The CB500 four celebrated going around the clock by smoking like a stroker and tapping like an old sewing machine. For the third time in its life, I took the cylinder head off, found that one of the tappets had broken up and there was a large piece of valve missing. Typically, the valve debris must've gone straight through the exhaust rather than damaging the engine.
Over the decades I'd acquired half a garage full of dead CB500's, had enough parts to build a couple more bikes. Though I had no inclination, one CB was more than enough. The replacement parts fitted, the CB was back to normal.
Normality consists of about the ton, 50mpg and ace handling! Ace handling? Well, a pair of strong Koni shocks and GPz550 forks means the Honda has proper suspension rather than the dodgy original equipment. Once a bit of wear gets into the OE stuff, weaves and even wobbles emerge. On shot tyres and suspension the bike can turn into a bit of a camel.
On the other hand, with upgraded suspension and fresh modern rubber the 420lb Honda handles really well. Not in the same league as modern tackle, perhaps, rather more in line with British twins - firm, precise but a bit slow turning. The real limitation comes from a lack of ground clearance, even with a 4-1 exhaust. The CB can turn very suicidal when something digs in but I've always managed - so far - to lurch it on to a new line.
In fact, accidents, over more than 20 years, have been very rare. Certainly wasn't the brakes - single front disc and rear drum - which are antiquated by modern standards. Though I could upgrade them I want to keep the wire wheels, which have been expensively rebuilt with stainless steel spokes and alloy rims.
The latter caused by one of the few accidents that went down. Turning left, the Honda caught on a raised manhole cover and I got a boot down. Saved the fall but the kick sent the CB on a new course. Ended by crashing into an Escort. Nice dent in his wing but a very buckled wheel that wouldn't even turn in the forks.
I was so annoyed that I told the cops who turned up to f..k off. Not recommended, they recokoned I'd tried to assault them! Spent about three hours in a cell until they realised that the parents were rich and then it was all a big misunderstanding! The parents are also mean, won't buy me a new CBR; in fact, won't have anything to do with motorcycles.
The accident had also dented one of the original silencers (don't ask how, I don't know), which after six years had rusted most of their baffles and were beginning to develop large holes. The whole system was massive in weight and not particularly attractive. The 4-1 replacement went on with only a few heavy taps but the carbs were way out. Too lean. The solution was to remove the short silencer and replace it with the best of the four stock silencers, which was freer flowing thanks to the lack of baffling.
Gave the midrange a more manic edge, not difficult as the stocker's 50 horses is very bland in its delivery. Top end was the same but low rev delivery had a fit of the stutters below 2000rpm. This was cleared up by fitting a set of K and N filters, not an easy job! There was a very marginal improvement in top speed, as well.
The carbs become impossible to balance after 60,000 miles, need replacing. I fitted a set out of a crashed 19000 miler, couldn't believe how much smoother it was (they need balancing every 500 miles, tiresome) and economy recovered from an all time low of 35mpg! Worth checking out the fuel pipe as it hardens with age and cracks up!
As do the carb manifolds - I spent a week tearing my hair out, wondering why the engine was running badly. Even took the head off to check if the valves were dying. Only by chance did I notice that there was a small crack in one of the carb manifolds. With four cylinders it becomes very difficult to trace minor problems.
50-60,000 miles seems to be the inbuilt limit of these bikes, the point when obsolescence rules. The wiring spits off its insulation and tries to set fire to the bike (the idea that the CB is a living thing with a will of its own is deeply embedded in my mind after all this time!). Batteries boiled after about six thousand miles, didn't go back to normal until all the wiring and black boxes were replaced. The actual alternator is original!
No sooner was that fixed, than the always wayward gearbox went completely impossible. Shot selectors and gearbox cogs breaking up. I always did a 750 mile oil change in deference to both engine and gearbox sharing their oil (a then radical if now ubiquitous design that still makes no sense to me!). The top end could be left in place but it's still a major job to split the crankcases and replace the parts. The crankshaft looked like new, which was reassuring!
The new selectors and gears took a few hundred miles to mesh properly, lots of whining and jerking before they settled down. I would've preferred a touch taller gearing, the bike was always buzzing a bit too much in top gear but the acceleration would've turned far too stately; it was slow enough as stock. The bike can't keep up with mediocre tackle such as GS500E's but it will still cruise along at 80-85mph on the motorway. Given the mileage, impressive!
At 65000 miles the bike was treated to another set of cylinders and pistons, a valve regrind and some replacement tappets which were worn right down. The camshaft itself was still pristine, down to those frequent oil changes. After a few hundred miles of running in, the engine felt a touch more powerful and smoother. The engine could've run for a few more miles, maybe made it through the 70,000 mile mark.
The chassis bearings never gave any trouble for the first 40,000 miles. Then the wheel bearings went, closely followed by the swinging arm and steering head. I ended up destroying the swinging arm spindle but had a couple of spares. Replacement bearings had a much shorter life than the originals - figure 15-20,000 miles.
Can be mildly inconvenient as I had the rear wheel bearings go midway through a two-up tour of France. The French pretended not to understand, looked aghast at the idea of repairing such an ancient motorcycle and in the end I had to get a friend to mail replacements out to me. Might just've been language difficulties as they still have lots of blacksmiths and the like - it's all to do with the rates, I think - in the UK they rip you off something rotten even before you've turned a profit if you open a shop.
Wasn't the end of the world, mind, whilst waiting for the parts we holed up in a cheap hotel and had a nice time wandering around Paris. The last time I was in London, by way of contrast, had the shock of my life - the cheapest hotel cost about sixty quid and was the size of the Paris hotel's bathroom! After the back wheel debacle, I always carry spare chassis bearings (and a swinging arm spindle!).
I already have spare cables taped next to the existing ones, home-made with nylons inners, they last much longer than stock and are smoother. It is possible to ride the Honda without a working clutch but not much fun!
