So I tried the three-wheeled Can-Am Spyder F3-S. I wasn’t crazy about it. But some people are, even enough to spend $20,000 on one. One owner chimed in to explain why.
Daveinva thought his comment wouldn’t get seen because it was like the 200th on our Spyder review, but fear not Dave. Can I call you Dave? We really do read as many as we can. Here’s a genuinely though-out response to my beefs with the trike and a defense of its existence:
Well, it sucks that I’m late to the party, because I’m one of the few proud Spyder owners around these parts, i.e. unlike most of you fakers, I actually know what the hell I’m talking about.
Again, disclaimer: 40ish male, great shape, every limb works, I can hold up a motorcycle just fine, and I’m not at all afraid of my motorcycles.
And I love my Spyder RS.
1. The Spyder is not a bike. I own motorcycles, I ride motorcycles, I *love* motorcycles, but the Spyder is not a motorcycle. Direct steering is not counter steering, three wheels is not two, etc., etc. The physics is different, the forces are different, the lines are different. If you’re used to riding two wheels, you WILL feel uncomfortable on a Spyder the first time you ride it— in fact, the rule of thumb is a minimum 500 miles to get completely comfortable. I know more than one two-wheel rider hate on the Spyder after riding it around a parking lot, only to come to love the machine after a few days.
2. The Spyder is fun. It’s different, but it’s still fun. You don’t get the lean with the curves, but you still get forces you need to counteract, i.e. I have a blast hanging off the inside all drunken-monkey style.
3. The most inaccurate criticism is the “all the disadvantages of a motorcycle, with none of the advantages.” I still get to enjoy the open road atop the Spyder, like a bike. I’m more connected to the road on the Spyder than I am in a convertible— the best convertible in the world can’t beat the sightlines atop a Spyder, and my butt is right against the suspension on the Spyder. Unlike a bike, however, I can ride over absolutely every last piece of slick garbage in the road and not worry about losing it— sand, gravel, potholes, leaves, manholes, edge traps, you name it— and I can stomp on a brake in a corner and not lowside or highside. And lastly, you’re more obvious to the drivers around you on a Spyder, and planted better if you’re bumped. No, you can’t lane split, but guess what? *YOU* can’t lane split, either, unless you live in California, so why make that a factor in your choice?
Now, again, I still love two wheels, because two wheels gives me something I can’t get from three (or four). But my mood is happy with the three wheels sometimes; some days I want vanilla, some days I want chocolate, and I have the choice in my driveway.
Bottom line: I smile on my Spyder, like I smile on my Honda, like I smile on my Kawasaki, like I smile on my Vespa. Why do you all hate smiles?
Hey Daveinva, the Spyder’s still not for me but I’m glad you dig it. And I want to say thanks for contributing a more insightful comment than, uh, some of the others.
At this juncture I’d like to present you with your reward of a song. So here’s the first totally random thing that came up on YouTube! How ‘bout that.
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