Jay Leno's Garage

You know, when you look at certain vehicles, knowing nothing about them, you can just tell their country of origin. When you look at a Mercedes-Benz, it looks German. There's something about a Citroën or a Renault--they just look French. And when you see a 1200-pound motorcycle with a big V8 engine, it can be from only one country: the good old U.S. of A.

America has a surplus of V8s; we have more of them than we know what to do with. In other countries, a four-cylinder is sufficient, a six is a big deal. But a V8 is American power. When Ferrari first got a V8, the hot-rod guys said, "A Ferrari with a V8? You mean a Camaro?" So, since we have so many V8s, why not put them to good use, like sticking them in motorcycles?

And that's what the folks at Boss Hoss have done. This is the American entrepreneurial spirit. Monte Warne, the guy who started Boss Hoss, was a crop-duster and an aircraft mechanic. He came up with an idea--building V8-powered motorcycles--in 1990 and turned it into a successful enterprise. He began with a small-block Chevy engine and has since gone large: My bike has a 502-hp, 502-cu.-in. big block. I tell people, "The 350's my wife's bike."

The guys at Boss Hoss didn't invent this idea. Aviation and automotive pioneer Glenn Curtiss did it first, back in 1907. And remember that 1950s black-and-white picture of the enormous road hog? You know, the fat guy wearing a motorcycle cap, going down the road. There's just something so genuinely American about it.

Surprisingly, as big and heavy as it is, the Boss Hoss seems to work quite well. The sitting position is actually quite comfortable. From an engineering point of view, it's extremely well thought out. It doesn't overheat. It stops fine. It's not in the least bit dangerous. It doesn't vibrate, things don't crack or break off; it's really quite road-worthy. The weight is down fairly low so it handles much better than it has any right to. I've used this analogy before, but it's like square-dancing with a fat lady. The fact that she does it at all is astounding. People say, "Look at that. It's unbelievable!"

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.