I didn't want to buy a Honda CB650 Nighthawk! But then neither did anyone else. In terms of mileage and condition it was a bargain buy, at least in Manchester during a biking boom. The bike was ancient but had only had two owners and done 13,400 miles. I sat on it, felt all wrong - huge bars, forward mounted pegs, silly custom seat. I made an half-hearted offer which was immediately accepted. Shit!
My riding buddies had hot devices like CBR's and heavily modded GSX11's. The latter's owner was completely mad, tucking his two small kids to the front and back of him (no helmets!) and blasting around the town! The cops went berserk, unable to catch him they made appeals on the local news. In Blair's England, any non-conformance is greeted with total dismay, even if in this case most people would lynch him for risking the lives of his innocent kids.
The CB650 was totally out of place in such company but its comfortable pillion perch meant I had a long line of men and women wanting to hitch a lift! I tagged along way behind the hard boys but didn't arrive that much later than them and was still able to walk! Some of guys looked like aged cripples, yet were less than thirty years of age! Comfort was the Honda's main attribute.
Power wasn't something it knew much about. The aircooled OHC four cylinder motor neither revved hard nor poured out any compensatory torque lower down the range. The motor was loosely based on the old CB500 four, its development not that major - judging by the levels of secondary vibes above seven thousand revs and the crunchy, vague gearbox. Nothing that someone used to this era of Honda fours would be surprised by.
Comstar wheels with a single front disc provided some moments of amusement. My riding technique is to ride up to bends at maximum thrust, slam the brakes on hard and whack the bike right over. The wheels actually felt like they were distorting, the calipers yowled in protest and I had a fifty percent chance of overshooting the line. Despite the custom styling and geometry, I was able to pull the Honda back on to line with the brakes still on - those wide, wide bars giving unexpected leverage.
Despite the low mileage, the front disc was already looking a bit on the thin side, would ring when really abused! The forks and shocks were relatively stiff (probably upgraded), so I wasn't inclined to fit a whole new front end off something more modern.
I didn't really like the bike but I couldn't actually call it bad. It was the piss-taking from so-called mates that I couldn't take. Not a total disaster, sold it for twice what I paid via MCN. A mate sold me his CBR400 for a song as the engine was knocking. Rather than the crankshaft being on the way out it was only the clutch bearings, a relatively cheap fix.
I was laughing... all the way to the nearest hospital. The chassis was so taut and forgiving that I thought I could get away with murder. I high-sided the bike (quite a feat on a 70hp motorcycle) and broke my leg! Six months later I was able to ride a motorcycle again, but not the CBR which had scrapped itself and disappeared into the police's system for wrecked vehicles. It wasn't worth reminding them of my existence as they had, fortunately, forgotten to demand a document check.
As it happens, another CB650 Nighthawk was on offer in the local rag. Older but lower mileage, I went along for a look after the advert had been repeated for a few weeks. Another lovingly cared for example of a breed no-one really wanted to buy. I made an even sillier offer than for the first one and actually had to haggle this time. Still, 600 notes for a 9000 miler without a speck of rust can't be bad, can it?
Not wanting to be the bane of silly jokes, a visit to the local breaker was in order. Flat bars and rear-sets from his pile of junk. With the cute 4-4 standard exhaust system, fitting the rear-sets proved difficult but a few well placed taps with my favourite hammer sorted things. These two mod's transformed the whole feel of the machine but weren't the end of the alterations.
The suspension was soggy and the front brake close to useless. The breaker had stronger springs and a caliper/disc off something else that looked like they might fit. A used pair of Koni shocks finished off the transformation. The bike was almost racer taut, braked well and could be thrown through the corners until the exhaust dug in. The latter was made from fairly soft steel and wouldn't dig in violently - took three weeks to put a bloody big hole in the exhaust. A bit of welding fixed it.
