The road was long and straight. The '76 CB400F was in the red in fourth, the back wheel weaving lazily and the wind blast trying to knock me off the back of the bike. Up to fifth, the speedo flirting with the ton, the weave becoming nastier. Up to sixth, still loads of road left, the poor old motor doing its best, with 28000 miles of wear under its belt, to wrench the needle to the 110mph mark. It was damn hard work and required a contorted body to achieve.
By that time the bike was waltzing around on the edge of going out of control. To be fair, the suspension was nearly 15 years old and well shagged out, so I couldn't really expect much in the way of high speed precision. What it did desperately need, though, was a new front disc brake as under heavy braking I could get the lever back to the bars.
One reason why I was rushing into a 50mph bend at 75mph.....the loose suspension, wound up by the fact that I was still braking as I hurled over 375lbs of metal until the footrest touched down, made the machine shake and rattle but the tyres, newish Roadrunner, displayed a remarkable determination to stay on line.
Admittedly, that line did include the other side of the road on the exit from the bend and a startled look of horror from the driver of a Ford Onion as I wrenched the bike back to my side of the road, only missing caressing his bumper because he had the presence of mind to slam on his brakes. Ooops!
Running the Honda along in third and fourth gears through a series of switchback curves was great fun and I even managed to keep the beast on my side of the road. Over a humpback bridge went we, the bars giving a twitch as the front wheel went in the air and the back end a shake as its wheel lost traction, the engine revs soaring for a moment.
The four cylinder SOHC motor, derived from the American market 350 but inspired by the venerable sixties CB750, didn't have much power or much of a power band, making up for its lack of horses by humming along turbine smooth right into the red. Its six speed gearbox had a surprisingly precise action for an old Honda - but only after I'd modified the mildly rearset linkage to remove all its slop - and could be flicked up and down to keep the motor on the boil.
Although the bike could hum along at 70mph in top, there was no way any useful acceleration could be attained unless you quickly dropped two gears and whacked open the throttle. 90mph cruising was possible, just, but there was nothing left in hand to accelerate out of danger or burn off persuing plod mobiles. At the time of its introduction the riding position, with flat bars and pegs set back, was almost revolutionary, but these days it would be considered merely mild and only suitable for sustained 80mph cruising, a speed at which both the rider and bike were very happy.
The bike had endured an easy life, its first 12 years in the hands of an old codger who maintained it with the reverence due to some ancient British twin and rode it only on hot, dry weekends. It was not immaculate when I got my grubby hands upon it, 14000 miles had led to faded paint, worn suspension and dubious braking, but for 400 notes I was not going to complain.
For the next three years I used the bike for the short ride to work and outings into the country on weekends and evenings. As a cheap commuter it worked well enough. Tyres hardly wore, fuel was around 60mpg and the chain was kept in shape by continuous removal of links.
The only tedious part was changing the oil every 1000 miles, something the previous owner had made me swear to do with religious fervour - I got the distinct impression that had he not liked the cut of my jib he would not have allowed me to purchase the CB.
The bike was light and narrow enough to filter through small gaps in traffic and powerful enough to burn off the sharks in new GTi's. As a weekend toy the bike was less perfect but by no means a total disaster. Heavy use of the power saw consumption drop to 45mpg and on one highly illegal blast to 38mpg!
One good feature was that the bike was comfortable to ride for long distances - I once did 500 miles in a day and could still walk in a way that did not provoke the populace at large into hysterical laughter. The only problem with the seat was that it soaked up the rain, resulting in a wet bum for days afterwards.
The original owner had relocated the coils and covered everything concerned with providing a good voltage to the plugs in some black gunge. He had also disconnected the kill switch and rewired the ignition side of the bike so that it was separate from the rest of electrics. Thus, my CB did not cut out in the wet at all, something I soon learnt that fellow owners would spend hours complaining over. They did not believe that my bike had been cured.
Another problem with wet weather riding, one the previous owner had failed to cure, was disc brake lag. In the wet I was always thankful that the disc lacked power because the brake would suddenly grab on after a three second delay. Even repeated application of the brake to clear off the water failed to remedy the situation and that three seconds of suspended action still scared the shit out of me!
It was so frightening that I began to absolutely hate riding in the wet. Fiting new seals, pads and Goodridge hose helped dry weather braking but caused the disc to lock on nastily in the wet, still after the same amount of delay. A front wheel slide almost had me eating tarmac the first time this happened. Because the CB400F has spoke wheels I didn't really fancy putting a different front end on from some more modern machine.
More by luck than judgement a CB350K4 front wheel came along. It had a TLS drum brake. It took a lot of hassle to get it to fit into the CB400F front end and I still haven't got a working speedo. Braking was down slightly in the dry but wonderfully controllable in the wet. Combined with new shoes in the back SLS drum I felt it was a much nicer machine to ride.