Rust eats away at various chassis components, you'd be lucky to get more than 60,000 miles out of things like petrol tanks. No problem for me, I have plenty of parts to hand. By the way, dead CB's don't seem of much interest to the punters (in contrast to prime 500's which are considered classics) and I've never paid more than 150 sovs for them. Much cheaper than even going to breakers for parts who usually laugh at the mention of such an old machine. There are a lot of common bits between models of this era if you don't want to clutter up your house or garage.
One malady the CB500 used to suffer from was poor running in wet weather, a couple of cylinders cutting out. Unlike some of the later Honda fours, all it needed was new HT leads and caps. I find changing the spark plugs every 2500 miles helps with general running, especially starting from cold. Electronic ignition has replaced the points, along with some better spec ignition coils. No improvement in economy or speed, though.
The bike now has 109,870 miles on the clock. A bit more than that as I often don't get around to replacing the speedo cables for a couple of weeks - they can be short-lived. The frame is still original, most of the chassis has been replaced somewhere along the line! Not exactly the best build quality in the world, but it's been a lot cheaper to repair the bike as I go along than try to sell it and buy something more modern.
As to the future, I am in the market for some new wheels, something I can keep for a couple of decades. Not another four, as they are a touch bland. An SV650 Suzuki appeals, they look like they might last a long time.
Over the decades I'd acquired half a garage full of dead CB500's, had enough parts to build a couple more bikes. Though I had no inclination, one CB was more than enough. The replacement parts fitted, the CB was back to normal.
Normality consists of about the ton, 50mpg and ace handling! Ace handling? Well, a pair of strong Koni shocks and GPz550 forks means the Honda has proper suspension rather than the dodgy original equipment. Once a bit of wear gets into the OE stuff, weaves and even wobbles emerge. On shot tyres and suspension the bike can turn into a bit of a camel.
On the other hand, with upgraded suspension and fresh modern rubber the 420lb Honda handles really well. Not in the same league as modern tackle, perhaps, rather more in line with British twins - firm, precise but a bit slow turning. The real limitation comes from a lack of ground clearance, even with a 4-1 exhaust. The CB can turn very suicidal when something digs in but I've always managed - so far - to lurch it on to a new line.
In fact, accidents, over more than 20 years, have been very rare. Certainly wasn't the brakes - single front disc and rear drum - which are antiquated by modern standards. Though I could upgrade them I want to keep the wire wheels, which have been expensively rebuilt with stainless steel spokes and alloy rims.
The latter caused by one of the few accidents that went down. Turning left, the Honda caught on a raised manhole cover and I got a boot down. Saved the fall but the kick sent the CB on a new course. Ended by crashing into an Escort. Nice dent in his wing but a very buckled wheel that wouldn't even turn in the forks.
I was so annoyed that I told the cops who turned up to f..k off. Not recommended, they recokoned I'd tried to assault them! Spent about three hours in a cell until they realised that the parents were rich and then it was all a big misunderstanding! The parents are also mean, won't buy me a new CBR; in fact, won't have anything to do with motorcycles.
The accident had also dented one of the original silencers (don't ask how, I don't know), which after six years had rusted most of their baffles and were beginning to develop large holes. The whole system was massive in weight and not particularly attractive. The 4-1 replacement went on with only a few heavy taps but the carbs were way out. Too lean. The solution was to remove the short silencer and replace it with the best of the four stock silencers, which was freer flowing thanks to the lack of baffling.
Gave the midrange a more manic edge, not difficult as the stocker's 50 horses is very bland in its delivery. Top end was the same but low rev delivery had a fit of the stutters below 2000rpm. This was cleared up by fitting a set of K and N filters, not an easy job! There was a very marginal improvement in top speed, as well.
The carbs become impossible to balance after 60,000 miles, need replacing. I fitted a set out of a crashed 19000 miler, couldn't believe how much smoother it was (they need balancing every 500 miles, tiresome) and economy recovered from an all time low of 35mpg! Worth checking out the fuel pipe as it hardens with age and cracks up!
As do the carb manifolds - I spent a week tearing my hair out, wondering why the engine was running badly. Even took the head off to check if the valves were dying. Only by chance did I notice that there was a small crack in one of the carb manifolds. With four cylinders it becomes very difficult to trace minor problems.
50-60,000 miles seems to be the inbuilt limit of these bikes, the point when obsolescence rules. The wiring spits off its insulation and tries to set fire to the bike (the idea that the CB is a living thing with a will of its own is deeply embedded in my mind after all this time!). Batteries boiled after about six thousand miles, didn't go back to normal until all the wiring and black boxes were replaced. The actual alternator is original!
No sooner was that fixed, than the always wayward gearbox went completely impossible. Shot selectors and gearbox cogs breaking up. I always did a 750 mile oil change in deference to both engine and gearbox sharing their oil (a then radical if now ubiquitous design that still makes no sense to me!). The top end could be left in place but it's still a major job to split the crankcases and replace the parts. The crankshaft looked like new, which was reassuring!
The new selectors and gears took a few hundred miles to mesh properly, lots of whining and jerking before they settled down. I would've preferred a touch taller gearing, the bike was always buzzing a bit too much in top gear but the acceleration would've turned far too stately; it was slow enough as stock. The bike can't keep up with mediocre tackle such as GS500E's but it will still cruise along at 80-85mph on the motorway. Given the mileage, impressive!
At 65000 miles the bike was treated to another set of cylinders and pistons, a valve regrind and some replacement tappets which were worn right down. The camshaft itself was still pristine, down to those frequent oil changes. After a few hundred miles of running in, the engine felt a touch more powerful and smoother. The engine could've run for a few more miles, maybe made it through the 70,000 mile mark.
The chassis bearings never gave any trouble for the first 40,000 miles. Then the wheel bearings went, closely followed by the swinging arm and steering head. I ended up destroying the swinging arm spindle but had a couple of spares. Replacement bearings had a much shorter life than the originals - figure 15-20,000 miles.
Can be mildly inconvenient as I had the rear wheel bearings go midway through a two-up tour of France. The French pretended not to understand, looked aghast at the idea of repairing such an ancient motorcycle and in the end I had to get a friend to mail replacements out to me. Might just've been language difficulties as they still have lots of blacksmiths and the like - it's all to do with the rates, I think - in the UK they rip you off something rotten even before you've turned a profit if you open a shop.
