The 1974 CB350K4 had only done 8700 miles when it came into my hands in 1981. It'd sat in a Southampton dealer's showroom for at least two and a half years of its existence. An immaculate one-owner, he'd priced it a few hundred quid over what the market would bear. He saved face by taking my step-thru in part-exchange, giving me twice what I thought it was worth!
The C90 had provided an easy way to pass the test but it hadn't stopped me borrowing various bigger bikes, riding them illegally. One of these was a Honda CB250K1, which had impressed with its smooth running and solid handling. All these things are relative, of course, I was used to loose old hacks and the terrible step-thru. After those, just about any newish bike would've seemed terrific.
The CB250 had needed little effort to motor up to 80mph, thereafter going a bit dead. Had a nice power band once rolled past 6500 revs and handled okay once the owner had fitted a pair of Girling shocks. I would've been quite happy with one but knew that most had been thrashed into the ground by keen learners.
The 350 didn't seem that much faster but was happier at lower revs, chugging away, but still came hard on to the power at 6000 revs. By modern standards acceleration was lethargic but the bike is actually still up to modern road speeds. 85-90mph cruising with a top speed of just over the ton.
Soon after buying mine, running around on a lot of local trips and commuting just to check out that all was as it should be, I decided some serious riding was in order. Craven panniers and top-box were added, along with a rather large tank-bag for all the heavy stuff.
A pair of heavy-duty Koni shocks needed to stop the mudguard dragging on the back wheel when fully loaded up. The front fork springs were also replaced with heavier items - beware, it's dead easy to distort the lower fork yoke if their bolts are undone with the front wheel still attached - the weight of the front end stresses them to a surprising degree. My friend with the 250 had to order a whole new lower yoke and steering stem!
Tyres were low end Avons, more for their life (15000 miles plus) than their grip. Initial sorties gave 55mpg but that improved to 60mpg on the open road; as much as 70mpg if speeds were kept below 65mph! Important, as the reserve range was minimal and the tap often didn't work on this setting due to crud in the tap's filter! After a three mile push when the bike ran out of fuel unexpectedly, I took to carrying a half gallon of fuel in the panniers.
The oil breather was directed on to the chain, though the oil burnt off was so minimal that I still had to give it a twice weekly wipe over with some old oil. Cheap chains had a life of 8000 miles. One advantage of using relatively naff chains was that they rather than the sprockets always wore!
General servicing was done every 1000 miles - oil, points, camchain tensioner, valve clearances and carb balance. About an hours work, all pretty simple, neither a degree in engineering nor any particular skill needed. When the carbs and valves went seriously out of adjustment, the CB was reluctant to start and hesitated around the six grand mark, as well as going a bit vibratory around 9000 revs. Oddly, I always enjoyed fettling the Honda, though someone had already replaced all the engine screws with allen bolts. Stock screws no fun.
One slightly annoying habit of the twin cylinder motor, its appetite for spark plugs. NGK's finest didn't want to last for more than 600 miles. I was somewhat annoyed to find, the first time they failed, that the motor refused to fire on the electric boot. After ten, or so, kicks on the kickstart, she grumbled into life but died when I went to close the choke. New plugs, no problems... until 600 miles later. A couple of sets were always carried, as most gas station attendants just gave me a bemused look when I tried to buy them.
By 1982 I'd done many long distance tours of the UK. Up and down the country, across it and right around its periphery. I was 29 years old, bored out of my head with work and already had one divorce behind me. A fresh start and a grand adventure beckoned. Europe here we come! All my friends, not to mention the concerned parents, thought I was mad to give up a well paid job for the unknown.
I had total faith in the Honda, which now had 17,800 miles on its clock and seemed to be running even better than when I bought it. I let a Honda mechanic clean out the gauze filter hidden deep within the engine and do a complete service, the latter to see if he could get it sweeter running than myself. He couldn't!
An handlebar fairing was added to the front of the bike, but only after I made it a bit wider to provide hand protection. Suspicious, as ever, of Johnny Foreigner and his tropical storm outbursts! I just about got all my worldly possessions dispersed over the Honda - a somewhat sad state but, nevertheless, rather liberating!
The ferry held captive a few big Jap fours and the odd rat MZ but I never did find their owners on the huge ship. The storm that blew up the channel had everyone looking a bit green and left both panniers scarred - back then, Craven made very tough luggage; later, it saved the bike from damage in a couple of minor mishaps on gravel strewn roads.
