I wouldn't be seen dead on one of those, mate. Famous last words, it turned out. Who wants a fucking Plastic Maggot, especially one all got up in hideous custom clothes? Not me, anyway. But? Some bastard steals my prime GS750 and I've got to get 15 miles to work and back twice a day. Three days suffering the vagaries of public transport was all it took to convince me that the little Wing was a thing of great beauty that I just had to buy. Well it was either that or the pushbike, as the Honda was the only bike greater than 50cc available for under 1000 notes that actually ran within 50 miles of Newcastle.
A 1981 model with 23000 miles under its wheels, it still managed to look quite shiny, down to it spending most of its life in Japan. The engine was easily identified as being the same as the CX500 but I hoped it had been around long enough to avoid the early mechanical malaise of that particular bike. It was a weird old design, with the cylinders sticking out like a Guzzi vee-twin but twisted inwards to get the carbs out of the way of the rider's knees.
All kinds of wonders were claimed for the original CX500 but they soon rung hollow when the engines started to explode. Nevertheless, despite these early tribulations CX500's did evolve into reliable tackle, gaining almost cult status on the back of their strange looks and idiosyncratic performance. The GL400 Wing was more of the same, as I was soon to find out...
First impressions were tinged with horror. Not since the days of my Raleigh chopper have my arms been so raised upwards. Nor did I appreciate the way the soggy suspension sagged down on to its stops - I only weigh 13 stones! The engine was a gutless wonder under 5000 revs with a rather vicious clutch action and clunky old gearbox.
The biggest shock, though, was when I actually got under way. The front end shook and rattled with a mind of its own, not wanting to go where I pointed it. Only by inflicting all my excess muscle did it go, more or less, in the required direction.
By the time I reached work I'd found out why. The front tyre was slowly deflating. A colleague let me inflate it with his car pump but when I came out again it was almost flat. Another go with the pump. With 30psi in the front tyre handling was transformed. Relatively speaking, it was still a bit on the loose side but it no longer tried to jerk my arms out of their sockets.
By the time I reached home it was big fight time again. Nothing for it but to lever the tyre off. This needs muscle and massive perseverance. After 90 minutes I'd finally levered the tyre off, finding that the innertube had more patches than original rubber. I was lucky it hadn't exploded and thrown me over the handlebars. Now, where was I going to get a new tube at eight o'clock in the night. Thank God for friends. I only got the tube back in after puncturing it three times. Enough to make a grown man cry.
After this inauspicious start I was all for putting a match in the petrol tank but I would still have to get to work and back every day, so the next morning I threw myself out of bed full of enthusiasm. The tyre was as firm as a sixteen year old nubile but the engine didn't want to start. CX plugs are easily accessible so I thought I'd pull them out and give them the once over. They were in there as tight as an Arab up a school boy and it was only with a gentle tap from a hammer on the right-hand one that it came free.
If you can call snapping off coming free. I scratched my head, my mouth hung open in disbelief at the carnage. I was already late for work, decided to phone in sick. It took me most of the morning to get the cylinder head off as the all bolts had corroded in solidly. Down to a chum who ran a small engineering works, who had a good laugh at my plight until the tool he was using to drill out the plug snagged, broke and nearly tore the machine out of its concrete base. It looked like my cylinder head had become welded to his drill rig! Fortunately, a few well place blows with a hammer freed it up and the remnants of the plug fell out. One helicoil later I was back in business.
The reason for the poor starting was that the plugs looked like they had come with the bike. The valve clearances were also way out but easily sorted. No sign of wear on the rockers or pushrods; even the cam-lobes, driven by chain in the lower half of the engine, showed no evidence of age. Built-in obsolescence usually catches up with the CX500 from 50,000 miles onwards, so I had some way to got before I had to worry about engine longevity.
I soon discovered that despite the vee-twin configuration and laid back custom style, the 40hp motor thrived on revs, although oddly there were only five ratios available. As mentioned, the gearbox was either heavily worn or the usual Honda abortion, and like the front end of the bike often had a mind of its own. Weirdly, it would sometimes be Suzuki slick, other times it was utterly horrible without much chance of engaging the required ratio.
The shaft drive added to the fun and games, causing the softly sprung rear end to lurch up and down, and round and about, with a sometimes heavy amount of violence. The best that could be said for the set-up was the total lack of boredom, because I never knew just what it was going to do next.
My ride to work involves about ten miles of dual-carriageway, a stretch of tarmac overwhelmed by desperate sales rep's in their Fords and Vauxhalls. Their idea of a minimal cruising speed was at least the ton. I had the choice of being sidelined or stringing out the GL at maximum revs and speed. Yes, it would do a ton, but it showed its lack of grace under such abuse by chattering away vividly to itself, unscrewing the mirror and shedding parts like some old Triumph twin.
The riding position wasn't as bad as I'd expected, as the sheer width of the bars gave me a chance to control the wandering front end and the heavy airstream seemed to lift the bike up off its soggy suspension. Luckily, that patch of road was one of the smoothest in the country, gave the queasy chassis a chance to relax.
Not so on heavy bends elsewhere on my route. I don't know if it was merely the shot suspension or also the effect of the lack of ground clearance, but the thing loved to dig in when cranked over. Dead easy to end up going backwards if you were a bit slow reacting to the death-wishes!
The all up weight of the GL was over 450lbs, despite carrying less than three gallons of fuel (consumption was around the 40mpg mark), making high and wide bars more or less mandatory. The initial feel was of a top heavy cart and horse but as with most things in life you soon adapt to them and even begin to enjoy them (her indoors weighs in at 20 stone, these days, but I still get off on her!). Did I really write that? Yes, there were days when I got a buzz out of riding the GL. Especially when the traffic jams were acute and all the poor cagers could do was look on in envy.
With about 34000 miles on the clock, the gearbox went really vile - only second and fourth working, which was kind of fun, stringing the engine out until it sounded like it wanted to break up into a million pieces. GL/CX gearboxes are a nasty piece of work, but I managed to heat and hammer the selector straight and put it all back together with only two little screws left over.
The gearbox never worked brilliantly but at least all five ratios had returned. I rode around on the GL for another couple of months until I finally had my insurance money as the desposit on a nice new Honda CB500. The dealer refused to entertain the ratty looking GL as part-ex but it sold for 600 notes to someone as desperate for wheels as I'd been. As I don't like customs at all, my time with the GL wasn't as bad as I expected but not a motorcycle experience I'd really care to repeat.
Mark Wilson