Sit back and allow yourself to imagine it’s that glorious cliche of a typical spring day with an empty road forming a ribbon ahead as it winds its way through the fields and hills. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Anyway, you're not in any particular hurry as you listen to the characteristically lazy off-beat thump of the exhaust, and after a few satisfying bends where you have probably upped the pace a bit it will inevitably, no doubt, be spoilt by coming across a queue of traffic following some caravan or lorry doing around 45mph.
Here your bike can excel itself if you so wish, so you impatiently wait for the opportunity of a break in the oncoming traffic. When the gap appears it's either dropping down a gear for a relaxed overtake in fourth or, better still, a further change down to third, accompanied by rolling back the throttle a bit. Now for the sensation this gives. This time imagine yourself in a bus or coach, and behind you some dear child is rhythmically kicking the underside of your seat with alternate feet, that is the sensation coming through as you wait your chance in third to pull out.
Now the child gets bored, and kicks a bit harder and faster. This is where you change down to third and wind on the throttle. The exhaust note now takes on a very non-PC, business-like, beat that only a V-twin engine can deliver, allowing the speed to increase with ease. As the revs rise each pulse coming up through your seat seems to lessen in kick and individuality as it merges into one another, the exhaust now becomes a trumpet like blare which mixes with the induction roar, to rattle off the sides of the cars you're overtaking. Slowly it trails off to a lovely drone on the overrun as you use the engine braking and a dab of the discs to tuck yourself into a gap.
Welcome to Moto Guzzi‘s 850 Le Mans, the Italian sports-tourer of the seventies. Guzzi‘s early policy was, it seems, that if something works carry on using it... and why not? So after designing an engine to drive a tracked army vehicle several years earlier they then dropped it into a motorbike frame, obviously not an identical unit - though some might uncharitably disagree on this point - but with some overboring a whole range of models emerged.
One being the 850T range, a hotter version of which, with some head, carb and cam work, was the above mentioned Le Mans. My own passion for these bikes started when I parked a Lambretta scooter alongside one 25 odd years ago (I’ve come clean, I’ve owned scooters), two examples of Italian engineering side by side. Unfortunately my half of the equation was not quite so charismatic - an L-plated 150cc two-stroke, but the seeds of lust and longing had been sown.
Unfortunately it was a long-time before it was to germinate, as when I did progress to a motorbike it was my wallet that ruled rather than my heart, so it was lesser makes (Honda) that had my custom first of all. Now the years have moved on, and whilst owning a Yamaha that long forgotten seed sprouted and the memory once again surfaced.
My first big decision was the choice of either going for a Mk1 or a Mk2, as the Mk3 and onwards have the square shaped barrels and were ruled out. These, to my mind, lack the looks of the earlier engines in the same way as a BSA A65 compared to the earlier A10 model.
Initially, the original Mk1 seemed favourite because the half-fairing on the Mk2 is viewed by some to be an unattractive addition, but personally I warmed to it when it was found to be fairly effective for its size, whereas the bikini fairing on the Mk1 seemed more a styling exercise, admittedly successful, but only offering marginal comfort over riding a naked bike; not ideal for a tourer.
Several journeys and many miles later looking at bikes, a Mk2 was found locally - as is always the way. Anyway, first impressions looked favourable, with only one previous owner for the first sixteen years prior to the present one, and it came resprayed in that glorious Guzzi red along with powder coated frame and wheels. Also to give it that genuine feel, the bike came with every MOT from new for all of its 55000 miles.
This mileage, of course, was the downside, its evidence could be heard by the timing chain gently rattling away, but the bike had what I would call potential as basically all seemed in good fettle and it seemed to carry its mileage well. On the first visit a quick glance at the logbook enabled me to remember enough of the last owner’s details, and thanks to directory enquires I had a chat with the guy before making my mind up and parting with the money.
Anyway, the phone call revealed that the Guzzi had been the chap's pride and joy with plenty of TLC lavished on it, and was only sold for a change to a BMW rather than having to because of problems with the bike. So armed with this knowledge it was back again for a ride and a better look, on which the only real trouble to show up was a universal joint on its last legs and a slightly irregular tickover on the left cylinder.
After a fiddle while out riding it, away from the vendor's gaze, I took the view that it was probably carb rather than valve trouble, as there was no telltale backfiring on the overrun, and performance was not noticeably down. Although that can be hard to tell around town on an 130mph bike.