I check the valve clearances every 1000 miles but it has yet to require any adjustment to the simple to use screw and locknut set-up, and there are only two valves per cylinder to check. I've had to balance the carbs once, which with a set of mercury gauges to hand was no great chore. The engine is reputed to suffer bore and cam wear but there's no sign of that yet on my machine, probably because it hasn't been much thrashed.
The engine fires into life first press of the button, even on arctic days, and quickly settles down to a businesslike whirr. Chassis components are not in such a happy state. I just recently installed a set of progressive fork spings and a fork brace which have tightened up the front end.
Top of my shopping list is a set of Konis to replace the OE shocks. The swinging arm bearings are almost on the way out, I can feel a little bit of movement in the swinging arm that was not there when I bought the bike. The rear wheel bearings should be okay, though, I had to replace them 5000 miles ago when they went and threw the bike into a 70mph speed wobble.
Paint is faded to the point where bubbles of rust are disrupting the frame and tank finish. Well, it is 15 years old. The forks aren't pitted because they've worn gaiters from new. Bits of chrome trim need weekly doses of Autosol to keep the brown stuff at bay, the wheels are almost beyond redemption, and the engine cases are spotted with white patches that refuse to clean up. Overall, looking a little tired but anothing a strip down and good going over would not rectify.
The CB400F is a very stylish, reasonably practical and easy to ride bike. A 400 Superdream will blow it into the weeds, but in ten years time I suspect that there will be a lot more CB400Fs on the road than the Superdreams. Would I have another? Er, I've just bought a crashed ‘un with a bored out, 460cc motor which promises to be fun when it's back on the road!
Peter Wallace
****************************************************
''I know people," said my neighbour, "who'd buy two sets of those exhausts just to put on either side of a sofa." At the time he was ogling my 400/4 which was sitting there looking distinctly evil with its unmistakeable four downpipes sweeping into a single rakish silencer. As a Hillman Imp fanatic he was, of course, likely to be impressed by the most unprepossessing motorcycle. I have to admit that the 400/4 exhaust system is one of those mechanical accessories which justifies its own existence purely because it looks so devastating.
The only problem with riding the bike is that you can't see the exhaust unless you hang down forwards and look back up at it. This, of course, obstructs the view for onlookers and consequently you have to look out for other 400/4s in order to admire its killer looks. Alternatively, you could arrange for a complicated set of mirrors....
As an owner of three CD175s and one CB200 I had always hankered after a 400/4 but as time has worn on they have never really become cheap. A friend round the corner had two from new and almost weeps when he talks about them - extraordinarily he sold the second one to buy a car, a crime for which he has never really paid a just due and has suffered accordingly ever since.
Eventually, I bought an unfinished restoration from the pages of MCN for £100. As I'd discovered that used parts were furiously expensive I knew I could sell it for more if it wasn't viable. Painted a delicate hue of Hammerite green it wasn't quite the maroon F2 I dreamt about but it was almost complete. When I got it home I looked in the box of spares and found the kind of parts that made you wonder just what direction the engine rebuild had taken.
There were a suspicious number of big-end shells and close examination of the the crankcases revealed a number of broken off bolts. I gave up swiftly, but as the price had included a Haynes and Honda manual, I sat down to read up. What emerged was that the machine is ridiculously easy to repair. The whole top end could be repaired in the frame and it was very little more sophisticated than a CB200.
I started looking around for another engine and rapidly found a nearly complete bike in a breaker in Chelmsford for £100. It turned over, had compression and wasn't rusty, partly because its frame had been stove enamelled. It had spent seven years in a barn or at least that was the story - the cobwebs did suggest there was an element of truth in it. Getting the bike home was an enormous struggle because the trailer punctured and I had to wait almost all evening to get it repaired.
The new machine was missing seat, exhaust, gearchange, footrest and rear brake fittings, and was a bit ragged around the edges. I fitted the various missing bits of the other bike and tried to get it going. Would it start? Oh no it wouldn't. This wasn't helped by the fact that the kickstart was knackered and six goes on the starter drained the battery. I connected it up to the car and tried again. Dead.
I had just checked one of the plugs to see if it had a spark not realising, until I checked, that the other three were dead. The ignition system is ridiculously simple - two sets of points feed two coils firing 1 & 4 and 2 & 3 respectively. This is called a wasted spark system because when one is on compression the other is on exhaust. In other words if one spark plugs works and the other doesn't the problem is plugs or HT leads. Four new plugs later it fired instantly.
The engine sounded terrific, smooth but slick. From that moment on I worked on the cycle parts to get it through the MOT. I replaced the kickstart with one from a CB500/4 for £15, courtesy of a breaker. The pipe between the front brake light switch and the caliper is a curious stretch of hose and rigid pipe so I replaced it with a single length of steel braid hose. Apart from that I was really surprised by the way everything started working as I cleaned it up - all the electrics functioned except the horn which I replaced with one off a CB200. Even the oil filter nut came undone when I gingerly tried a spanner on it.
