The vehicles I especially enjoy are the ones that amaze people by simply showing up. And the Boss Hoss is a classic example. When I think of Superman or Batman or Paul Bunyan, and when I try to imagine what their vehicles would be, I think of them just sitting on an engine. And that's what it's like on the Boss Hoss. You literally sit on the engine. In a Camaro or a Corvette, you sit behind the engine. In a hot rod, you sit real close to the engine. But with the Boss Hoss, you're sitting right on the engine. It's every guy's fantasy. Just get the engine, then sit on it, attach a couple of wheels and go. Transportation really doesn't get any more personal than this. It may sound a little pornographic, but you do feel it pulsating between your legs.
My Boss Hoss has 567 lb.-ft. of torque--that's about 100 lb.-ft. more than the new Corvette ZO6. And it spoils you. You just turn the throttle, and the mighty hand of God pushes you down the road. If you're on a Japanese superbike, you let the clutch out and eeerrriiinng, you're off--but you feel that engine working all the time. With this thing, you slowly roll on the throttle and it's like sitting on the trunk of an elephant; it slowly lifts you up. It doesn't appear to move at all. It just lifts you up.
Another point: Think how long that motor will last. It's sooo understressed. And there's so much you can do with the Boss Hoss: You can ride it. Or you can use it to tow a mobile home. There's no end of things you can use it for.
Although it's big, the Boss Hoss feels not very different than a fully decked-out Honda Gold Wing. And when you already drive something like my huge, tank-engined car (see "Jay Leno's Garage," May 2004, page 68), it's the perfect companion piece. So now I have a motorcycle that's the two-wheeled equivalent of the tank car. This bike really is the ultimate example of that old hot-rodder's expression, "There's just no substitute for cubic inches."
The gearbox has two speeds. That's all you need. There's First, which takes you up to 100 mph if you want, and then you have an overdrive. Look, if you're racing against a Japanese hyperbike, you're probably not gonna win. But that's not the idea behind the Boss Hoss. It's a cruiser, pure and simple.
I always remember reading that when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Admiral Yamamoto supposedly said, "We have awakened the sleeping giant." Well, that's how this bike feels. Unless you're the greatest motorcycle rider in the world, you're probably not going to be able to use all its power. It keeps you interested because you can't tame it all.
When you ride the Boss Hoss, you always look as if you're on your way to fight crime. You're sitting atop this enormous two-wheeler that just shouts, "Here comes the Superhero! Da-da-da-da-daah!"
Harley owners cower in fear when they see this thing coming. Then they approach you cautiously--until they realize it's American. Heck, it's a Chevy; you can't get more American than that. Then it's sort of okay for the Harley guys. It's a bit like when the new guy walks into the saloon in the Old West, and he's got the big gun, way bigger than anybody else's. So I don't think you'll see a license plate frame on a Prius that says, "My other vehicle is a Boss Hoss."
Okay, does anyone need a big-block V8 motorcycle? Well, does anyone really need a big-screen TV? And does any woman need a Prada purse?
Motorcycling comes down to how the bike makes you feel when you ride it. And in a day and age of ultra-high-strung, 150-hp motorcycles that all look alike, the Boss Hoss doesn't look or feel like anything else that's out there.
But it looks sooo American.