Prior to my testing the Le Mans, the guy selling it told me how the Guzzi had recently taken him to Portugal. Naturally that spoke volumes for the faith the guy had in the Guzzi, if it was the truth. But at the same time I wondered how he got on for both suitable octane and also leaded fuel, hence the concern over possible valve trouble. Because of the origin of these bikes, namely Italy, all parts are imported and consequently can be a bit expensive, so caution is needed when checking them out.
Regarding the carb trouble I was wrong! Whipped the head off and found the exhaust valve with a nice little bit missing. Thankfully the head was good, as these are no longer available, so in the end only a new valve and gasket were needed, along with a new timing chain every thing was assembled for around 60 pounds.
Talking of money, firstly batteries are heavy as in both duty and weight, so are a bit pricey, but as you will have trouble finding the kick-start and also bump starting is out of the question, you will need a good one. Also the back wheel and shaft drive need checking out for oil leaks if ever you fancy buying one.
Remember that worn universal joint I mentioned earlier? Well, that cost nearly a 170 pounds by the time I got some new bearings as well. So if it vibrates through the right footpeg at a particular rev range, on mine that was 4000rpm, then your credit card will get a bashing.
Generator light glowing? Don’t even ask about the price of an alternator. Some major engine parts give the impression they are priced in Lira rather than the pound. You’ve been warned! .
But what do they go like? Well because the bike is a sports-tourer the overall gearing is fairly tall with the five ratios ideally spaced to my own taste, so around town the first four gears are all you really need, fifth being more an overdrive for relaxed high speed touring.
When the carbs are in balance the engine will pull from fairly low revs, though, and will drop to 2000rpm in fifth (40+mph ) with care. But go easy on the throttle at these revs or else the pumper carbs will drown the engine with neat four star. Business really starts to happen with a surge at 3500-4000 rpm and at 5000 it feels like an entirely different bike all the way to 7500, that’s if you feel mechanically sadistic as the bike does now have 60,000 miles on it.
On A-roads the Guzzi can prove great for overtaking; if the inclination takes you, 6000rpm will see about 80mph in third gear, so third and fourth offer great potential. This linked to the fact the engine is a ninety degree V-twin giving minimal vibration, you can still see in your mirrors if you decide to wind her up a bit. Handy for anyone should they ever have to travel at these illegal speeds on the Queen's highway. Thank goodness for our wonderful boys in blue to stop this sort of behaviour.
Interestingly, the vibration is not like vibration as such, as it is not obtrusive, more a feedback to the rider of the engine working away underneath him. This makes you feel part of the experience, so much so that like the sound of the exhaust it would be less of a kick if it was not present.
Bend swinging at most speeds requires minimal input from the rider - more just a shift of body weight and a lean on the bars, but at higher speeds more effort is needed via the clip-ons that these bikes have fitted, to overcome the physics of the corner. Generally, the bike feels very well planted on the road no matter how far you want to lean it, but you can get quite a jolt at times from just a moderate bump when the suspension decides to show its age.
This is mainly the front end as the rear has Koni's fitted, the front having Guzzi's own peculiar sealed units. Shaft reaction in the bends? Well it does happen but you have to be going some, so if this doesn’t get you then no doubt a Volvo or a patch of mud will, so ease off.
Get the right gear and normally it goes round corners as if it's on rails - as the first owner had said to me on the phone that day. Get the wrong gear and commit the cardinal sin of having to change down in the corner (a blip of the throttle is required causing a tip to the right with the torque reaction) and you’ll end up in serious trouble, especially on a right-hander.
Having now had a year's ownership I feel quite happy with the bike, and during this time I’ve managed to attend to numerous small points. For example, fitting lighter throttle springs and making up new bushes for the gear lever and generally removing that looseness that creeps into the controls of an older bike.
The Guzzi gearbox, as most people know, provides a far from perfect example of smooth clunk-free changes, but with a little care the knack can soon be mastered (they clunk less). My other bike, a Yamaha XS650, is clearly the better in the gearbox area, but the same can't be said for the brakes! The single front disc on the Guzzi provides more stopping power than both brakes on the Yamaha. If you add in the Guzzi‘s other two linked brakes at the back and front you find they would probably stand the bike up, although not matching some of the more modern tackle.