As I worked through the bike I became more and more amazed by its simplicity. It really is no more than a double sized Honda twin. Unfortunately, life is never so simple and I became worried by the fluttering sound from one of the barrels. As the head gasket was weeping I decided to whip it off to have a look. One of the pistons was holed down the side where the upper compression ring had erupted through the piston only to be pulverised in the combustion chamber, which looked like the far side of the moon and was not a pretty sight. The amazing thing was that apart from the noise, the bike had functioned perfectly.
I pulled off the barrels and found that the bike had clearly been seized on that bore at some point. Instead of reboring it the owner had replaced the piston with a standard sized pattern part and reassembled it. Obviously, the new ring had caught in the damaged bore and fragmented. Every time I have owned a bike with engine problems it has invariably emerged that pattern pistons and rings have been involved. They may be cheaper but it really isn't worth the trouble.
I wasn't keen to hang around so I took a piston out of the spare engine and used its barrels and head. That was easy enough and by after lunch it was up and running again. That gives me a set of barrels to rebore at my leisure (about £127 with Honda genuine spares). The bike still looked a bit tatty so I painted the tank and sidepanels a virulent red and then spent hours with a tiny paint brush, gold paint and a couple of Honda transfers to make it look an approximation of its former glory.
I personally prefer the F2 style which is either yellow or maroon with stripes on the tank. As it happens the unfinished project bike had come with a pair of maroon panels. A wanted ad in the London free ads paper, Loot, produced a slightly scratched maroon F2 tank for £20. When I polished it up I spent an hour in a daze. It doesn't matter if a bike is a bit tatty, if the tank looks reasonable then you're almost there. The best engine rebuild in the world doesn't make a bike look cute.
Now, all this may seem like an enormous amount of trouble but the fact is that for a total cost of about £350 I have a bike which I know inside out already whereas the same money would have only bought me a dog. And what a bike! Legends are often disappointing but this one isn't.
It's comfortable to ride and can be ridden at relaxed speeds - I've reached the age where I believe any speed over 60mph on any bike is crazy. But that doesn't matter, half the pleasure of this machine is looking at it. I've ridden my dad's CB400N and his GPz550, neither have done anything for me. They were perfectly reasonable machines but they're lifeless and there's nothing distinctive about them. Even my dad seems to tacitly agree. He was over my house so quickly when I told him I had the 400 running that I hadn't had time to sort out the rear brake...
Ten years have passed since my friend round the corner last rode the highways on a 400/4. He was also swiftly round to my garage where he stood sweating the sweat of cold turkey. It wasn't running but the sight of the exhaust system alone had him shaking. Actually, of course, the blasted thing wouldn't start and he generously fumbled with the kick starter. After about 10 minutes it transpired that one of the contact breakers had become disconnected. It fired up and he equally generously offered to warm it up for me.
He came back with a winsome smile on his face and mutter something about just like stepping back. I think I saw a tear, I'm not quite sure but one thing I am certain of is, if you ever get a 400/4 don't sell it! And if you haven't got one be quick, since I assembled mine the average asking price has risen to well over £750 with plenty into four figures and some over two grand! It may have faults (actually, not many, I haven't found any, though it is said to cut out in the wet) but it has got style and that's always worth something.
Guy de la Bedoyere
****************************************************
There are still quite a few Honda CB400 fours about. Back in 1975 there were so many of them floating around that they seemed set to take over the road. Back then they offered all the civility of the CB750 four in a package that was no bigger than their CB250/360 twins. Indeed, I was to find that many of the twin's chassis parts could be interchanged with the fours. If you look close enough even the frame doesn't look all that different.
The much maligned twins had none of the little four's charisma. The sexy curve of its 4-1 downpipes, the neatness, even plainness, of its petrol tank and the entirely sensible riding position (rather than the then Yank obsessed ape-hangers) all added to its splendour.
More than anything else, though, was the silkiness of its SOHC four cylinder engine, a miniature version of the 750, or to those of a more prosaic nature two CB200 twins bunged together. Whichever way you look at it, the result was an engine that revved to 10,000 but whirred away like an electric motor rather than an internal combustion engine. Well, that was how it seemed back then.
After the initial enthusiasm died down, I discovered that in reality the engine didn't have much power, needed much work on its six speed gearbox and would only rarely do more than 95mph. I did achieve the top speed of 105mph a couple of times, but only down a hill or with a following wind.
For the mid-seventies, the CB400 handled better than most other bikes, had a riding position that rivalled a BMW in its practicality and ease of 80mph cruising, was cheap to run and ran with Honda's usual reliability. I would've kept this bike on the road a long time had not 22000 miles worth of abuse revealed that engine components were not made to the expected standards.
