The only thing cooler than the new Confederate G2 P51 Combat Fighter is the Combat Fighter's marketing prose.
For the record, I'd like to say that this new bike, unveiled last week, looks incredible. I would love to get on one of these and attempt to ride so fast my eyeballs popped through the back of my head. Also for the record, I would like to say that the marketing department at Confederate is incredibly adroit. That, or they're all smoking crystal meth. Let's consider the evidence.
The Combat Fighter is an all-aluminum motorcycle, lending light weight and stiffness to the package. It packs a 2,163 cc engine promising 200 horsepower. Confederate (whose slogan is "The Art Of Rebellion") builds these with a girder-style front end that has more technology in its R&D than most bridges, I would wager.
"Like its hugely successful predecessor, the Combat Fighter is inspired by the 1960s rebel, anti-hero and the stripped, raw, chopper he rode."
Something tells me that guy didn't spend the 1960s equivalent of six figures on his scooter, though.
The Combat Fighter's production run is limited to a mere 61 units, so you probably better get your hands on one now. Happily, they are taking pre-payments, which "secure your reservation and initiate production." That costs 30 grand, but fear not! Order before Sept. 7, and a $10,000 "production incentive" will be applied. There are two flavors being produced: "Black Flag" and "Blonde," which appear to be code for "all blacked-out" and "not all blacked-out." The Black Flag will set you back $119,500. Now, if you're not the upper-crust country club type of rider, you can probably make do on the Blonde version, which is a more sensible $113,900.
"There exists both beauty and brutality in the P51 Combat Fighter aesthetic and the way it rides you. It is the metaphor for American rebellion."
I see two problems here. First, I tend to ride my bikes, not flipsy-daisy like Confederate assumes. Secondly, I am pretty sure when I think "American Rebellion," I'm thinking of a musket-toting soldier eating hardtack, not a motorcycle with a clear oil tank. But hey, I'm a weirdo.
The Combat Fighter's fuel tank is structural, which is nifty, and I am sure there are eleventy-billion engineering points I am not smart enough to understand beyond "That helps it go faster." The frame is of the monocoque design. This is notable because it's a notoriously underused method of designing a frame (see our WTATWTA about frames), yet Confederate claims it's the "lightest chassis capable of housing the greatest amount of torque as a percentage of weight ever achieved." That's impressive. And frightening. This bike could send me on my coolest hospital trip to date!
"A Confederate Combat is a metaphysical force you neither own nor ride."
Well, that's a bummer. Owning and riding a Combat Fighter were actually the only two things I was interested in when I learned of this bike's existence.
Obviously, this looks like stupid fun. You don't need me to tell you that. I'm being so snide about this bike because I really want to ride one, and it will never happen. Someone will buy one of these, though. Sixty-one someones. I hope one of those people has terrible decision-making skills and lends me a Combat Fighter. Until then, I'll keep being snotty and pray that The Suits put me on one to review. If not, my contingency plan is to work on this writing gig and see if I can get good enough to land a job at Confederate. I'ma have a hard time, though, beating their current copywriter, who produced this gem:
"It is absolute power. It is pure irony in the palm of your right hand. The boundaries of temptation are blurred as you feel yourself yield toward compromise. Your will to break it (absolute power) down, as you must, is simultaneously illuminated, clarified and nurtured. The boats are burning. You must do what you know is right, or else."
I better get crackin'.