Wasn't the end of the world, mind, whilst waiting for the parts we holed up in a cheap hotel and had a nice time wandering around Paris. The last time I was in London, by way of contrast, had the shock of my life - the cheapest hotel cost about sixty quid and was the size of the Paris hotel's bathroom! After the back wheel debacle, I always carry spare chassis bearings (and a swinging arm spindle!).
I already have spare cables taped next to the existing ones, home-made with nylons inners, they last much longer than stock and are smoother. It is possible to ride the Honda without a working clutch but not much fun!
Rust eats away at various chassis components, you'd be lucky to get more than 60,000 miles out of things like petrol tanks. No problem for me, I have plenty of parts to hand. By the way, dead CB's don't seem of much interest to the punters (in contrast to prime 500's which are considered classics) and I've never paid more than 150 sovs for them. Much cheaper than even going to breakers for parts who usually laugh at the mention of such an old machine. There are a lot of common bits between models of this era if you don't want to clutter up your house or garage.
One malady the CB500 used to suffer from was poor running in wet weather, a couple of cylinders cutting out. Unlike some of the later Honda fours, all it needed was new HT leads and caps. I find changing the spark plugs every 2500 miles helps with general running, especially starting from cold. Electronic ignition has replaced the points, along with some better spec ignition coils. No improvement in economy or speed, though.
The bike now has 109,870 miles on the clock. A bit more than that as I often don't get around to replacing the speedo cables for a couple of weeks - they can be short-lived. The frame is still original, most of the chassis has been replaced somewhere along the line! Not exactly the best build quality in the world, but it's been a lot cheaper to repair the bike as I go along than try to sell it and buy something more modern.
As to the future, I am in the market for some new wheels, something I can keep for a couple of decades. Not another four, as they are a touch bland. An SV650 Suzuki appeals, they look like they might last a long time.
W.K.L.
****************************************************
The fire bloomed under the seat as I was waltzing along at about 70mph. The first I knew of it was the engine cutting out, the breeze carrying the fumes out behind the bike. I'd begun to wonder about the flashing lights, frantic finger pointing and avalanche of horns. The hard shoulder beckoned. The twenty year old bike had basically been run into the ground over 67000 miles. Five owners, my own tenure lasting three weeks. It was a case of pass the rat and I was the unlucky idiot who'd been left with the mess. My foolishness didn't extend to ignoring AA membership.
The exact cause of the fire was difficult to determine. It could've been the split battery that might just be the original one. It could've been insulation turned hard and rotten. It could've been the rectifier exploding. All I knew was that the underside of the saddle was a mess. Worse still, the alternator turned out dead, a short circuit or age doing for it. A complete electrical rebuild followed.
Whilst I was at it, I did the valve clearances and points. The latter had blackened contacts and the former's rockers didn't look too healthy. But still the engine farted into life after a couple of kicks and settled down to a regular tickover. This despite the four carbs being so worn that I could never balance them - they came in and out of balance to a rhythm all of their own, but the engine was so loose it didn't seem to make much difference!
Back on the road, the bike ran around town and did the odd outing without too many hassles. Clutch drag at traffic lights, occasional cutting out for no apparent reason and indicators that only worked when they were in the mood were minor irritants that were in line with the initial £200 cost of the old four.
Many middle-aged people came up to me, demanding to know why I'd let such a classic motorcycle degenerate like that; a lot of guys must've lusted after them in their youth and there seemed some potential in doing a minor restoration job. It was this, rather than any particular love for the CB which was, at best, mediocre in its performance, that made me do a quick strip down in the front room. For some reason, the neighbours had always been amused by the fact that I parked the bike in the passageway overnight.
A lot of the bike was held together by rust. Seat, guards, silencers and chainguard all fell apart when I wrenched out their reluctant retaining bolts. I suppose I should be thankful that they hadn't fallen off when I was riding along. All thoughts of keeping the bike original were abandoned. The breaker raided for replacements from more modern iron, which needed some cutting and hammering to make them fit. Amazingly, the original petrol tank still had its internal finish intact, just needed half a dozen dents filled and a quick paint job in black - I did the frame, panels and guards as well.
My attempt at removing the motor was quickly abandoned when one of engine bolts snapped rather than coming undone, they were all rusted firmly in. This was a trick the cunning Japanese had perfected - rather than leave a trail of bolts and bits like old British bikes did, all the screws simply corroded in their threads. Brilliant until you tried to remove them! As a sop to the engine's great age, I did pay £75 for a motor that had last been used on the race track, promised high-lift cams and heavy-duty pistons. It turned over still so must be okay. I never did get to fit it.
The alloy rot on the engine (couldn't remove it even with a wire-brush) and rust on the spokes spoilt the gleaming paint somewhat but it was way ahead of the old dog I'd been running around on beforehand. The first test of its redeemed nature was the MOT, which it flew through. This happy state lasted all of six days when the back wheel's bearings started knocking. Before the wheel went, the handling wasn't that bad as unlike the 750 version it only weighed a touch over 400lbs and had stable geometry. The suspension was marginal but it didn't seem to matter on a bike with an engine that felt close to exploding if I tried to do more than 90mph. In fact, it just didn't want to rev that high.
Back home, I took the rear wheel out. Emptied a carcinogenic amount of asbestos out of the rear drum and then had some fun knocking out the old bearings. One nearly broken finger later I had two old bearings and, erm, a cracked drum hub! This must be common because all the breakers I contacted found the request hilarious, told me not a chance. A bit of alloy welding filled in the hairline cracks and the new bearings went in without too much trauma. A couple of spokes looked a bit thin with the corrosion but what the hell, a little bit of danger does no one any harm, does it?
The feeling that the bike was gently corroding away beneath me was hard to ignore when two months later, with 71000 miles on the clock, the handling turned the CB into a three legged buffalo trying to walk on ice. Icy was how the blood in my veins went as I fought the bike through the curve, eyeing the stone wall with some fear. With a final twitch we came to a halt in the middle of the road. I was, again, thankful for the AA - one of the shocks' studs had sheared off, leaving the bike with a BMW-like mono-shock arrangement, save that the remaining shock had neither the damping nor springing to cope.