Judging by the knackered piston rings, scored bores and dubious looking camshaft lobes, the only way Honda could make such an engine, with so many components, at a reasonable price was by using substandard parts. It seemed strange that the smaller motor should lack the longevity of the CB750, which was more highly tuned and had to push a lot more mass along. I had changed the oil every 1250 miles but have to admit I spent a lot of time flirting with the red zone in the lower gears. It was the only way to make the Honda shift and, besides, it made a lovely growl at high revs.
It was out of guarantee by then, so I slung it to the back of the garage for a decade, whilst I amused myself on Suzuki and Kawasaki superbikes. Over that time the little bike was submerged beneath old bed frames, snooker tables, surplus wood, etc, etc, and it was only when trying to sell the house that the CB400F was unearthed.
The chassis was in a pretty good state as I'd smeared it with grease. The bottom end of the engine was still full of murky oil, the top end was a pile of bits obscured by a lot of rust as the box they were in had disintegrated. What I needed was a spare engine. I started buying MCN again, after two weeks I'd tracked one down for £75. It had been rebored but had knocking main bearings. With a little effort and a new gasket set I was able to make a nice motor out of the two non-runners.
The chassis turned out surprisingly expensive to renovate. A few hundred quid went on new bearings, cables, pads, brake shoes, fork seals, shocks, tyres, battery, caliper and footrest rubbers. At least the frame and tank paint, and exhaust chrome were all still in good nick thanks to my previous preservation efforts. About a month's worth of spare time was needed to get the Honda to a stage where it would pass an MOT.
The first serious ride was disappointing. I was used to modern bikes, the CB no longer impressed with its smoothness and its lack of low rev power (I was sort of running it in again) was very trying. Where before I had recalled precise handling and a sporting riding position it now felt very loose and needed more input than I was used to. The single front disc, once the business, felt laughable, more like a pushbike brake than anything else. The used caliper I'd fitted was a bit worn but not too badly by the standards of old Hondas. That calipers only last for about 5000 miles between rebuilds came as no surprise. The only thing that reassured me about the whole business was that I knew I could sell the Honda for a thousand notes. Nice CB400's fetch a good price so large has their myth become.
After a couple of weeks I had become used to the Honda again and had begun to use its revs. It was still so slow that I'd try to overtake a couple of cars at a time only to find that it accelerated so poorly I came close to being run down by oncoming traffic. My previous motorcycle was a GSXR750, which rather explains all.
It was a relief on the pocket to go back to the CB400F2, cheap tyres that lasted for over 15000 miles and even cheaper chains that did 20,000 miles, along with about 60mpg meant I was spending in a year what I used to spend in a month on the GSXR. Well, I would have had I not been doing so many miles!
My body had also become so contorted on the big Suzuki that the tiny Honda's armchair-like comfort came as something of shock. I kept climbing off, surprised to find that all the aches and pains of the past were no longer present. They had become so much a part of my life that I hardly noticed them any more; only in their absence did I realise to what tortures I had subjected my body. It's very easy to be seduced by the high speed adrenalin rush of modern superbikes.
The very blandness of the Honda, then, began to claim my affection. If it excelled at little it at least never intruded into my enjoyment of the motorcycling experience. I found that where I'd only use the GSXR for long trips, I leapt on to the CB at the slightest excuse, turning a short trip to the shops into a fast run down pleasant roads. If the speed factor was low the grin factor was high, nothing seemed quite like it should be and the Honda was somehow more than the sum of its parts.
The engine parts had me worried for a while, concerned that the rings or crankshaft bearings were going to fail again. Some hard used CB400F's don't last long at all! As the mileometer clocked up miles at a most fiendish rate and nothing went wrong, my confidence in the spinning four returned.
There were a few things replaced along the way to this new found infatuation. Swinging arm bearings had always been short-lived (8 to 10,000 miles) and the exhaust finally gave into corrosion. I was lucky there, finding a new one still in its packing from a fervent CB400F fan who'd had his heart broken when his garage full of pristine 400's had been taken in the middle of the night. He looked on almost tearfully as my own bike purred into life on the lightest caress of the button. There is a kickstart for back-up but I've never had to resort to it.
The speedo now reads 47000 miles, 25000 of those on the rebuilt engine. The gearbox has become a bit imprecise but that's down to gearchange linkage slop (I hope) and there's just a hint of camchain rattle (they typically last 30,000 miles). Finish is still excellent but only because it has a fervent polish every week (even more when it's ridden in the winter, more by fiscal necessity than choice).
There are lots in the used market. It's possible to pay £1500 for something that's on the way out or £500 for a really nice 'un. You need to know what you're doing!