Another mod was a two tooth bigger gearbox sprocket when I had to replace the old chain and sprockets - I don't think they were amused with my take-off technique that involved max revs, clutch slip and application of the front brake until the power had really built up! The taller gearing meant slightly slower take-offs but now top gear felt much more useful, no more revving out. Fuel improved from 50 to 60mpg!
On the old gearing the engine was revving with a frenzy at 105mph in top gear, with the taller gearing it would top out at 115mph and, more importantly, cruise at a relatively relaxed if somewhat vibratory
90-100mph! The bike was still dog slow compared to any modern motorcycle of reasonable capacity but ridden with a disregard for personal (or anyone else's) safety it could be a surprisingly rapid way of getting from A to B.
The offer of another CBR, one of the early 600's, meant the CB650 had to go. Went for a grand to a vague acquaintance, who used to a Superdream thought the 650 extremely powerful and neat. Eleven hundred quid, thank you very much. The CBR had 67000 miles on the clock and a worn gearbox right out of your worst nightmares!
I blame the poor gearchange for wrecking the bike. Charging out of a bend under max throttle I changed up to fourth only to find a false neutral, the sudden lack of power unhinging the back end and sending the bike off the road. Into a brick wall. I was thrown over the wall into a soggy and therefore soft field. No broken bones this time, just one completely wrecked motorcycle.
The owner of the CB650 wasn't getting on with the machine, finding its highly placed mass quite hard to hustle through the curves. Did I want to buy the bike back? Sorry mate, only got seven hundred quid to my name. That will do, said he, so I was suckered into ownership of the Nighthawk again. The chap had kept his Superdream and seemed much happier riding it than the Nighthawk.
Odd as it might seem, I never fell off or crashed the Nighthawks. The modern stuff feels so competent that they demand massive liberties and eventually bite back with little warning. The CB650 shakes, rattles and rolls but tells you to back off before it goes completely terminal. Maybe I'm so used to old hacks that I can't adapt to the sheer superiority of wide, low profile and ultra sticky tyres.
A brief ride on an R1 seemed to confirm this. I'd seen the rider getting his knee down whilst accelerating at an unlikely rate, leaving everyone in sight for dead. Yet, when I swung a leg over the beast nothing felt right and I went through the bends in a series of jerks rather than in a smooth, controlled manner. Used to muscular inputs, the R1 needed so little effort that I kept putting in too much violence! I suggested to the owner that I borrow the bike for a long weekend to get used to its way, but my reputation for wrecking anything vaguely modern preceded me!
A complicated bit of financial skulduggery allowed me to sign up for a used Kawasaki ZX-10. A big brute of a motorcycle with so much power I could shred a back tyre in five minutes! I kept the CB650 in reserve. Just as well as every day I came close to killing myself on the massive Kawasaki. Cornering consisted of using all the power and two lanes of highway. Everyone had to get out of the way or else!
After a month I sold the ZX at a profit and went back to the CB650 again, which felt like a moped but I soon got used to it! I still wasn't that keen on the breed but they seemed to suit my riding style perfectly. The CB650 wasn't powerful as such but if you ignored the vibes you could wring the neck off it without the motor blowing up into a million pieces. It was a curiously tough piece of four stroke engineering that only needed the odd oil change and carb balance.
In the next five months I did over 10,000 miles. A mixture of commuting and fun blasts. I found myself setting out for a quick ride and then putting in a couple of hundred miles just for the sheer hell of it. The Honda didn't feel relaxed or particularly stable but then it didn't feel much worse at a ton-ten! Its best point was its comfort and its worst the godawful gearbox, which at least dissuaded friends from borrowing the bike and thieves from nicking it. Rather like an MZ, I never bothered locking it!
The bike was sold at the beginning of winter, at yet another mild profit - those into the ethos of buying cheap and selling dear will do okay with CB650's - and a Z900 bought as a replacement. Makes the Honda feel like it had ace handling and very little power. I surprised everyone by not falling off the Kawasaki - myself included! But I've just seen another advert for a cheap but prime CB650 (they do attract the sensible, mature owner types) and someone has made me a very nice offer for the classic Kawasaki. By the time you read this I may be back in the CB650 cycle!
