Buying a 1965 Honda in 1992 didn't seem like a very good idea. I'd always liked sixties Hondas, though, brought back my youth. This one had been stashed away for over ten years. The engine was reconditioned but refused to start. The clock read only 18000 miles. The tyres and rubbers were perished but the rest was reasonable.
I listed down all the bits I'd need to buy. Cables, chain, battery, tyres, etc. As soon as I saw the total I decided I'd be better off going to breakers for bits. The engine was the big question mark. Was there something major wrong? Or was it just a simple fault that the owner had missed. It still kicked over with plenty of compression. I reluctantly handed over a hundred quid, including delivery.
After putting in some new oil I made up some clutch and throttle cables. The Honda dealer had just looked at me as if I was mad. I attached the car battery. Kicking over the engine a few times there weren't any hopeful noises. Checking an engine this simple is a matter of sussing fuel and sparks. Out with the plugs, there was a whiff of petrol but no sparks. New plugs didn't help.
The points were the next port of call. Aha, all black and gummed up. Cleaned up the surfaces, set the gap and timing. A nice fat spark at the plugs. Carefully screwed the plugs back in. Knowing that it was dead easy to cross-thread them. Japanese alloy of this era really is crap!
The engine made some encouraging noises. Kick, kick, kick, kick......gasp, gasp, gasp, gasp......kick, kick, kick, kick.......and so on for most of the afternoon. I was sure she was going to fire up eventually. After losing about a stone in weight, the damn motor finally rattled into life. The top end sounded like a machine gun on full fire.
The next day I fitted a new battery. Set the valves and gave the camchain tensioner bolt a couple of turns. The bolt wobbled in its thread then shot out. That was all I needed. I found a slightly bigger (British thread) screw and force-fitted this into the cylinder casting. It carved out its slightly larger thread. I took it out, coated with Araldite and then screwed it back in as far as it would go. Left to set overnight. Whilst I dealt with fitting the used consumables I bought from the breaker.
The next day I was ready for the open road. The engine was reasonably quiet and surprisingly smooth. It was just a plain OHC twin, whose basic design persisted until the Superdreams arrived. A quick run around the block revealed no real horrors. The MOT followed. A cursory examination that took five minutes.
The engine was rev happy, the harder it was used the better it felt. Smoothness was much better than some modern twins. As was top speed, 80mph on the clock. The suspension was a bit weak. There was so little movement that the lack of damping didn't matter. A slight back end wallow was the worst that could be said for it. If I ignored the pounding my spine took over bumpy roads. It was one of those bikes that makes the rider feel part of the experience. I don't like remote machines. Like to know what the engine and tyres are doing. The Honda was good on this front.
The drum brakes were not quite up to maximum speed sorties. The front faded quite badly after a couple of hard stops. The back never had much power to begin with. I tended to limit my speed to no more than 70mph. Both brakes and suspension felt a lot happier. The riding position could take even greater speed for much longer.
After the first couple of weeks, when I started going on longer trips, an engine fault developed. The motor overheated then seized up. Left to cool for an hour it freed up again. Running with no apparent ill effects. I'd already checked that oil was getting through to the head by taking a tappet cover off. I suspected that the baffleless silencers had messed up the carburation. If I kept below 5000 revs there was no overheating. The carbs obviously needed larger main jets to make the motor run leaner.
That's the big problem with running 30 year old motorcycles. Getting spare parts for them is a major hassle. I ended up buying a set of pattern silencers instead. The old ones were rusting through so it seemed like a good investment. The engine was quieter, cleaner running but still did the same overheating trick. It seized three more times on the open road.
Then it started knocking. I was 25 miles from home when it happened, didn't belong to the AA. No choice but to ride home. I didn't make it. There was an almighty bang, then the machine ground to a halt. After an invigorating two mile push I was back home. One of the con-rods had snapped. Like most Hondas of this era, there is a centrifugal oil filter in one end of the crankshaft. This was full of gunge. There was sufficient supply of oil at low revs but the bypass valve didn't work. At high revs the engine suffered from oil starvation. Hence too much heat and eventually a broken con-rod. Whoever did the original reconditioning was a complete jerk not to check it.
The Honda's crankshaft can be rebuilt. I'd found another crank which had ruined its main bearings. Looked like it was twisted out of line, as well. Only cost ten quid in an autojumble. This supplied the con-rod for the rebuild. Its says a lot for the toughness of the twin that the main bearings were okay. The chap who did the job normally only rebuilt Triumphs. He was agog at the size and multitude of bearings in a mere 160cc twin. Shows where the old British companies went all wrong.
The engine had lost some of its smoothness. Maybe because I didn't pay too much attention to running it in. There was a distinct buzz that set in from 6000rpm that convinced me to take it easy on the throttle. I found that 400 to 500 mile services were necessary. If the engine oil wasn't changed the gearbox became full of false neutrals. It was never slick nor precise but a bit of thought with the left boot usually sufficed.
The electrics were 12 volt but not very good by modern standards. The front light had me peering over the bars, wondering where the road was going. Judging by the way cars cut me up, even in town, it wasn't much good for warning of my presence. Neither was the pathetic squeak from the horn. It was better to pull in the clutch and rev the motor. It's probably unfair to criticize a thirty year old bike like this, but it was so bad that I thought I was going to die several times. The lights improved miraculously when I wired in a direct earth lead to the battery. The same trick did nothing for the horn which eventually fell apart.
The chassis reacted to the winter weather by throwing off great chunks of chrome and paint. The mudguards had slowly been rusting on the underside. The front took the opportunity to disintegrate one of the few times I went on the motorway. The wheel locked up until the guard was completely demolished. I'd lurched out of the slow lane on to the hard shoulder. I was lucky not to have been thrown off.
After that little incident I checked over the chassis very carefully. As well as a rear guard waiting to go the same way one of the shock's studs was about to rust off. The guards were easy enough to replace with some universal alloy items. A so called friend with a welding torch proceeded to melt half the rear subframe rather than fix the rust problem. He reckoned that the whole structure was all but rusted through. And the best thing I could do was throw the whole motorcycle into the nearest skip or canal.
I wasn't too keen on this idea but had to admit that there seemed no easy way to fix the frame. What I needed was another chassis that would take the CB160's engine and running gear. It'd have to be cheap and a lot newer to avoid similar rust problems. Tape measure in hand I headed for the nearest breaker. The CB160's motor is only attached at the head and the rear, so I hoped it would be relatively easy to fit but I couldn't find anything remotely in line with the engine's dimensions. I sold off the remnants to an old Honda enthusiast for £250.
The CB160 was no doubt an excellent bike in its day, but now they are so worn that they are not really a viable means of transport.
Bernie Greene