Richard West
****************************************************
The 1976 Honda CB400 four was one of those rare motorcycles that captured the imagination. It wasn't flash or even powerful, but it looked purposeful and functional with a delightful OHC four cylinder motor. It was so compact that it looked like Honda had shoehorned their uprated 350cc four engine into a 250cc chassis. That was perhaps its one drawback, as on one of my all too frequent tours there wasn't that much space to put all the camping gear. Performance, wedded to the position of the throttle, became so poor two-up that I rarely took a pillion any distance - the only women I can find to go pillion bear more resemblance to a gorilla than the Oriental women so beloved of the editor. Lucky bastard!
Going back in time, a little, the CB400 came into my possession in '78 with just 3000 miles on the clock. The bike did have a certain appeal to the OAP brigade, this one having found the need to rev to 10,000 in every gear to keep the speed up not to his liking at all. Nothing like the Triumph Tiger that shared the garage, he muttered. Different strokes for different folks. I've always owned high revving Japs, so know no better!
I have to be honest, at this point, by admitting to owning a car and sixteen years of abuse has only added up to 48000 miles on the clock. Yes, pathetic, but I only ride for enjoyment and the vast majority of those miles have been grin filled. And that's what motorcycling's all about, ain't it?
Although circumstances stopped me from commuting on a regular basis, the Honda has all the goods for chopping through the traffic, being short, light and eminently flickable. Real hot-shots will balk at the antiquated single front disc and rear drum, but they always seemed adequate to me, although the front caliper would seize if I was foolish enough to ride in winter and, these days, the disc itself looks a mite thin.
EBC pads lasted a commendable 15000 miles and I've only had to change the shoes once. A seized caliper proved difficult to strip down, becoming corroded solid and a new piston and seal were eventually needed. The front brake always required a full bodied grip and there was a bit of lag in the wet, but I'd become used to it over the years and didn't really see anything wrong with it.
Part of the good wear of consumables was due to the way the Honda could be flicked out of harm's way. Unlike some massive multi, the CB wasn't the kind of cycle that was ridden in point and squirt mode, its steady handling allowing much more constant speeds to be maintained. I could go for miles and miles without even touching the brakes, just using the throttle and gears to determine speed.
The gearbox was a six speed unit that had started out well but over the years gradually wore its selectors. It was a typical Honda box, in so far that a long term owner could just about slice through the ratios (with something of the skills of a first class surgeon) but any casual rider wouldn't have a chance. The clutch action was light, which was just as well because it was needed often and clutchless changes had become destructive, noisy. Even so, there were occasions when I ended up at 12000 revs in a false neutral, with all eight valves threatening to tangle.
Despite that abuse the motor has proved reliable (with 1000 mile service intervals), needing one camchain and.........er, nothing else now I come to think of it, which makes this a bit of a boring tale by UMG standards. Yes, it did misfire in heavy rain, but it had to be such an intense storm that I was quite happy to have an excuse to get off the road. This misfiring had something to do with the HT leads shorting out, but some nearly new coils and leads out of the breakers didn't help.
The motor demanded new spark plugs every service if reliable starting was to be maintained. Fitting the plugs needed a bit of care as it was dead easy to cross-thread them and a gentle hand on the wrench was needed to stop the aged alloy stripping its thread. It was always a good idea at this point to give the cylinder head nuts a tweak to stem the flow of oil from the leaking cylinder head gasket. It had started at 12000 miles and is now bad enough to empty a pint of oil over the motor in 500 miles of hard charging.
Most of my riding has been holiday tours. A couple of thousand miles of pleasant summer riding. Most of it was great fun but a couple of problems turned up. The most serious was leaking fork seals. They seem to last for less than 8000 miles but these went after only 5000 miles. I had a spare set back home - a mere 1200 miles away. The Honda was carrying a lot of weight, the lack of front end damping making it do a reasonable imitation of a carthorse, not safe above 30mph. No fun at all. The solution was to phone home, instruct the wife to find the seals and post them express to the village where I decided to hole up. Well, it had a pub with a room for rent that sold real ale. I was there for three days as the wife sent a set of swinging arm bushes the first time (another quick wear item). Stupid cow!
The other time I broke down on tour was due to the battery going flat. The CB has both electric and kick starters but it won't start on a completely flat battery even on the kickstart. The battery had gone flat because all the acid had burnt off. The plates were left buckled, it was a wonder the thing hadn't exploded because the alternator was still churning out the power. The nearest service station was only a two mile push but they only had some huge car batteries. I decided to bungee the cheapest of these on the pillion and modify some jump leads to connect it into the main circuit.
