is an excellent source of knowledgeable help.
Increasingly when on the Guzzi, I reflect on what an amazing gift we each have been given to ride through life balanced on two wheels…to glide through sweepers as though on rails…and occasionally to scare ourselves just a bit, to be sure we’re still alive. My inner eight-year-old wants to shout “Hey, look at me! Look how neat this is!”
All this from a 12 year old, middle weight bike that never really sold very well – My all-time favorite.