The whole rear subframe appeared to be rusting from the inside out - already, my new paint job was speckled with corrosion. Some artful welding with steel plate reinforced the back end, as well as adding a new stud for the shock. The old one was still intact despite bouncing up and down on its remaining stud. However, the forces involved had battered the swinging arm bearings into submission, leaving the handling as bad as it could get without actually throwing the rider off.
The spindle didn't want to come out - what a surprise. Penetrating oil was left to work overnight with little effect. A can of WD40 went west, still the damn thing didn't want to come free. A sledgehammer was borrowed and put into the hands of a friend who could pass as a Sumo wrestler. Half an hour later, the bent and battered spindle dropped out. My guess, it was put in bent to begin with! It took a week to track down a replacement - old Honda spares are getting rare on the ground.
Three months riding followed with just the odd oil change and tyre kicking session. Then the starting became difficult, meaning I had to take the carbs and filter apart. The latter was original, as far as I could tell, full of crud. As it looked difficult to put back on I dumped it, bound to match the straight-thru mega's I'd fitted. I fiddled around with the float heights, as per Haynes, and cleaned the airways out with an air-hose. Bunged it all back together, after an hour's hassle, and she fired up fine.
Two days later, the speedo drive broke and the front wheel's bearings started clacking. I decided that the Honda was just too old to keep bothering with. I fixed it up, sold it for £500 to some total enthusiast, despite the fact he was moaning about all the non-standard components. Beneath its shine it was basically still a rat bike! Most others are in the same state.
I.R.
****************************************************
****************************************************
The fire bloomed under the seat as I was waltzing along at about 70mph. The first I knew of it was the engine cutting out, the breeze carrying the fumes out behind the bike. I'd begun to wonder about the flashing lights, frantic finger pointing and avalanche of horns. The hard shoulder beckoned. The twenty year old bike had basically been run into the ground over 67000 miles. Five owners, my own tenure lasting three weeks. It was a case of pass the rat and I was the unlucky idiot who'd been left with the mess. My foolishness didn't extend to ignoring AA membership.
The exact cause of the fire was difficult to determine. It could've been the split battery that might just be the original one. It could've been insulation turned hard and rotten. It could've been the rectifier exploding. All I knew was that the underside of the saddle was a mess. Worse still, the alternator turned out dead, a short circuit or age doing for it. A complete electrical rebuild followed.
Whilst I was at it, I did the valve clearances and points. The latter had blackened contacts and the former's rockers didn't look too healthy. But still the engine farted into life after a couple of kicks and settled down to a regular tickover. This despite the four carbs being so worn that I could never balance them - they came in and out of balance to a rhythm all of their own, but the engine was so loose it didn't seem to make much difference!
Back on the road, the bike ran around town and did the odd outing without too many hassles. Clutch drag at traffic lights, occasional cutting out for no apparent reason and indicators that only worked when they were in the mood were minor irritants that were in line with the initial £200 cost of the old four.
Many middle-aged people came up to me, demanding to know why I'd let such a classic motorcycle degenerate like that; a lot of guys must've lusted after them in their youth and there seemed some potential in doing a minor restoration job. It was this, rather than any particular love for the CB which was, at best, mediocre in its performance, that made me do a quick strip down in the front room. For some reason, the neighbours had always been amused by the fact that I parked the bike in the passageway overnight.
A lot of the bike was held together by rust. Seat, guards, silencers and chainguard all fell apart when I wrenched out their reluctant retaining bolts. I suppose I should be thankful that they hadn't fallen off when I was riding along. All thoughts of keeping the bike original were abandoned. The breaker raided for replacements from more modern iron, which needed some cutting and hammering to make them fit. Amazingly, the original petrol tank still had its internal finish intact, just needed half a dozen dents filled and a quick paint job in black - I did the frame, panels and guards as well.
My attempt at removing the motor was quickly abandoned when one of engine bolts snapped rather than coming undone, they were all rusted firmly in. This was a trick the cunning Japanese had perfected - rather than leave a trail of bolts and bits like old British bikes did, all the screws simply corroded in their threads. Brilliant until you tried to remove them! As a sop to the engine's great age, I did pay £75 for a motor that had last been used on the race track, promised high-lift cams and heavy-duty pistons. It turned over still so must be okay. I never did get to fit it.
The alloy rot on the engine (couldn't remove it even with a wire-brush) and rust on the spokes spoilt the gleaming paint somewhat but it was way ahead of the old dog I'd been running around on beforehand. The first test of its redeemed nature was the MOT, which it flew through. This happy state lasted all of six days when the back wheel's bearings started knocking. Before the wheel went, the handling wasn't that bad as unlike the 750 version it only weighed a touch over 400lbs and had stable geometry. The suspension was marginal but it didn't seem to matter on a bike with an engine that felt close to exploding if I tried to do more than 90mph. In fact, it just didn't want to rev that high.
Back home, I took the rear wheel out. Emptied a carcinogenic amount of asbestos out of the rear drum and then had some fun knocking out the old bearings. One nearly broken finger later I had two old bearings and, erm, a cracked drum hub! This must be common because all the breakers I contacted found the request hilarious, told me not a chance. A bit of alloy welding filled in the hairline cracks and the new bearings went in without too much trauma. A couple of spokes looked a bit thin with the corrosion but what the hell, a little bit of danger does no one any harm, does it?
The feeling that the bike was gently corroding away beneath me was hard to ignore when two months later, with 71000 miles on the clock, the handling turned the CB into a three legged buffalo trying to walk on ice. Icy was how the blood in my veins went as I fought the bike through the curve, eyeing the stone wall with some fear. With a final twitch we came to a halt in the middle of the road. I was, again, thankful for the AA - one of the shocks' studs had sheared off, leaving the bike with a BMW-like mono-shock arrangement, save that the remaining shock had neither the damping nor springing to cope.