Lots of people complain bitterly about the riding position, possibly based on a short ride when at the outset they had in their minds that it was going to be bad. Personally I find the riding position okay for about 130 miles before a stretch - once the lighter throttle springs were fitted; too light and the throttle stays open, believe me!
I’m six foot and have back problems but my arm length allows me to reach the bars okay, but my legs are a bit cramped. The ideal build for someone riding these bikes is the upper body of a six footer with the legs of a five foot eighter, something that the genetic scientists could no doubt solve.
Living with the bike hasn’t presented any real hassles, maintenance not giving any problems if you do it yourself, certainly no awful chain to adjust. But if you rely on paying someone to service it, it will need regular attention to carb balancing and other small items. Here I should mention the very clever engineering feature that Moto Guzzi designed into their bikes to stop the valve clearances going wrong. Your ears!
These are not the quietest engines in the tappet department, in fact some that I heard were contenders for the nosiest. My own is somewhere in the middle, helped no doubt by being the Mk2, unlike its earlier sister, having part of the fairing over the tops of the cylinders and so providing a bit of a shield between you and the noise.
Sadly, at long last it seems we are going to have un-leaded petrol shoved at us, whether we like it or not in the next millennium. So us Guzzi owners are faced with a problem, and the Le Mans with a 10.3:1 compression ratio is faced with a bigger problem. I, of course, knew this when I bought the bike and the sensible part of my brain said you’ll have trouble in the year 2000. But as I, along with most other bike riders, only listen to the daft or the you're-only-here-once side of our brains (about 85% of brain mass) I went ahead and bought her anyway.
Seriously though, the problem won't go away so I think some octane booster from a bottle may be needed if this lead replacement petrol is too low an octane. Talking of petrol I can easily achieve mid 40's in the mpg stakes and I normally return around 50mpg without having to restrain myself too much. I suppose I could do better if I wanted, but what the hell? You can see what side of my brain I’m using here again.
To sum up, if you like the feel and sound of a big British twin, but without the pounding vibes they have; also if you want some serious power for use on a motorway coupled with brilliant handling and brakes - something our British bikes had trouble in doing - then get a Guzzi. Of course they have faults like all bikes - clunky box, fiddly switches, dodgy wiring in places and front suspension that’s a bit harsh. Apart from the gearbox all these things can be improved upon by a mechanically minded owner, so you then end up with a bike that has immense charisma (Jap owners reach for dictionary at this point), goes like hell for a seventies bike (not bad for a nineties one, either) and sounds just bloody great.
P.Tuck
Here your bike can excel itself if you so wish, so you impatiently wait for the opportunity of a break in the oncoming traffic. When the gap appears it's either dropping down a gear for a relaxed overtake in fourth or, better still, a further change down to third, accompanied by rolling back the throttle a bit. Now for the sensation this gives. This time imagine yourself in a bus or coach, and behind you some dear child is rhythmically kicking the underside of your seat with alternate feet, that is the sensation coming through as you wait your chance in third to pull out.
Now the child gets bored, and kicks a bit harder and faster. This is where you change down to third and wind on the throttle. The exhaust note now takes on a very non-PC, business-like, beat that only a V-twin engine can deliver, allowing the speed to increase with ease. As the revs rise each pulse coming up through your seat seems to lessen in kick and individuality as it merges into one another, the exhaust now becomes a trumpet like blare which mixes with the induction roar, to rattle off the sides of the cars you're overtaking. Slowly it trails off to a lovely drone on the overrun as you use the engine braking and a dab of the discs to tuck yourself into a gap.
Welcome to Moto Guzzi‘s 850 Le Mans, the Italian sports-tourer of the seventies. Guzzi‘s early policy was, it seems, that if something works carry on using it... and why not? So after designing an engine to drive a tracked army vehicle several years earlier they then dropped it into a motorbike frame, obviously not an identical unit - though some might uncharitably disagree on this point - but with some overboring a whole range of models emerged.
One being the 850T range, a hotter version of which, with some head, carb and cam work, was the above mentioned Le Mans. My own passion for these bikes started when I parked a Lambretta scooter alongside one 25 odd years ago (I’ve come clean, I’ve owned scooters), two examples of Italian engineering side by side. Unfortunately my half of the equation was not quite so charismatic - an L-plated 150cc two-stroke, but the seeds of lust and longing had been sown.
Unfortunately it was a long-time before it was to germinate, as when I did progress to a motorbike it was my wallet that ruled rather than my heart, so it was lesser makes (Honda) that had my custom first of all. Now the years have moved on, and whilst owning a Yamaha that long forgotten seed sprouted and the memory once again surfaced.
