Some people still insist that motorcycling has to be expensive. I know guys who spend more money on a pair of boots than I spend on a whole motorcycle. The most effective footwear also happens to be the cheapest - a pair of mangey old Wellingtons bought secondhand for a quid. Combine them with four pairs of socks and you're set for the coldest, wettest winter the UK can summon. Why spend fifty, a hundred, quid on a pair of leather boots? That's as stupid as buying a new motorcycle.
The main element in cheap motorcycling is to buy a small bike that no-one else wants and ride it as slowly as the traffic flow allows. I'm talking about motorcycles as basic transport not ego trips or adrenalin travels. The first bike I acquired in this way was a dead C50, a 1974 model. The guy was happy for me to take it away for free. The 17 year old engine was seized solid but a replacement was found for a tenner, condition unknown but it turned over.
After some fettling, that included modifying the engine mounts, the motor was installed and kicked over about a 100 times until it rattled into life. There were a lot of disturbing noises but it leapt into first and lurched up the road in typical step-thru manner.
Now, if I had wanted to ride fast, the thing would've been a deathtrap but in town I was happy enough at 25 to 30mph, slinking along in the gutter, scaring the shit out of sleepy pedestrians. Despite the Honda lacking anything like decent brakes or stability, it passed the cursory MOT and was never stopped by the police. The latter helped by the fluorescent orange jacket I'd found in a skip. The nylon was torn in one arm but I was a able to patch this. With an original and probably priceless pudding basin helmet and Mk.1 goggles I looked a picture of innocence.
With all this nylon gear the one thing I didn't want to do was break down. Massive condensation formed inside my clothes if I had to exert any effort, such as pushing the bike. For this reason I rarely keep a motorcycle for long, having perfected the sense of when an engine is about to expire. The C50 lasted five months and was sold for £80, which more than covered my running costs.
The next in line was a Brazilian manufactured Honda CG125. A fifty quid touch because the engine mounts had cracked in the crankcases. The motor would still start but bounced in the frame like an 850 Commando at tickover. Only two years old, except for some rot, the whole chassis was in fine fettle.
This is where friends and contacts come in handy. Walking into an engineering works and demanding alloy welding would turn out expensive but a few phone calls had tracked down someone who knew someone who knew someone else who worked in such a place and would do the job on the quiet for a tenner. Oh, it's a nice old world if you know what you're doing.
Nothing's quite as easy as it seems. Even with the engine back snug in the frame, there was a lot of vibration and not much more go than the C50. I suppose I could live with that but I had visions of making a killing by selling the CG off for £500 to £600. Reluctantly I pulled the valve cover off. Ho, hum, wrecked rockers led to the revelation that the valves had disappeared halfway into the head. One breaker wanted £75 for a newish head and got a mouthful of abuse for his pains (over the phone). £35 seemed expensive to me, but I appeared to have little choice. Why Honda chose a pushrod design I wouldn't like to say, but it ran reasonably after it was rebuilt. After a month I sold it for £525 before anything else could go wrong.
I went wild on a running C90 for a £100. The owner wasn't a real motorcyclist, had assumed that 60,000 miles and ten years had wrecked the Honda's engine. In fact, all it needed was a little work on the centrifugal clutch. I like these step-thrus, they just keep running and running, cost next to nothing to keep in consumables and fuel, and grind through the traffic like nothing else. This one lasted nearly a year until I sold it for what I'd originally paid.
Meanwhile, I'd acquired no less than four rat Honda 250 Superdreams with the intention of making one running bike. If I tell you that the most I paid for one was twenty quid you'll get an idea of what they were like. It was a sledge-hammer and chisel job to dissect them but I had plenty of time during the long winter evenings to do the job.
I'd read that the whole balancer mechanism can be junked without any great loss, which was just as well as all four had knackered chains and tensioners. One engine had a reasonable crankshaft, another a full complement of teeth on the gears, yet another a reasonable pair of pistons and barrels......all four, strangely, had serviceable sets of cylinder heads, so the three valve design can't be completely naff.
The engine wasn't a big problem, then, just a lot of work. The chassis was a different matter. Not one set of calipers was safe to fit. I had to buy a full set of chassis bearings and the best petrol tank had to have a patch of rusty underside knocked out and a bit of steel welded over the gaping hole. There was a usable 2-1, the airfilters were junked and the wiring radically simplified. Anyway, it all went together eventually, finished off in trendy matt black and camouflage netting.