The whole rear subframe appeared to be rusting from the inside out - already, my new paint job was speckled with corrosion. Some artful welding with steel plate reinforced the back end, as well as adding a new stud for the shock. The old one was still intact despite bouncing up and down on its remaining stud. However, the forces involved had battered the swinging arm bearings into submission, leaving the handling as bad as it could get without actually throwing the rider off.
The spindle didn't want to come out - what a surprise. Penetrating oil was left to work overnight with little effect. A can of WD40 went west, still the damn thing didn't want to come free. A sledgehammer was borrowed and put into the hands of a friend who could pass as a Sumo wrestler. Half an hour later, the bent and battered spindle dropped out. My guess, it was put in bent to begin with! It took a week to track down a replacement - old Honda spares are getting rare on the ground.
Three months riding followed with just the odd oil change and tyre kicking session. Then the starting became difficult, meaning I had to take the carbs and filter apart. The latter was original, as far as I could tell, full of crud. As it looked difficult to put back on I dumped it, bound to match the straight-thru mega's I'd fitted. I fiddled around with the float heights, as per Haynes, and cleaned the airways out with an air-hose. Bunged it all back together, after an hour's hassle, and she fired up fine.
Two days later, the speedo drive broke and the front wheel's bearings started clacking. I decided that the Honda was just too old to keep bothering with. I fixed it up, sold it for £500 to some total enthusiast, despite the fact he was moaning about all the non-standard components. Beneath its shine it was basically still a rat bike! Most others are in the same state.
I.R.
****************************************************
I had some compassion for the CB when it started to misfire. It was loaded with tons of camping gear, my own twenty stones and had over 30,000 miles on its tired if entirely stock engine. The compassion didn't extend to laughter as the engine went as dead as the hedgehog I'd run over a few miles back. The forks had gone into a paroxysm that only died out when I used what was left of the front brake power.
Any well travelled ten year old bike has the occasional right to failure. There wasn't any spark getting through to the plugs. The coils had gone, a nearby car accessory shop provided some replacements, although I had to relocate them as they were somewhat bigger than the originals. The points had always been a bit marginal - well, they consisted of a mixture of Halford's cheapest and the originals plus a dose of Araldite. It was a lot cheaper to set them up every 500 miles than pay out for a set of originals.
The electric starter just made funny noises, but the Honda was old enough to have a kickstart. It usually roared into life first or second kick. Except when moisture hit the wiring, when a dose of WD40 was necessary. The coils' demise was my first on the road failure. I'd only owned the bike for six months then.
It was a bit of a mixed bag. The chassis seemed solid enough, the engine whirred away merrily but never actually put much power on the road. Honda claimed 50 horses but its lack of power band and vibes suggested a much milder power plant. Still, it would crack the ton and would cruise at 85mph.
The coil hiatus was the first time I'd taken it for a long ride. For the next couple of days I worried that something more complex and therefore expensive would fail. However, after a fault free week of enjoying myself in the Scottish Highlands my faith in the Honda was restored. The CB500 only weighed 420lbs, which might be nothing special now but was good going for an across the frame four in the mid-seventies. Consequently, with Girlings out back and British tyres, it could be slung around Scottish roads with the only worry being the stand prongs digging into the tarmac. Grin City!
Droning back down to England the second failure occurred. The engine stuttered and died a death. A strong smell of petrol rose up from the motor. Before the bike was drowned in gas I turned off the petrol tap. The fuel hose had fallen off. I robbed some wire that was holding one of the fork gaiters in place (fitted them after I'd had to fit new seals).
Onwards! The stock riding position was ruined by forward mounted footrests, but the bars were a nice flat, narrow shape. I'd soon fitted some rear-sets, which just left a seat with minimal padding (it might've been okay when new but I doubted it) which I didn't replace until the base rotted through. An old 2:4 job proved good for 250 miles of riding before the pain set in; the stock one had me squirming after 75 miles. It was possible to use the pillion rests to stretch out, something someone over 5'10" would need to do as the CB500 is as compact as many a Jap 250.
The next problem I had with the Honda was with a disintegrating 4-4 stock exhaust. It was an original unit so had probably been there since new. Rotting baffles didn't upset the carburation just made enough noise to make young coppers go manic. I kept patching them up for a while until I picked up a secondhand Dunstall 4-2 system. This had a few spots of rust, went on with a couple of appropriate taps from the hammer and some five years later is just about ready to fall off.
The engine is still basically stock, having had a rebore and valve job at 63,500 miles and a camchain and tensioner at 44000 miles. Honda will still provide spares but most things take a month or so to arrive from Japan, so it pays to plan ahead. My solution was to buy a couple of non-runners for spares. Not as cheap as they should be but I feel a lot happier with the stash of spares in my garage.
The OHC unit is easy to work on, just like two Honda twins put together. The only difficult bit is putting the four pistons into the cylinders. I was quite impressed with the alloy quality, didn't encounter any stripped threads. The crankshaft and gears looked like they were brand new.....which made the cantankerous gearbox all the stranger. Most old Hondas are like that, you either adapt to them or buy something else. I only have a problem with the first to second change, which usually puts the box into neutral. Except under severe circumstances I take off in second - the engine does not seem to object (the clutch is still original).
Apart from the above, town riding was no problem, the CB500 able to keep up with most other bikes and show cars a clean pair of exhausts. For extensive commuting I leave the box in second, to avoid the clutch drag which happens when the motor's been in traffic for over an hour. The oil goes a murky colour quite quickly when the bike is used in town a lot, so gets changed every 500 mile. Paranoid? Maybe, but I put down a lot of the Honda's durability to frequent oil changes.
It hasn't had an easy life under my hands. Ridden through the winters, commuted to work, used for fun in the evenings and over the weekends; plunged into long holiday rides up and down the country.