My riding buddies had hot devices like CBR's and heavily modded GSX11's. The latter's owner was completely mad, tucking his two small kids to the front and back of him (no helmets!) and blasting around the town! The cops went berserk, unable to catch him they made appeals on the local news. In Blair's England, any non-conformance is greeted with total dismay, even if in this case most people would lynch him for risking the lives of his innocent kids.
The CB650 was totally out of place in such company but its comfortable pillion perch meant I had a long line of men and women wanting to hitch a lift! I tagged along way behind the hard boys but didn't arrive that much later than them and was still able to walk! Some of guys looked like aged cripples, yet were less than thirty years of age! Comfort was the Honda's main attribute.
Power wasn't something it knew much about. The aircooled OHC four cylinder motor neither revved hard nor poured out any compensatory torque lower down the range. The motor was loosely based on the old CB500 four, its development not that major - judging by the levels of secondary vibes above seven thousand revs and the crunchy, vague gearbox. Nothing that someone used to this era of Honda fours would be surprised by.
Comstar wheels with a single front disc provided some moments of amusement. My riding technique is to ride up to bends at maximum thrust, slam the brakes on hard and whack the bike right over. The wheels actually felt like they were distorting, the calipers yowled in protest and I had a fifty percent chance of overshooting the line. Despite the custom styling and geometry, I was able to pull the Honda back on to line with the brakes still on - those wide, wide bars giving unexpected leverage.
Despite the low mileage, the front disc was already looking a bit on the thin side, would ring when really abused! The forks and shocks were relatively stiff (probably upgraded), so I wasn't inclined to fit a whole new front end off something more modern.
I didn't really like the bike but I couldn't actually call it bad. It was the piss-taking from so-called mates that I couldn't take. Not a total disaster, sold it for twice what I paid via MCN. A mate sold me his CBR400 for a song as the engine was knocking. Rather than the crankshaft being on the way out it was only the clutch bearings, a relatively cheap fix.
I was laughing... all the way to the nearest hospital. The chassis was so taut and forgiving that I thought I could get away with murder. I high-sided the bike (quite a feat on a 70hp motorcycle) and broke my leg! Six months later I was able to ride a motorcycle again, but not the CBR which had scrapped itself and disappeared into the police's system for wrecked vehicles. It wasn't worth reminding them of my existence as they had, fortunately, forgotten to demand a document check.
As it happens, another CB650 Nighthawk was on offer in the local rag. Older but lower mileage, I went along for a look after the advert had been repeated for a few weeks. Another lovingly cared for example of a breed no-one really wanted to buy. I made an even sillier offer than for the first one and actually had to haggle this time. Still, 600 notes for a 9000 miler without a speck of rust can't be bad, can it?
Not wanting to be the bane of silly jokes, a visit to the local breaker was in order. Flat bars and rear-sets from his pile of junk. With the cute 4-4 standard exhaust system, fitting the rear-sets proved difficult but a few well placed taps with my favourite hammer sorted things. These two mod's transformed the whole feel of the machine but weren't the end of the alterations.
The suspension was soggy and the front brake close to useless. The breaker had stronger springs and a caliper/disc off something else that looked like they might fit. A used pair of Koni shocks finished off the transformation. The bike was almost racer taut, braked well and could be thrown through the corners until the exhaust dug in. The latter was made from fairly soft steel and wouldn't dig in violently - took three weeks to put a bloody big hole in the exhaust. A bit of welding fixed it.
Another mod was a two tooth bigger gearbox sprocket when I had to replace the old chain and sprockets - I don't think they were amused with my take-off technique that involved max revs, clutch slip and application of the front brake until the power had really built up! The taller gearing meant slightly slower take-offs but now top gear felt much more useful, no more revving out. Fuel improved from 50 to 60mpg!