After a few minor hassles the motor growled into life, my cats tearing off down the garden as if a pack of Dobberman dogs were after them. I quickly adjusted the tickover before every window in the house shattered. Once sorted, the Superdream was thrown into the commuting but turned out not to be very impressive. It wobbled above 40mph and turned in only 40mpg despite the gentlest of throttle hands. It leaked oil from every engine joint (I'd used the old gaskets) and wrecked chains at a remarkable rate (I'd eliminated the cush-drive). After two weeks I was happy to see it go for £275. If I'd charged for all the hours I'd put in I would've made a massive loss, but I didn't worry about that as I had nothing else to do.
A change was obviously needed. That came in the form of a non-running BSA Beaver, a quite smart moped with most bits made in Italy but assembled over here. The reason it wasn't running was traced to cracked piston rings. I took the piston along to the local motorcycle dealer who after an argument finally turned up a couple of Fantic rings that would fit with a bit of filing. A fiver the pair because they were old stock.
I felt pretty pleased with myself as I was tightening down the head studs, but it turned to anger when each stud started turning in the alloy. Another mate did the helicoil trick for a tenner, which I thought rather excessive, and I soon had the little stroker in one piece. It then occurred to me that the engine had popped out without having to pull any wires apart. Apart from a few coils of ancient wire, there weren't any electrics on the bike. I hate electrics.
A comedy of errors followed, in which I spent about a hundred nights of passion trying to achieve a working ignition system. No hope. I gave up in disgust, sold the heap off to a kid across the street for sixty quid. The cheeky little sod had the thing running the next day, took delight in doing massive wheelies up the street every time I poked my nose out. He had a friend who was an electronics genius and had sorted the mess in five minutes. You can't win them all!
The latest bike is a Yam RXS100. These are worthy little machines that run on the minimum of fuel and are more than adequate for town riding. Mine was very cheap because it was badly crashed, even the frame was as bent as a ten bob note. The frame was straightened by another mate and most of the other bits came from my collection of parts acquired over the past few years.
It goes without saying that consumables are never bought new. Tyres, chains and even brake shoes can be found from dealers who've just replaced them with new stuff, from breakers who have great piles of bits (if you butter them up or exasperate them by hanging around all the time, they are dirt cheap), or through the great cosmic exchange system. Got to go now, I've just been told about a seized CD175 someone wants cleared out of their garden. All this parsimony's really great fun.
The main element in cheap motorcycling is to buy a small bike that no-one else wants and ride it as slowly as the traffic flow allows. I'm talking about motorcycles as basic transport not ego trips or adrenalin travels. The first bike I acquired in this way was a dead C50, a 1974 model. The guy was happy for me to take it away for free. The 17 year old engine was seized solid but a replacement was found for a tenner, condition unknown but it turned over.
After some fettling, that included modifying the engine mounts, the motor was installed and kicked over about a 100 times until it rattled into life. There were a lot of disturbing noises but it leapt into first and lurched up the road in typical step-thru manner.
Now, if I had wanted to ride fast, the thing would've been a deathtrap but in town I was happy enough at 25 to 30mph, slinking along in the gutter, scaring the shit out of sleepy pedestrians. Despite the Honda lacking anything like decent brakes or stability, it passed the cursory MOT and was never stopped by the police. The latter helped by the fluorescent orange jacket I'd found in a skip. The nylon was torn in one arm but I was a able to patch this. With an original and probably priceless pudding basin helmet and Mk.1 goggles I looked a picture of innocence.
With all this nylon gear the one thing I didn't want to do was break down. Massive condensation formed inside my clothes if I had to exert any effort, such as pushing the bike. For this reason I rarely keep a motorcycle for long, having perfected the sense of when an engine is about to expire. The C50 lasted five months and was sold for £80, which more than covered my running costs.
The next in line was a Brazilian manufactured Honda CG125. A fifty quid touch because the engine mounts had cracked in the crankcases. The motor would still start but bounced in the frame like an 850 Commando at tickover. Only two years old, except for some rot, the whole chassis was in fine fettle.
This is where friends and contacts come in handy. Walking into an engineering works and demanding alloy welding would turn out expensive but a few phone calls had tracked down someone who knew someone who knew someone else who worked in such a place and would do the job on the quiet for a tenner. Oh, it's a nice old world if you know what you're doing.
Nothing's quite as easy as it seems. Even with the engine back snug in the frame, there was a lot of vibration and not much more go than the C50. I suppose I could live with that but I had visions of making a killing by selling the CG off for £500 to £600. Reluctantly I pulled the valve cover off. Ho, hum, wrecked rockers led to the revelation that the valves had disappeared halfway into the head. One breaker wanted £75 for a newish head and got a mouthful of abuse for his pains (over the phone). £35 seemed expensive to me, but I appeared to have little choice. Why Honda chose a pushrod design I wouldn't like to say, but it ran reasonably after it was rebuilt. After a month I sold it for £525 before anything else could go wrong.