It's even done an End to End run. That would've gone fine had not a summer rainfall lasted for two days. Both the Honda and I were like drowned rats. The four kept turning into a triple and twin, sudden power pulses testing the rear end's integrity. I had to stay in a hotel for a night to dry out. The poor old Honda was consigned to the gutter but started first kick the next day, probably as thankful as myself that the sun was shining again. Top speed was 110mph, but it needed a downhill section to achieve it and I felt more than 90mph for anything longer than a few moments was pushing my luck.
Even on a long hard run, fuel stayed constant at 50mpg. Even when the carbs were out of balance economy didn't dive down. On the rebuilt engine, during the first gentle couple of hundred miles it achieved 60mpg but never repeated that feat at any other time. As the other consumables lasted so long I never made a conscious effort to derive exact mileages, I could live with the marginal efficiency of the engine. It was probably the frictional losses involved in turning over all those moving parts that stopped it being as efficient as an old Brit 500 twin.
Whilst power output could be accurately described as bland, I never found the bike boring to ride. This wasn't because I was always waiting for something to go wrong. I wasn't, the bike had continued to impress me by doing high mileages without any major hassles. No, I suppose what appealed to me about the CB was that over time I had made many an inexpensive modification so that it became more and more perfectly tailored to my needs. If I bought a new bike I'd have to start all over again.
Some mods were merely down to substandard or quick wear original equipment. The headlamp was so useless at night that it didn't take long for a halogen unit to double forward illumination. The wheels were so rusty they ruined the overall appearance of the bike (which was good as I'd resprayed the tank and frame). Alloy rims and new spokes were fitted; as a reward for my diligence, checking the wheel bearings I found them due for replacement, thus saving me an on the road embarrassment. By the time I'd finished just about every component on the bike had been given a good going over.
The CB500's a nice bike still available in reasonable nick for well under a thousand notes. It does everything I want. Why change it?
G.K.L
****************************************************
Any well travelled ten year old bike has the occasional right to failure. There wasn't any spark getting through to the plugs. The coils had gone, a nearby car accessory shop provided some replacements, although I had to relocate them as they were somewhat bigger than the originals. The points had always been a bit marginal - well, they consisted of a mixture of Halford's cheapest and the originals plus a dose of Araldite. It was a lot cheaper to set them up every 500 miles than pay out for a set of originals.
The electric starter just made funny noises, but the Honda was old enough to have a kickstart. It usually roared into life first or second kick. Except when moisture hit the wiring, when a dose of WD40 was necessary. The coils' demise was my first on the road failure. I'd only owned the bike for six months then.
It was a bit of a mixed bag. The chassis seemed solid enough, the engine whirred away merrily but never actually put much power on the road. Honda claimed 50 horses but its lack of power band and vibes suggested a much milder power plant. Still, it would crack the ton and would cruise at 85mph.
The coil hiatus was the first time I'd taken it for a long ride. For the next couple of days I worried that something more complex and therefore expensive would fail. However, after a fault free week of enjoying myself in the Scottish Highlands my faith in the Honda was restored. The CB500 only weighed 420lbs, which might be nothing special now but was good going for an across the frame four in the mid-seventies. Consequently, with Girlings out back and British tyres, it could be slung around Scottish roads with the only worry being the stand prongs digging into the tarmac. Grin City!
Droning back down to England the second failure occurred. The engine stuttered and died a death. A strong smell of petrol rose up from the motor. Before the bike was drowned in gas I turned off the petrol tap. The fuel hose had fallen off. I robbed some wire that was holding one of the fork gaiters in place (fitted them after I'd had to fit new seals).
Onwards! The stock riding position was ruined by forward mounted footrests, but the bars were a nice flat, narrow shape. I'd soon fitted some rear-sets, which just left a seat with minimal padding (it might've been okay when new but I doubted it) which I didn't replace until the base rotted through. An old 2:4 job proved good for 250 miles of riding before the pain set in; the stock one had me squirming after 75 miles. It was possible to use the pillion rests to stretch out, something someone over 5'10" would need to do as the CB500 is as compact as many a Jap 250.
The next problem I had with the Honda was with a disintegrating 4-4 stock exhaust. It was an original unit so had probably been there since new. Rotting baffles didn't upset the carburation just made enough noise to make young coppers go manic. I kept patching them up for a while until I picked up a secondhand Dunstall 4-2 system. This had a few spots of rust, went on with a couple of appropriate taps from the hammer and some five years later is just about ready to fall off.
The engine is still basically stock, having had a rebore and valve job at 63,500 miles and a camchain and tensioner at 44000 miles. Honda will still provide spares but most things take a month or so to arrive from Japan, so it pays to plan ahead. My solution was to buy a couple of non-runners for spares. Not as cheap as they should be but I feel a lot happier with the stash of spares in my garage.
The OHC unit is easy to work on, just like two Honda twins put together. The only difficult bit is putting the four pistons into the cylinders. I was quite impressed with the alloy quality, didn't encounter any stripped threads. The crankshaft and gears looked like they were brand new.....which made the cantankerous gearbox all the stranger. Most old Hondas are like that, you either adapt to them or buy something else. I only have a problem with the first to second change, which usually puts the box into neutral. Except under severe circumstances I take off in second - the engine does not seem to object (the clutch is still original).
Apart from the above, town riding was no problem, the CB500 able to keep up with most other bikes and show cars a clean pair of exhausts. For extensive commuting I leave the box in second, to avoid the clutch drag which happens when the motor's been in traffic for over an hour. The oil goes a murky colour quite quickly when the bike is used in town a lot, so gets changed every 500 mile. Paranoid? Maybe, but I put down a lot of the Honda's durability to frequent oil changes.
It hasn't had an easy life under my hands. Ridden through the winters, commuted to work, used for fun in the evenings and over the weekends; plunged into long holiday rides up and down the country.
It's even done an End to End run. That would've gone fine had not a summer rainfall lasted for two days. Both the Honda and I were like drowned rats. The four kept turning into a triple and twin, sudden power pulses testing the rear end's integrity. I had to stay in a hotel for a night to dry out. The poor old Honda was consigned to the gutter but started first kick the next day, probably as thankful as myself that the sun was shining again. Top speed was 110mph, but it needed a downhill section to achieve it and I felt more than 90mph for anything longer than a few moments was pushing my luck.