My first big decision was the choice of either going for a Mk1 or a Mk2, as the Mk3 and onwards have the square shaped barrels and were ruled out. These, to my mind, lack the looks of the earlier engines in the same way as a BSA A65 compared to the earlier A10 model.
Initially, the original Mk1 seemed favourite because the half-fairing on the Mk2 is viewed by some to be an unattractive addition, but personally I warmed to it when it was found to be fairly effective for its size, whereas the bikini fairing on the Mk1 seemed more a styling exercise, admittedly successful, but only offering marginal comfort over riding a naked bike; not ideal for a tourer.
Several journeys and many miles later looking at bikes, a Mk2 was found locally - as is always the way. Anyway, first impressions looked favourable, with only one previous owner for the first sixteen years prior to the present one, and it came resprayed in that glorious Guzzi red along with powder coated frame and wheels. Also to give it that genuine feel, the bike came with every MOT from new for all of its 55000 miles.
This mileage, of course, was the downside, its evidence could be heard by the timing chain gently rattling away, but the bike had what I would call potential as basically all seemed in good fettle and it seemed to carry its mileage well. On the first visit a quick glance at the logbook enabled me to remember enough of the last owner’s details, and thanks to directory enquires I had a chat with the guy before making my mind up and parting with the money.
Anyway, the phone call revealed that the Guzzi had been the chap's pride and joy with plenty of TLC lavished on it, and was only sold for a change to a BMW rather than having to because of problems with the bike. So armed with this knowledge it was back again for a ride and a better look, on which the only real trouble to show up was a universal joint on its last legs and a slightly irregular tickover on the left cylinder.
After a fiddle while out riding it, away from the vendor's gaze, I took the view that it was probably carb rather than valve trouble, as there was no telltale backfiring on the overrun, and performance was not noticeably down. Although that can be hard to tell around town on an 130mph bike.
Prior to my testing the Le Mans, the guy selling it told me how the Guzzi had recently taken him to Portugal. Naturally that spoke volumes for the faith the guy had in the Guzzi, if it was the truth. But at the same time I wondered how he got on for both suitable octane and also leaded fuel, hence the concern over possible valve trouble. Because of the origin of these bikes, namely Italy, all parts are imported and consequently can be a bit expensive, so caution is needed when checking them out.
Regarding the carb trouble I was wrong! Whipped the head off and found the exhaust valve with a nice little bit missing. Thankfully the head was good, as these are no longer available, so in the end only a new valve and gasket were needed, along with a new timing chain every thing was assembled for around 60 pounds.
Talking of money, firstly batteries are heavy as in both duty and weight, so are a bit pricey, but as you will have trouble finding the kick-start and also bump starting is out of the question, you will need a good one. Also the back wheel and shaft drive need checking out for oil leaks if ever you fancy buying one.
Remember that worn universal joint I mentioned earlier? Well, that cost nearly a 170 pounds by the time I got some new bearings as well. So if it vibrates through the right footpeg at a particular rev range, on mine that was 4000rpm, then your credit card will get a bashing.
Generator light glowing? Don’t even ask about the price of an alternator. Some major engine parts give the impression they are priced in Lira rather than the pound. You’ve been warned! .
But what do they go like? Well because the bike is a sports-tourer the overall gearing is fairly tall with the five ratios ideally spaced to my own taste, so around town the first four gears are all you really need, fifth being more an overdrive for relaxed high speed touring.
When the carbs are in balance the engine will pull from fairly low revs, though, and will drop to 2000rpm in fifth (40+mph ) with care. But go easy on the throttle at these revs or else the pumper carbs will drown the engine with neat four star. Business really starts to happen with a surge at 3500-4000 rpm and at 5000 it feels like an entirely different bike all the way to 7500, that’s if you feel mechanically sadistic as the bike does now have 60,000 miles on it.
On A-roads the Guzzi can prove great for overtaking; if the inclination takes you, 6000rpm will see about 80mph in third gear, so third and fourth offer great potential. This linked to the fact the engine is a ninety degree V-twin giving minimal vibration, you can still see in your mirrors if you decide to wind her up a bit. Handy for anyone should they ever have to travel at these illegal speeds on the Queen's highway. Thank goodness for our wonderful boys in blue to stop this sort of behaviour.