On the old gearing the engine was revving with a frenzy at 105mph in top gear, with the taller gearing it would top out at 115mph and, more importantly, cruise at a relatively relaxed if somewhat vibratory
90-100mph! The bike was still dog slow compared to any modern motorcycle of reasonable capacity but ridden with a disregard for personal (or anyone else's) safety it could be a surprisingly rapid way of getting from A to B.
The offer of another CBR, one of the early 600's, meant the CB650 had to go. Went for a grand to a vague acquaintance, who used to a Superdream thought the 650 extremely powerful and neat. Eleven hundred quid, thank you very much. The CBR had 67000 miles on the clock and a worn gearbox right out of your worst nightmares!
I blame the poor gearchange for wrecking the bike. Charging out of a bend under max throttle I changed up to fourth only to find a false neutral, the sudden lack of power unhinging the back end and sending the bike off the road. Into a brick wall. I was thrown over the wall into a soggy and therefore soft field. No broken bones this time, just one completely wrecked motorcycle.
The owner of the CB650 wasn't getting on with the machine, finding its highly placed mass quite hard to hustle through the curves. Did I want to buy the bike back? Sorry mate, only got seven hundred quid to my name. That will do, said he, so I was suckered into ownership of the Nighthawk again. The chap had kept his Superdream and seemed much happier riding it than the Nighthawk.
Odd as it might seem, I never fell off or crashed the Nighthawks. The modern stuff feels so competent that they demand massive liberties and eventually bite back with little warning. The CB650 shakes, rattles and rolls but tells you to back off before it goes completely terminal. Maybe I'm so used to old hacks that I can't adapt to the sheer superiority of wide, low profile and ultra sticky tyres.
A brief ride on an R1 seemed to confirm this. I'd seen the rider getting his knee down whilst accelerating at an unlikely rate, leaving everyone in sight for dead. Yet, when I swung a leg over the beast nothing felt right and I went through the bends in a series of jerks rather than in a smooth, controlled manner. Used to muscular inputs, the R1 needed so little effort that I kept putting in too much violence! I suggested to the owner that I borrow the bike for a long weekend to get used to its way, but my reputation for wrecking anything vaguely modern preceded me!
A complicated bit of financial skulduggery allowed me to sign up for a used Kawasaki ZX-10. A big brute of a motorcycle with so much power I could shred a back tyre in five minutes! I kept the CB650 in reserve. Just as well as every day I came close to killing myself on the massive Kawasaki. Cornering consisted of using all the power and two lanes of highway. Everyone had to get out of the way or else!
After a month I sold the ZX at a profit and went back to the CB650 again, which felt like a moped but I soon got used to it! I still wasn't that keen on the breed but they seemed to suit my riding style perfectly. The CB650 wasn't powerful as such but if you ignored the vibes you could wring the neck off it without the motor blowing up into a million pieces. It was a curiously tough piece of four stroke engineering that only needed the odd oil change and carb balance.
In the next five months I did over 10,000 miles. A mixture of commuting and fun blasts. I found myself setting out for a quick ride and then putting in a couple of hundred miles just for the sheer hell of it. The Honda didn't feel relaxed or particularly stable but then it didn't feel much worse at a ton-ten! Its best point was its comfort and its worst the godawful gearbox, which at least dissuaded friends from borrowing the bike and thieves from nicking it. Rather like an MZ, I never bothered locking it!
The bike was sold at the beginning of winter, at yet another mild profit - those into the ethos of buying cheap and selling dear will do okay with CB650's - and a Z900 bought as a replacement. Makes the Honda feel like it had ace handling and very little power. I surprised everyone by not falling off the Kawasaki - myself included! But I've just seen another advert for a cheap but prime CB650 (they do attract the sensible, mature owner types) and someone has made me a very nice offer for the classic Kawasaki. By the time you read this I may be back in the CB650 cycle!
Alain Farrel