Even on a long hard run, fuel stayed constant at 50mpg. Even when the carbs were out of balance economy didn't dive down. On the rebuilt engine, during the first gentle couple of hundred miles it achieved 60mpg but never repeated that feat at any other time. As the other consumables lasted so long I never made a conscious effort to derive exact mileages, I could live with the marginal efficiency of the engine. It was probably the frictional losses involved in turning over all those moving parts that stopped it being as efficient as an old Brit 500 twin.
Whilst power output could be accurately described as bland, I never found the bike boring to ride. This wasn't because I was always waiting for something to go wrong. I wasn't, the bike had continued to impress me by doing high mileages without any major hassles. No, I suppose what appealed to me about the CB was that over time I had made many an inexpensive modification so that it became more and more perfectly tailored to my needs. If I bought a new bike I'd have to start all over again.
Some mods were merely down to substandard or quick wear original equipment. The headlamp was so useless at night that it didn't take long for a halogen unit to double forward illumination. The wheels were so rusty they ruined the overall appearance of the bike (which was good as I'd resprayed the tank and frame). Alloy rims and new spokes were fitted; as a reward for my diligence, checking the wheel bearings I found them due for replacement, thus saving me an on the road embarrassment. By the time I'd finished just about every component on the bike had been given a good going over.
The CB500's a nice bike still available in reasonable nick for well under a thousand notes. It does everything I want. Why change it?
G.K.L
****************************************************
The Honda CB500/4 has some adherents who believe it's at the forefront of the new classics (another word for old Jap bikes that just happen to look butch). Luckily, the vendor wasn't one of them. He was your average grunge biker with a rat motorcycle for sale. I didn't mind, I even got used to the smell pretty quick, the Honda sounded a lot better than it looked and I knew where there was another one with a good chassis and dead motor. The test ride could best be described as dangerous as a holiday in Soweto.
In a day I bought two CB500's for less than 250 notes and in a weekend I'd combined the best of the two into one cycle that I could sell for £600 to £750. Mind you, I desisted from keeping the bike entirely stock, preferring functional suspension to pure originality and a light that actually lit up the road ahead.
The original plot was a quick buy and sell routine to help fund my marriage but a few hours on the Honda convinced me that it was worth holding on to for a while. Whilst the engine lacked guts, was as bland as you could make a four cylinder motor and seemed to have a lot less than 50 horses, the overall impression was of a bike that was very easy to ride; even the gearbox was slick, a rarity on Hondas of this vintage. I rather went off the future wife when she couldn't see the righteousness of my decision; in the end we went our separate ways. From what I hear she turned out vulture-like and the Honda saved me a deal of tears.
I was soon terrorising the peds and cagers in Manchester, the Honda taking, in its stride, the odd bash along the pavement. The bellow out of the four into one exhaust had the plod stood at attention but I ignored their gesticulations, happy that I had yet to register the bike in my name. The key was never to stop long enough for them to get you.
At one point I had a jam-sandwich on my tail, wailing away and wobbling all over the road - you'd think they'd have better things to do. In the mirror I could see the plod mobile threatening to run other cars off the road as it tried to keep up with me. Unbelievable what some of these cops will do to keep their ego up
I knew the area well. Sharp left, accelerate hard, stomp the brakes, almost skid sideways up the pavement to twist around a lamp-post and roar off down a narrow alleyway. No way the car could follow, no way they could plot which route I'd take out. Mind you, I almost ran down a toddler on a tricycle, ended up missing him and sending his bike flying. I left him in tears, worried that maybe a cop was running after me.
Not long after that little sortie into delinquency I had the front mudguard fall off. They rust from the underneath, the first you know of their demise is a few bubbles of broken chrome by the bracket. I ignored that, was paid back by the front wheel having a fighting match with the guard and its brackets. Felt like slamming into a big pothole. Luck was on my side, as it usually is, the guard was more rust than metal and the wheel won the fight.
I could easily have attached a new guard but I liked the naked look. An infatuation that only lasted until it rained for the first time. Great waves of water sprayed up from the road, covering both bike and I in grit, gunge and grease. The water also caused the engine to cough and splutter. With a guard fitted ten layers of silicone on the coils were needed to prevent misfiring. It's worth test riding in the wet because some examples will cut-out whatever you do to protect the ignition circuit. Most bikes that have survived this long will have been fixed.
One of the few moments of joy experienced was when the seat came loose. This wasn't because I like having my balls bounced on the frame but because my pillion was thrown off the back. He was one of those sad cases, always bumming rides rather than buying his own bike. He sort of wheedled and wormed his way on to the saddle. After the 30mph meeting with the tarmac he never bothered me again. The saddle base had gone the same way as the guard. They look okay until suddenly the rust had eaten away the majority of the metal. Then bang!
The Japanese had such a poor reputation for their metal ancillaries that when they switched to plastic there was a great sigh of relief. Any bike of this era's going to be rusting before your eyes unless you've replaced all the vulnerable bits. Rather sad, really, as a lot of sixties Brits are still running on their original metal. So much for aspirations to being a classic.
My infatuation with the bike lasted for about 4500 when the camchain broke. Somehow the valves didn't tangle but I had to strip the engine down to the crankcases to recover the bits of camchain. There were a few teeth missing off the gears; an outrage as I probably had the only decent gearchange left from the seventies. That was because the selectors looked new. The gears in the other mill were far gone and I couldn't find any cheap replacements.
The reassembled engine had a horrible noise in second and third gear, like something out of a tank. Performance was poor and oil leaks plentiful but the thing still ran. I started looking for a replacement engine - the truth about Japanese mills is that once they wear beyond a certain point the best thing you can do is throw them in the nearest skip. They don't react at all well to repeated rebuilds.
Meanwhile I kept running the CB, if grinding along with a top whack of 70mph can be thus described. The vibes were pounding through the chassis, bad enough to start petrol leaking out of the tank. I was hoping it'd go up in flames, I was a good enough citizen to want to provide amusement for the peds in the city centre.
