Details, meanwhile, are a clever interpretation of minimalist ‘bobber’ style presumably in a bid to keep overall costs as low as possible. So, there’s a single, fairly basic, LCD digital instrument pod mounted in a classic round ‘cup’, a single round headlamp plus ‘mean and moody’ blacked-out everything in the traditional bobber style. In fact, the only swathe of chrome you’ll find anywhere is on the fork stanchions.
Does it look good? Erm, sorta. For me, custom styling is a very personal thing and at first I wasn’t certain. It’s definitely not a Harley, that’s for sure. And, while Honda cheekily claimed the Rebel’s ‘industrial chic’ meant that, ‘if it was a city, it’d be Berlin’ I’d more humbly proffer Sheffield or Birmingham, on reflection, and having been with the Rebel for a day in the metal, it’s also definitely grown on me, is undeniably a tempting ‘blank canvas’ for further customization and, best of all, being a blend of roadster and cruiser styles, is undeniably effective and useful in terms of how it goes as well.
Put bluntly: bikes simply don’t get any easier to ride – which, if you’re a relative novice after a fashionable A2 machine means the Rebel has one helluva lot going for it. The seat’s ridiculously low, the upright, not-too-extreme ergonomics and the bike’s overall manageability are faultless. Add that to the flexibility of the twin cylinder engine, decent enough performance and idiot-proof controls and you end up with a bike you can get on, ride, enjoy, quickly grow your confidence on and also do more and longer journeys than most customs can tackle.