All was well for the first few miles then the engine cut out. I looked down to see huge sparks leaping out from inside the sidepanels. The live lead had come adrift, was snaking about, shorting out on the frame. I was fortunate that the damage hadn't gone too deep and several rolls of insulation tape later I was back on the road. One drawback of this solution was that whenever I parked up for the night I had to disassemble the whole caboodle for fear of marauding vandals. When I hauled up to a large town with a big motorcycle shop I was almost happy to hand over three times what the car battery cost for the correct motorcycle replacement. I'm sure someone is making a fortune out of motorcyclists. This battery fiasco repeats itself every year, so there may be a charging problem but it very rarely blows bulbs or fuses.
Comfort on these tours is good. The only weak spot used to be the saddle, which was uncomfortable after 100 miles and became totally unacceptable when it started soaking up water like a sponge. An ugly but extremely effective King & Queen saddle solved both hassles.
With tent and ever reliable Honda I really enjoyed heading for the more remote corners of Great Britain. It was a good idea to carry a spare gallon of fuel because although the CB would do 50 to 60mpg, tank range was a disappointing 125 miles and reserve, due to debris or rust in its filter, often refused to work for more than a mile or so. I was loath to accept that the tank was rusting, as the rest of the bike was in excellent condition. Down to riding only in the summer, careful polishing and storage in the garage.
That reminds me of the time both mudguards tried to fall off. These rust from the underneath until suddenly all that's holding them together is the chrome! The front fell off its stays, bounced on to the Avon but was so far gone all it could do was dissolve rather than try to jam up the front wheel and throw me over the bars. Out of curiosity, I kicked the back guard and it did the same trick. The new set of guards were undersealed and given the odd poke with a screwdriver to make sure they are still solid.
I was not adverse to the odd high speed dash, the bike capable of an easy 95mph, the ton possible under neutral conditions and as much as 110mph when there was a strong following wind on a long straight. Most of my cruising was a much more relaxed 70 to 75mph, motorways avoided whenever possible as they are, admittedly, a bit of a bore on a machine of this performance.
My experience goes against the grain and conventional wisdom, that has the CB400F's engine afflicted with all kind of mechanical nastiness. They do seem a lot rarer on the road than five years ago, so perhaps there's some truth in all the rumours. When mine finally wears out I shall probably give up motorcycling because I don't like modern bikes.
William Jennings
****************************************************
Buying a CB400F in a pile of boxes wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had but it was only £75, not sufficient money to lose sleep over. When I pulled all the bits out I found there were parts from at least three different sources but everything was there. The majority of the bits belonged to a yellow F2.
The engine was the obvious place to start. There were quite a few brand new parts, including pistons, camchain and camshaft but no selector forks to replaced the scared and bent originals, nor any decent clutch plates. The manual made the rebuild appear straightforward and the horizontally split crankcases were logically filled with gear shafts, crankshaft and clutch. Used selectors and clutch plates were tracked down courtesy the small ads in a classic magazine (they have their uses).
I was pretty pleased with the progress I was making until a couple of the head studs began to strip their threads in the crankcase. That meant I had to strip everything out of the case so I could take it to the local engineering shop for helicoils. They will have to remain nameless for the moment (I'm still trying to get compensation) as they gave me back the crankcase with a crack running through the front where they'd done god knows what. Several breakers were visited until a reasonable one turned up for a tenner. I also bought a near perfect tank and set of panels for thirty quid.
The second attempt had the motor in one piece and installed in the frame which had already been powder-coated, something I only realised after removing all the dust. I hurriedly rigged the wiring up to a car battery, shoved in the best set of four into one exhausts and whacked on the petrol tank. Everything was loose but it stayed together long enough to suggest that the motor would run for more than a few miles.
The only worry with the chassis was buying some taper rollers for the headstock and hammering the seized up caliper apart. These done, it was a few days work to put it all together and do a quick test ride down the lane. The MOT was passed without any histrionics, cheap classic insurance bought and the tax disc proudly exhibited as a sign of my honest nature. The total cost was a very reasonable £220. Who says cheap biking's dead?
The harsh reality of commuting in autumn showed up a few problems. The carbs' action was very jerky indeed, traced after expensively replacing the cable, to a partially seized throttle cam at the carb end. Copious oiling every week did the trick. I wasn't too keen on removing the carbs as it'd been a real struggle to fit them and the filters into the compact frame - this is one short, small motorcycle despite four cylinders.
This model, in particular, was infamous for cutting out in the wet. As the coils and HT leads were old, probably original, I wasn't that surprised when I found myself on a triple, even a twin sometimes. The mild, mild dose of power had me fighting hard to dominate grannies on mopeds, until we'd suddenly scream off up the road. This was the only time the Honda showed much verve, as its power output was very weak and the bike would go asthmatic as the ton was approached.
Brand new models might've been more impressive but the tests of the day were more concerned with the excellence of its riding position and the neatness of the handling. All of which I could only agree with, especially in town where its light steering was delightful.