Riding off the boat on to French soil at Calais, I rolled to a halt at customs and almost fell off as my legs were still wobbly from the sea voyage - just as well that I didn't join the navy as I'd originally planned as a teenager! The customs officer screamed at me in French, probably thinking I was yet another lager lout! But he didn't send me back home!
The sun had yet to rise, had to depend on the Honda's meagre front light, whilst remembering to ride on the correct side of the road. Soon gained the impression that given the vaguest excuse French drivers would run me off the road! Luckily, the panniers and top-box were craftily arranged to obscure the numberplate, so at least they wouldn't have the excuse of seeing a Brit vehicle and going for it. It would also help avoid the infamous speeding fines.
Long journeys in the UK had turned up some backside pains but I actually liked the relationship between bars and pegs. Worked well in town, didn't cause any real problems at a 90mph cruising speed. The engine felt totally contented at this velocity, more so than below 6000rpm when there was a slightly discordant feel. By modern standards I suppose it would rate as a vibratory old heap, but I rather enjoyed the fact that the motor felt like it was working away.
Age and mileage, though, were conspiring against the saddle's foam, doing more than 250 miles in a day flattened it right down. Agony! I had to stand up on the pegs as a means of pain relief! Some clown in a Renault took this as an open invitation to swerve in front of me. Standing up, I was barely in control of the machine. Braking harshly, I sat back down in a hurry, catching a very sensitive piece of my anatomy on the back of the petrol tank. Tears to the eyes job!
Worse yet, the Renault had better brakes than the Honda (still troublefree TLS drum front, SLS drum rear), meaning I had to take to the grass on the side of the road, barely able to see where I was going through the pain-induced mist and tears. The worn Avons skidded and skittered over the slippery French grass, the bike sliding away at about 15mph!
The skid shattered the GRP fairing, bent the clutch lever and added yet more scars to the panniers. All told, not a total disaster. Until I went to straighten the clutch lever and it broke off with about an inch left sticking out. Hmmm! The molegrips were clamped over this, as they clicked home, a big bit of skin on the palm of my hand was caught as the levers closed shut! Talk about trying to reduce me to a blubbering wreck!
It's worth noting that though the clutch was light in action (even with the lever modified by molegrips), the plates could swell slightly in hot weather, causing much drag in town! This could be taken out by using the adjuster on the lever but once cooled down would have to be readjusted. A mild idiosyncrasy to be expected on old Hondas.
The way I played things in Europe, get up at about six in the morning, on the road 15 minutes later and ride until midday. Then find a cheap hotel and do some sightseeing, often on foot. Heavy drinking in the night was another indulgence, generally cheaper and easier going than in the UK - I was never refused entry. That way I did a lot of riding but never grew tired of the experience. Let's face it, it's almost impossible to meet the opposite sex on a motorcycle - I've never even had the chance to pick up a hitchhiker.
At one point I ended up with an Italian wench on the back. She was a bit too fond of the pasta, caused heavy wallowing whenever I went above 50mph! The acceleration was also adversely affected! It didn't need much thought to work out which - bike or woman - would be changed!
Eventually, I ended up in Barcelona teaching English, still using the bike for exploring Spain. It was three years before I returned to the UK and a proper job. By then the Honda had 43,400 miles on the clock! What had gone wrong? Aside from a new camchain, exhaust system, seat (what a relief) and electrical rewire, not very much. By the mid eighties, the Honda was relegated to second bike status, a big Suzuki four my prime means of transport.
The Honda needed a rebore at 53000 miles, the valves reground a little later and by 60,000 miles was in desperate need of new gearbox selectors. By 1990 it was only take out for the odd ride, being considered venerable with 69000 miles on the clock. The finish was still okay, though the Craven panniers had finally cracked up and disintegrated after one tarmac bashing too many!
Like many others, I couldn't find a job that paid a living wage in the mid nineties, ended up downgrading from house to apartment (the bank taking all the profit against unpaid interest) and selling off most of my surplus possessions, including a CBR600. That left the little Honda twin, once again, as my main form of transport. The flat came with a garage so I have plenty of space for the fettling sessions - now every 500 miles.
The Honda doesn't really want to go above 85mph and only turns in 50mpg, but just the other day I ran up from Bath to Glasgow and back, the Honda rolling along in the motorway slow lane without any problems. The back roads were more fun, it still handles well (now on modern, short-lived rubber).
Obviously, it isn't without problems. Things like the pushrod seal, rubber carb manifolds and carb diaphragms cracking up. But the essential stuff - motor and frame - seem very well built, the mileometer just cracking the 80,000 mile mark! The bike still sees off Superdreams which rot away at a much more rapid rate and is a match for your hotter MZ! The classic shape means it's almost modern in a retro kind of way - been offered 1200 notes! They are very rare, difficult to find engine parts, means I should find something newer...but not just yet!