A mate with a welding torch managed to do the seams but left some ugly blobs of weld over the tank that weren't entirely covered by a couple of cans of matt black paint. Well, he did it for free and in a hurry, threatening to knee-cap me if the whole lot went up in a ball of flame and ruined his garage.
No engines turned up so I pulled the motor apart again. Erm, put the rings on the right way around and got the valve timing right this time! A couple of tubes of Hermatite and brute force on the head studs removed most of the oil leaks. Performance was much improved and there were no untoward noises. Thrash and bash for another couple of thousand miles of fun and games.
I had absolutely no faith in the longevity of the engine, only used the bike for short distances. Someone offered me 400 notes at a bike show and I knew where there was a good CX500 for £300, so it seemed like a reasonable scam.
Don't be put off by this tale of woe, there are still a few nice CB500's on offer, albeit at £500 to £750, and in nice shape they are perfectly reasonable motorcycles. Not brilliant and not a classic but a good hack.
C.L.
In a day I bought two CB500's for less than 250 notes and in a weekend I'd combined the best of the two into one cycle that I could sell for £600 to £750. Mind you, I desisted from keeping the bike entirely stock, preferring functional suspension to pure originality and a light that actually lit up the road ahead.
The original plot was a quick buy and sell routine to help fund my marriage but a few hours on the Honda convinced me that it was worth holding on to for a while. Whilst the engine lacked guts, was as bland as you could make a four cylinder motor and seemed to have a lot less than 50 horses, the overall impression was of a bike that was very easy to ride; even the gearbox was slick, a rarity on Hondas of this vintage. I rather went off the future wife when she couldn't see the righteousness of my decision; in the end we went our separate ways. From what I hear she turned out vulture-like and the Honda saved me a deal of tears.
I was soon terrorising the peds and cagers in Manchester, the Honda taking, in its stride, the odd bash along the pavement. The bellow out of the four into one exhaust had the plod stood at attention but I ignored their gesticulations, happy that I had yet to register the bike in my name. The key was never to stop long enough for them to get you.
At one point I had a jam-sandwich on my tail, wailing away and wobbling all over the road - you'd think they'd have better things to do. In the mirror I could see the plod mobile threatening to run other cars off the road as it tried to keep up with me. Unbelievable what some of these cops will do to keep their ego up
I knew the area well. Sharp left, accelerate hard, stomp the brakes, almost skid sideways up the pavement to twist around a lamp-post and roar off down a narrow alleyway. No way the car could follow, no way they could plot which route I'd take out. Mind you, I almost ran down a toddler on a tricycle, ended up missing him and sending his bike flying. I left him in tears, worried that maybe a cop was running after me.
Not long after that little sortie into delinquency I had the front mudguard fall off. They rust from the underneath, the first you know of their demise is a few bubbles of broken chrome by the bracket. I ignored that, was paid back by the front wheel having a fighting match with the guard and its brackets. Felt like slamming into a big pothole. Luck was on my side, as it usually is, the guard was more rust than metal and the wheel won the fight.
I could easily have attached a new guard but I liked the naked look. An infatuation that only lasted until it rained for the first time. Great waves of water sprayed up from the road, covering both bike and I in grit, gunge and grease. The water also caused the engine to cough and splutter. With a guard fitted ten layers of silicone on the coils were needed to prevent misfiring. It's worth test riding in the wet because some examples will cut-out whatever you do to protect the ignition circuit. Most bikes that have survived this long will have been fixed.
One of the few moments of joy experienced was when the seat came loose. This wasn't because I like having my balls bounced on the frame but because my pillion was thrown off the back. He was one of those sad cases, always bumming rides rather than buying his own bike. He sort of wheedled and wormed his way on to the saddle. After the 30mph meeting with the tarmac he never bothered me again. The saddle base had gone the same way as the guard. They look okay until suddenly the rust had eaten away the majority of the metal. Then bang!
The Japanese had such a poor reputation for their metal ancillaries that when they switched to plastic there was a great sigh of relief. Any bike of this era's going to be rusting before your eyes unless you've replaced all the vulnerable bits. Rather sad, really, as a lot of sixties Brits are still running on their original metal. So much for aspirations to being a classic.
My infatuation with the bike lasted for about 4500 when the camchain broke. Somehow the valves didn't tangle but I had to strip the engine down to the crankcases to recover the bits of camchain. There were a few teeth missing off the gears; an outrage as I probably had the only decent gearchange left from the seventies. That was because the selectors looked new. The gears in the other mill were far gone and I couldn't find any cheap replacements.
The reassembled engine had a horrible noise in second and third gear, like something out of a tank. Performance was poor and oil leaks plentiful but the thing still ran. I started looking for a replacement engine - the truth about Japanese mills is that once they wear beyond a certain point the best thing you can do is throw them in the nearest skip. They don't react at all well to repeated rebuilds.
Meanwhile I kept running the CB, if grinding along with a top whack of 70mph can be thus described. The vibes were pounding through the chassis, bad enough to start petrol leaking out of the tank. I was hoping it'd go up in flames, I was a good enough citizen to want to provide amusement for the peds in the city centre.
A mate with a welding torch managed to do the seams but left some ugly blobs of weld over the tank that weren't entirely covered by a couple of cans of matt black paint. Well, he did it for free and in a hurry, threatening to knee-cap me if the whole lot went up in a ball of flame and ruined his garage.
No engines turned up so I pulled the motor apart again. Erm, put the rings on the right way around and got the valve timing right this time! A couple of tubes of Hermatite and brute force on the head studs removed most of the oil leaks. Performance was much improved and there were no untoward noises. Thrash and bash for another couple of thousand miles of fun and games.
I had absolutely no faith in the longevity of the engine, only used the bike for short distances. Someone offered me 400 notes at a bike show and I knew where there was a good CX500 for £300, so it seemed like a reasonable scam.
Don't be put off by this tale of woe, there are still a few nice CB500's on offer, albeit at £500 to £750, and in nice shape they are perfectly reasonable motorcycles. Not brilliant and not a classic but a good hack.
C.L.