Not even a ruddy great mudflap did much to help wet weather riding. The spark was bright blue, so I fitted rubber HT caps and sealed the coils with silicone fluid, as well as rerouting the leads to keep them out of the wet. All this helped to the extent that cutting out only occurred in such furious weather that I shouldn't have been out in the first place.
In the dry I was quite happy to run along at 75 to 85mph, in perfect comfort, with the motor whirring away smoothly. 105mph was the most it'd do, but the engine had a serious lack of torque and needed much action on the six speed gearbox, which even with good selectors was full of false neutrals. There was no rhyme or reason to mastering the change, rather annoying given the frequency of its use.
In the wet, the mismatched tyres (square section Avon rear and teflon front Pirelli) made for some interesting weaves and slides, but such was the intimate nature of the CB, such a directness of control, that it was more enjoyable than frightening. The good thing about the rubber was that in 6000 miles they didn't wear down much more than a millimetre. To keep the rear chain in good fettle I'd tracked down one of those neat Furlong full chain enclosures, which keeps the back end clean and doubles chain life. Well worth the fifteen quid I paid for it.
The stormy days of winter saw water dripping down into the battery compartment, eventually causing a fuse to go bang. The engine stopped working and I freewheeled off the road, annoyed that I'd have to stay out in the rain for longer than I wanted. The bike, despite its European styling, didn't like wet weather. I replaced the fuse with a spare I always carried and just made it home before a second explosion. There was a lot of corrosion on many of the connectors and the fuse-holder was a real mess. I did a fair bit of bodging with insulation tape, which had the major advantage of not rusting!
These electrical problems continued into the winter with the rectifier and alternator burning out. An exchange alternator and new rectifier were fitted but the high voltages had got to the Boyer ignition, which meant blowing another fifty quid on a replacement.
Electronic ignition was supposed to help starting and economy but I burnt out one starter (those cold winter mornings) and was only getting about 50mpg. When something failed I rewired that part of the circuit, eventually being able to throw the whole loom away. Finally, with the coming spring, the bike had finished with the electrical eccentricities, at the price of spending more than I'd paid for the bike in bits!
The finish after the winter was appalling, a rat mixture of alloy rot, rusted paint and chrome, and six months worth of road grime. I practically had to pull the whole bike apart to get it cleaned up, a weekend's worth of spannering, cleaning, painting and polishing. The bike gave the impression of being too old, too hard used, to take the rigours of winter commuting (the same could be said about me).
The CB400F's a bit of a cult bike, the neatness of its appearance overcoming all the doubts that might be expressed about its true practicality. Weak spots in the engine are mostly down to the top end - pistons, camshaft and tensioner. The gearbox's naff, but that's true of all old Hondas and quite a few newish ones. That apart, the bike's easy enough to ride around on but far from inspiring in its performance and I don't like the bike in the wet.
My CB400 has taken second place to a newish CB750 four, which is about as flash as I want to get. Anyone who offers me £750 can have the 400, my adverts so far have not come up with anyone with the dosh. Maybe word has finally got around about its true nature.
Bert Woodside
****************************************************
In one day I saw two Honda 400's. The first was immaculate, as new, stored away, only 3500 miles old! Beautiful, but with a £2250 price tag! The second had 72000 miles on the clock, looked a little ravaged by time but was more or less stock. The expected, requisite mods - Girling shocks, gaitered forks, Furlong full chain enclosure, Avon tyres, big halogen headlamp, etc. Fortunately, a newish OE 4-1 exhaust was fitted - the curves in this are so exquisite that the bike's almost unsaleable with after-market exhausts. The price was £775.
Now, despite being lowly tuned, the CB400 engine ain't the toughest in the world. Legions of owners will deny this, but piston life of less than 20,000 miles and the usual dodgy camchain undermine its undeniably classic looks and aura of practical functionality. Thus paying £775 for an engine, which, to me, sounded distinctly rattly didn't inspire. A test ride revealed a paucity of blood and guts from the motor but that's normal! I offered £600 and after a lot of hustle ended up paying £650.
I rode home down the back roads, was quite surprised with the ease with which it'd hit 90mph. The mill was lovely and smooth, the exhaust note thrilling and the handling very reassuring. Honda put the motor into the old CB250G5 chassis, so it's a very light and compact machine. There were loads of tuning bits for the motor but given its reputed frailty this seemed like a damn stupid thing to do.
Nearing home I was caught out by a downpour. That had me worried, not because I was getting soaked but because the bike had a reputation for cutting out in the rain. Luckily, she ran as well as ever. On examination, the coils were covered in black gunge and rubberised plug caps were attached to the HT leads. The more I looked over the bike the more I was convinced that I'd bought a hard used but well looked after machine.
