A Love Letter To My Bea - 1983 Honda CX400 Custom

There’s a certain kind of satisfaction that comes from straddling a machine like my Bea, not a person, sorry, but my daily ride motorcycle, a 1983 Honda CX400 Custom. Named it after Bea Alonzo, the actress, who I find very beautiful and classy looking. It's not the type of satisfaction that you get from the latest hyper-engineered crotch rockets with their aggressively designed plastics, with more electronics than a NASA space shuttle. No, this is a different kind of satisfaction—one that’s earned, a satisfaction that emerges and rumbles from deep within the soul, like the low, guttural growl of that transverse, carbureted, Moto-Guzzi style - 400cc V-twin engine.

Let’s get one thing straight: this bike isn’t trying to be something it’s not. It’s not here to impress you with breakneck speeds or tear through corners like an over-caffeinated squirrel. It’s all about balance—predictable handling and road manners that make you trust it implicitly, like an old friend who’s never let you down. The wide rear tire plants itself firmly on the road, giving you that perfect blend of grip and comfort. You lean into a turn, and it follows your lead, obedient and reliable, with the uncomplaining shaft drive that feels like it was crafted by the gods of dependability themselves - in this case, 80's Honda engineers.

Now, picture it: all black, from the front tire of the wide rear tire to the top of the relatively low seat. It’s a stealth machine, a phantom on wheels that doesn’t need to shout to make its presence known. Despite its understated appearance, it's a head-turner nonetheless, sparking interest with its aesthetics and its massive looking, uniquely designed engine. A friend once mentioned that I looked like an action star on it, and I can’t help but agree. There's something undeniably cinematic about the way my bike commands attention on the road. 

There’s something deeply satisfying about the way this bike sounds. The exhaust note isn’t the snarling bark of a modern V-twin or the high-pitched whine of a multi-cylinder sports bike. No, this one has a rumble, low and steady, a sound that gets into your bones. It’s not loud, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s the kind of sound that says, "I’m here, and I’m not in a hurry." It’s a sound that whispers of long rides on open roads, where the horizon is your only destination.

And here’s the kicker: this bike, this vintage piece of Honda engineering, according to many enthusiasts worldwide, is one of the most reliable machines ever made. Honda didn’t mess around when they built the CX400. They knew what they were doing, creating a bike that could be counted on, day after day, year after year. You could take it out for a spin, push it to the limits of its modest power, and it would just keep going. It’s the kind of bike you could ride across the country and back, and it wouldn’t skip a beat.

As my daily ride, Bea is more than just a weekend affair, for years, she has been my trusted companion for all things requiring motorized mobility. Whether I’m heading to meetings, making a quick run to the palengke, or picking up food from my favorite restos, she handles it all with grace, dignity and reliability. From the hustle of city streets to quieter roads, she’s always up to the task, proving that a vintage ride can still keep up with the demands of everyday life.

Riding Bea is more than just a way to get from point A to point B; for me, like Keanu, it's almost like a

drug-fix - a form of meditation, a zen-like state of mind where everything else fades away. The rhythm of the road, the hum of the engine, the wind rushing past and the world just becomes a blur, it all creates a space where I can truly be at peace and connect effortlessly with my soul. It's in these moments that ideas, thoughts flow freely, unburdened by the distractions of everyday life. The bike then becomes a tool for self-awareness, spiritual epiphanies and growth, a means to "plug-in", be one with my innermost myself - nurturing my "inner mojo", as I would sometime say... Sometimes, during trying times, I cry and scream behind my helmet, releasing, purging my pains, regrets and grievances, knowing that no one can hear or see me. It’s a practical, cathartic release, a reminder that on two wheels, I can leave everything behind, even if just for a little while. And often, some of my best ideas and inspirations, like this article, come up while riding, borne from the moments of lucidity and clarity, the mental state emerging from the simplicity of being alone with myself and my thoughts on the open road.

In a world where motorcycles have become more about flash and tech, my Bea - CX400, stands as a quintessential reminder of what the purity of riding is really about. It’s about connection—connection to the machine, to the road, to the experience, the sensation of being an integral part of the world. It’s about life, and feeling every nuance of it while on the ride, knowing that the bike beneath you is as solid as the asphalt you’re cruising over.

So, here’s to my lady, Bea - CX400 Custom. Here’s to the simplicity of a machine that doesn’t need to prove anything. To my all-black old lady, of classic styling, with the wide rear (tire) and seductive exhaust growl. Here’s to predictable, forgiving handling and good road manners, to reliability that never falters. Here’s to the ride. Time to GET LOST. Again. Bye for now.