Interestingly, the vibration is not like vibration as such, as it is not obtrusive, more a feedback to the rider of the engine working away underneath him. This makes you feel part of the experience, so much so that like the sound of the exhaust it would be less of a kick if it was not present.
Bend swinging at most speeds requires minimal input from the rider - more just a shift of body weight and a lean on the bars, but at higher speeds more effort is needed via the clip-ons that these bikes have fitted, to overcome the physics of the corner. Generally, the bike feels very well planted on the road no matter how far you want to lean it, but you can get quite a jolt at times from just a moderate bump when the suspension decides to show its age.
This is mainly the front end as the rear has Koni's fitted, the front having Guzzi's own peculiar sealed units. Shaft reaction in the bends? Well it does happen but you have to be going some, so if this doesn’t get you then no doubt a Volvo or a patch of mud will, so ease off.
Get the right gear and normally it goes round corners as if it's on rails - as the first owner had said to me on the phone that day. Get the wrong gear and commit the cardinal sin of having to change down in the corner (a blip of the throttle is required causing a tip to the right with the torque reaction) and you’ll end up in serious trouble, especially on a right-hander.
Having now had a year's ownership I feel quite happy with the bike, and during this time I’ve managed to attend to numerous small points. For example, fitting lighter throttle springs and making up new bushes for the gear lever and generally removing that looseness that creeps into the controls of an older bike.
The Guzzi gearbox, as most people know, provides a far from perfect example of smooth clunk-free changes, but with a little care the knack can soon be mastered (they clunk less). My other bike, a Yamaha XS650, is clearly the better in the gearbox area, but the same can't be said for the brakes! The single front disc on the Guzzi provides more stopping power than both brakes on the Yamaha. If you add in the Guzzi‘s other two linked brakes at the back and front you find they would probably stand the bike up, although not matching some of the more modern tackle.
Lots of people complain bitterly about the riding position, possibly based on a short ride when at the outset they had in their minds that it was going to be bad. Personally I find the riding position okay for about 130 miles before a stretch - once the lighter throttle springs were fitted; too light and the throttle stays open, believe me!
I’m six foot and have back problems but my arm length allows me to reach the bars okay, but my legs are a bit cramped. The ideal build for someone riding these bikes is the upper body of a six footer with the legs of a five foot eighter, something that the genetic scientists could no doubt solve.
Living with the bike hasn’t presented any real hassles, maintenance not giving any problems if you do it yourself, certainly no awful chain to adjust. But if you rely on paying someone to service it, it will need regular attention to carb balancing and other small items. Here I should mention the very clever engineering feature that Moto Guzzi designed into their bikes to stop the valve clearances going wrong. Your ears!
These are not the quietest engines in the tappet department, in fact some that I heard were contenders for the nosiest. My own is somewhere in the middle, helped no doubt by being the Mk2, unlike its earlier sister, having part of the fairing over the tops of the cylinders and so providing a bit of a shield between you and the noise.
Sadly, at long last it seems we are going to have un-leaded petrol shoved at us, whether we like it or not in the next millennium. So us Guzzi owners are faced with a problem, and the Le Mans with a 10.3:1 compression ratio is faced with a bigger problem. I, of course, knew this when I bought the bike and the sensible part of my brain said you’ll have trouble in the year 2000. But as I, along with most other bike riders, only listen to the daft or the you're-only-here-once side of our brains (about 85% of brain mass) I went ahead and bought her anyway.
Seriously though, the problem won't go away so I think some octane booster from a bottle may be needed if this lead replacement petrol is too low an octane. Talking of petrol I can easily achieve mid 40's in the mpg stakes and I normally return around 50mpg without having to restrain myself too much. I suppose I could do better if I wanted, but what the hell? You can see what side of my brain I’m using here again.
To sum up, if you like the feel and sound of a big British twin, but without the pounding vibes they have; also if you want some serious power for use on a motorway coupled with brilliant handling and brakes - something our British bikes had trouble in doing - then get a Guzzi. Of course they have faults like all bikes - clunky box, fiddly switches, dodgy wiring in places and front suspension that’s a bit harsh. Apart from the gearbox all these things can be improved upon by a mechanically minded owner, so you then end up with a bike that has immense charisma (Jap owners reach for dictionary at this point), goes like hell for a seventies bike (not bad for a nineties one, either) and sounds just bloody great.
P.Tuck