The CB has timeless, classic looks that make some modern bikes appear very silly. It's also very practical. 100mph, 60mpg, easy town work and the ability to cruise at 85 to 90mph on the motorway. Excellent comfort from the sensible riding position and 2:4 seat, whether in town or on the open road. A relatively simple engine that showed its age by the need for 1000 oil changes, valve and carb adjustments, though the non-standard electronic ignition needed no attention.
One potential problem had been eliminated. The original front disc and caliper were renown for turning crap as mileage increased. The disc could also go thin and warp. Both were replaced with highly effective stuff from an unknown source, though the pads are the same as a Z1000 Mk.2. The rear drum was perfectly matched to the machine's mass and speed, never gave me any trouble.
Suspension was taut, plenty of feedback from the road. The bike was so easy to ride that it soon became a second skin. Ideal for a 125 graduate but interesting enough for an experienced motorcyclist. The lack of fearsome acceleration was a bit disappointing in comparison even with CB250 Superdreams. The age of the motor obviously had something to do with this - there was plenty of evidence on the engine nuts and bolts that it'd been taken down a couple of times.
I worried about the rattles. There was some piston slap, for sure. The cylinder head had a disturbing ringing noise at tickover and there was the clatter of the camchain. Those items added up to major expenditure, so I decided that everything had worn into everything else and it was best to leave well alone until there was a lack of performance or an excess of smog from the exhaust.
9 months and 11000 miles later, there was nothing for it but to strip the motor. A top speed of 65mph indicated serious trouble. I had great hassle with the engine bolts because they were seized solid. Bloodied knuckles and broken bolts allowed me to get the mill out - heavy for one man.
Immediately, I found that a couple of valve rockers were worn down. No wonder I'd had so much trouble setting the valve clearance. The camshaft lobes and bearings were serviceable, a major expense avoided. The bores and pistons were beyond reclamation. Sob! The crank didn't wobble so I left the bottom end alone. It took me two weeks to find decent used stuff from MCN's classifieds and another week to put it all back together. Total cost, £160.
The rebuilt engine performed pretty much like when I'd first bought the bike. It was a little quieter and warmed up quicker. We were back in business, the daily commute not causing any concerns. The traffic was so congested that even a GSXR1100 couldn't beat my times (and would've cost twice as much to run).
With the great mileage on the clock I was a bit doubtful about doing really long distances. Never did more than 200 miles in a day, which the bike coped with in its usual nonchalant manner. The only sign of its age was the small puddle of oil it left when parked up. Came from the gearbox area. I didn't worry, just kept topping up the oil level. The gearchange needed a bit of effort but never really worried me.
The machine ran to 96000 miles when a stupid cager decided to do an U-turn in town traffic. There wasn't the space to complete the manoeuvre, it was such a stupid act that I couldn't conceive of anyone doing it. Thus the sudden movement of the car came as a complete surprise as I tried to overtake. Wham, bang, thank you mam! Yep, it was a bloody women driver!
The forks snapped off! And I went over the bars on to the top of the car. Can there be any greater indignity than a motorcycle with broken forks? After I'd shook my head back on to my shoulders, I harangued the driver until she burst into the tears. I left her wailing away whilst I dragged the CB up on the pavement.
Very weirdly, the wheel looked fine, the forks must have gone so weak with age that they were just waiting to snap off. The plod had a go at me for speeding between lanes of traffic - one ped reckoned I was doing 100mph! Lies!
One used set of forks later (£40) I was back on the road. It wasn't worth informing the insurers as it was cheap classic bike cover and I didn't want to end up black-listed. I was determined to break through the 100,000 mile mark, but the engine wasn't so happy as, once again, rattles and smoke had returned. The engine was running so hot that it was stalling in town and refusing to start again for ten minutes - very embarrassing as the cagers went merry on their horns.
By 97,500 miles I had no choice but to whip the engine out and top end off. It came apart much quicker than before because there were no seized bolts and I knew what I was doing. A couple of piston rings had broken up and there were deep score marks in the bores. A whole month went by until I found a brand new set of barrels and pistons for a hundred quid. They were new but bought secondhand. I was thankful that mine had already been rewired. I also had to fit a new camchain and tensioner.
The quietness of the rebuilt engine was astonishing. 105mph on the clock was possible and acceleration was almost, but not quite, harsh. I'd kept the chassis in good shape, including a respray of the tank, panels and guards. Three years after buying the bike I broke through the 100,000 mile mark. Many CB400F's have also achieved this feat but most have had major attention to the engine, unlike, say, a Suzuki GS550.
I bought a grey import Honda CB1, another 400cc four but a totally modern one with thrilling performance. The CB400 was sold for £1200, which meant it'd paid for itself. In its day, it was the first affordable Honda four with an emphasis on practicality. They're a bit high mile and expensive, these days, but still rather nice.
L.H.