The C90 had provided an easy way to pass the test but it hadn't stopped me borrowing various bigger bikes, riding them illegally. One of these was a Honda CB250K1, which had impressed with its smooth running and solid handling. All these things are relative, of course, I was used to loose old hacks and the terrible step-thru. After those, just about any newish bike would've seemed terrific.
The CB250 had needed little effort to motor up to 80mph, thereafter going a bit dead. Had a nice power band once rolled past 6500 revs and handled okay once the owner had fitted a pair of Girling shocks. I would've been quite happy with one but knew that most had been thrashed into the ground by keen learners.
The 350 didn't seem that much faster but was happier at lower revs, chugging away, but still came hard on to the power at 6000 revs. By modern standards acceleration was lethargic but the bike is actually still up to modern road speeds. 85-90mph cruising with a top speed of just over the ton.
Soon after buying mine, running around on a lot of local trips and commuting just to check out that all was as it should be, I decided some serious riding was in order. Craven panniers and top-box were added, along with a rather large tank-bag for all the heavy stuff.
A pair of heavy-duty Koni shocks needed to stop the mudguard dragging on the back wheel when fully loaded up. The front fork springs were also replaced with heavier items - beware, it's dead easy to distort the lower fork yoke if their bolts are undone with the front wheel still attached - the weight of the front end stresses them to a surprising degree. My friend with the 250 had to order a whole new lower yoke and steering stem!
Tyres were low end Avons, more for their life (15000 miles plus) than their grip. Initial sorties gave 55mpg but that improved to 60mpg on the open road; as much as 70mpg if speeds were kept below 65mph! Important, as the reserve range was minimal and the tap often didn't work on this setting due to crud in the tap's filter! After a three mile push when the bike ran out of fuel unexpectedly, I took to carrying a half gallon of fuel in the panniers.
The oil breather was directed on to the chain, though the oil burnt off was so minimal that I still had to give it a twice weekly wipe over with some old oil. Cheap chains had a life of 8000 miles. One advantage of using relatively naff chains was that they rather than the sprockets always wore!
General servicing was done every 1000 miles - oil, points, camchain tensioner, valve clearances and carb balance. About an hours work, all pretty simple, neither a degree in engineering nor any particular skill needed. When the carbs and valves went seriously out of adjustment, the CB was reluctant to start and hesitated around the six grand mark, as well as going a bit vibratory around 9000 revs. Oddly, I always enjoyed fettling the Honda, though someone had already replaced all the engine screws with allen bolts. Stock screws no fun.
One slightly annoying habit of the twin cylinder motor, its appetite for spark plugs. NGK's finest didn't want to last for more than 600 miles. I was somewhat annoyed to find, the first time they failed, that the motor refused to fire on the electric boot. After ten, or so, kicks on the kickstart, she grumbled into life but died when I went to close the choke. New plugs, no problems... until 600 miles later. A couple of sets were always carried, as most gas station attendants just gave me a bemused look when I tried to buy them.
By 1982 I'd done many long distance tours of the UK. Up and down the country, across it and right around its periphery. I was 29 years old, bored out of my head with work and already had one divorce behind me. A fresh start and a grand adventure beckoned. Europe here we come! All my friends, not to mention the concerned parents, thought I was mad to give up a well paid job for the unknown.
I had total faith in the Honda, which now had 17,800 miles on its clock and seemed to be running even better than when I bought it. I let a Honda mechanic clean out the gauze filter hidden deep within the engine and do a complete service, the latter to see if he could get it sweeter running than myself. He couldn't!
An handlebar fairing was added to the front of the bike, but only after I made it a bit wider to provide hand protection. Suspicious, as ever, of Johnny Foreigner and his tropical storm outbursts! I just about got all my worldly possessions dispersed over the Honda - a somewhat sad state but, nevertheless, rather liberating!
The ferry held captive a few big Jap fours and the odd rat MZ but I never did find their owners on the huge ship. The storm that blew up the channel had everyone looking a bit green and left both panniers scarred - back then, Craven made very tough luggage; later, it saved the bike from damage in a couple of minor mishaps on gravel strewn roads.
Riding off the boat on to French soil at Calais, I rolled to a halt at customs and almost fell off as my legs were still wobbly from the sea voyage - just as well that I didn't join the navy as I'd originally planned as a teenager! The customs officer screamed at me in French, probably thinking I was yet another lager lout! But he didn't send me back home!
The sun had yet to rise, had to depend on the Honda's meagre front light, whilst remembering to ride on the correct side of the road. Soon gained the impression that given the vaguest excuse French drivers would run me off the road! Luckily, the panniers and top-box were craftily arranged to obscure the numberplate, so at least they wouldn't have the excuse of seeing a Brit vehicle and going for it. It would also help avoid the infamous speeding fines.
Long journeys in the UK had turned up some backside pains but I actually liked the relationship between bars and pegs. Worked well in town, didn't cause any real problems at a 90mph cruising speed. The engine felt totally contented at this velocity, more so than below 6000rpm when there was a slightly discordant feel. By modern standards I suppose it would rate as a vibratory old heap, but I rather enjoyed the fact that the motor felt like it was working away.
Age and mileage, though, were conspiring against the saddle's foam, doing more than 250 miles in a day flattened it right down. Agony! I had to stand up on the pegs as a means of pain relief! Some clown in a Renault took this as an open invitation to swerve in front of me. Standing up, I was barely in control of the machine. Braking harshly, I sat back down in a hurry, catching a very sensitive piece of my anatomy on the back of the petrol tank. Tears to the eyes job!
Worse yet, the Renault had better brakes than the Honda (still troublefree TLS drum front, SLS drum rear), meaning I had to take to the grass on the side of the road, barely able to see where I was going through the pain-induced mist and tears. The worn Avons skidded and skittered over the slippery French grass, the bike sliding away at about 15mph!
The skid shattered the GRP fairing, bent the clutch lever and added yet more scars to the panniers. All told, not a total disaster. Until I went to straighten the clutch lever and it broke off with about an inch left sticking out. Hmmm! The molegrips were clamped over this, as they clicked home, a big bit of skin on the palm of my hand was caught as the levers closed shut! Talk about trying to reduce me to a blubbering wreck!
It's worth noting that though the clutch was light in action (even with the lever modified by molegrips), the plates could swell slightly in hot weather, causing much drag in town! This could be taken out by using the adjuster on the lever but once cooled down would have to be readjusted. A mild idiosyncrasy to be expected on old Hondas.
The way I played things in Europe, get up at about six in the morning, on the road 15 minutes later and ride until midday. Then find a cheap hotel and do some sightseeing, often on foot. Heavy drinking in the night was another indulgence, generally cheaper and easier going than in the UK - I was never refused entry. That way I did a lot of riding but never grew tired of the experience. Let's face it, it's almost impossible to meet the opposite sex on a motorcycle - I've never even had the chance to pick up a hitchhiker.
At one point I ended up with an Italian wench on the back. She was a bit too fond of the pasta, caused heavy wallowing whenever I went above 50mph! The acceleration was also adversely affected! It didn't need much thought to work out which - bike or woman - would be changed!
Eventually, I ended up in Barcelona teaching English, still using the bike for exploring Spain. It was three years before I returned to the UK and a proper job. By then the Honda had 43,400 miles on the clock! What had gone wrong? Aside from a new camchain, exhaust system, seat (what a relief) and electrical rewire, not very much. By the mid eighties, the Honda was relegated to second bike status, a big Suzuki four my prime means of transport.
The Honda needed a rebore at 53000 miles, the valves reground a little later and by 60,000 miles was in desperate need of new gearbox selectors. By 1990 it was only take out for the odd ride, being considered venerable with 69000 miles on the clock. The finish was still okay, though the Craven panniers had finally cracked up and disintegrated after one tarmac bashing too many!
Like many others, I couldn't find a job that paid a living wage in the mid nineties, ended up downgrading from house to apartment (the bank taking all the profit against unpaid interest) and selling off most of my surplus possessions, including a CBR600. That left the little Honda twin, once again, as my main form of transport. The flat came with a garage so I have plenty of space for the fettling sessions - now every 500 miles.
The Honda doesn't really want to go above 85mph and only turns in 50mpg, but just the other day I ran up from Bath to Glasgow and back, the Honda rolling along in the motorway slow lane without any problems. The back roads were more fun, it still handles well (now on modern, short-lived rubber).
Obviously, it isn't without problems. Things like the pushrod seal, rubber carb manifolds and carb diaphragms cracking up. But the essential stuff - motor and frame - seem very well built, the mileometer just cracking the 80,000 mile mark! The bike still sees off Superdreams which rot away at a much more rapid rate and is a match for your hotter MZ! The classic shape means it's almost modern in a retro kind of way - been offered 1200 notes! They are very rare, difficult to find engine parts, means I should find something newer...but not just yet!
Eric Harrison