I went wild on a running C90 for a £100. The owner wasn't a real motorcyclist, had assumed that 60,000 miles and ten years had wrecked the Honda's engine. In fact, all it needed was a little work on the centrifugal clutch. I like these step-thrus, they just keep running and running, cost next to nothing to keep in consumables and fuel, and grind through the traffic like nothing else. This one lasted nearly a year until I sold it for what I'd originally paid.
Meanwhile, I'd acquired no less than four rat Honda 250 Superdreams with the intention of making one running bike. If I tell you that the most I paid for one was twenty quid you'll get an idea of what they were like. It was a sledge-hammer and chisel job to dissect them but I had plenty of time during the long winter evenings to do the job.
I'd read that the whole balancer mechanism can be junked without any great loss, which was just as well as all four had knackered chains and tensioners. One engine had a reasonable crankshaft, another a full complement of teeth on the gears, yet another a reasonable pair of pistons and barrels......all four, strangely, had serviceable sets of cylinder heads, so the three valve design can't be completely naff.
The engine wasn't a big problem, then, just a lot of work. The chassis was a different matter. Not one set of calipers was safe to fit. I had to buy a full set of chassis bearings and the best petrol tank had to have a patch of rusty underside knocked out and a bit of steel welded over the gaping hole. There was a usable 2-1, the airfilters were junked and the wiring radically simplified. Anyway, it all went together eventually, finished off in trendy matt black and camouflage netting.
After a few minor hassles the motor growled into life, my cats tearing off down the garden as if a pack of Dobberman dogs were after them. I quickly adjusted the tickover before every window in the house shattered. Once sorted, the Superdream was thrown into the commuting but turned out not to be very impressive. It wobbled above 40mph and turned in only 40mpg despite the gentlest of throttle hands. It leaked oil from every engine joint (I'd used the old gaskets) and wrecked chains at a remarkable rate (I'd eliminated the cush-drive). After two weeks I was happy to see it go for £275. If I'd charged for all the hours I'd put in I would've made a massive loss, but I didn't worry about that as I had nothing else to do.
A change was obviously needed. That came in the form of a non-running BSA Beaver, a quite smart moped with most bits made in Italy but assembled over here. The reason it wasn't running was traced to cracked piston rings. I took the piston along to the local motorcycle dealer who after an argument finally turned up a couple of Fantic rings that would fit with a bit of filing. A fiver the pair because they were old stock.
I felt pretty pleased with myself as I was tightening down the head studs, but it turned to anger when each stud started turning in the alloy. Another mate did the helicoil trick for a tenner, which I thought rather excessive, and I soon had the little stroker in one piece. It then occurred to me that the engine had popped out without having to pull any wires apart. Apart from a few coils of ancient wire, there weren't any electrics on the bike. I hate electrics.
A comedy of errors followed, in which I spent about a hundred nights of passion trying to achieve a working ignition system. No hope. I gave up in disgust, sold the heap off to a kid across the street for sixty quid. The cheeky little sod had the thing running the next day, took delight in doing massive wheelies up the street every time I poked my nose out. He had a friend who was an electronics genius and had sorted the mess in five minutes. You can't win them all!
The latest bike is a Yam RXS100. These are worthy little machines that run on the minimum of fuel and are more than adequate for town riding. Mine was very cheap because it was badly crashed, even the frame was as bent as a ten bob note. The frame was straightened by another mate and most of the other bits came from my collection of parts acquired over the past few years.
It goes without saying that consumables are never bought new. Tyres, chains and even brake shoes can be found from dealers who've just replaced them with new stuff, from breakers who have great piles of bits (if you butter them up or exasperate them by hanging around all the time, they are dirt cheap), or through the great cosmic exchange system. Got to go now, I've just been told about a seized CD175 someone wants cleared out of their garden. All this parsimony's really great fun.
George Taylor
****************************************************
GSX 250 Non-runner, X-reg 50 quid or near offer. That was the advert that started off a whole series of adventures. My previous bike was a Honda CB400T. Many will fall off their seats at this admission, but I'd loved that machine within the marginal limitations of my finances. Despite all the horror stories the Dream never failed me all the time I had it. Withstood both abuse and English winters but not the attention of the local plod. It soon became a marked machine that never failed to draw the police every time I rode it. It had to go but not until a long ban was thrown in for its use (no licence, tut, tut).
Every bike I'd owned, mostly Suzuki two and four stroke twins with a couple of CX's and Superdreams adding to the merriment, had not given me much cause for concern. I was one of those lucky buggers who could pick up a bike for a song and ride it into the ground.
I went for a look at the GSX250 and bought it on an impulse. The bike had been standing) haven't they all) but that was it, so off home in the van. Oil down the bores, the petrol changed and the battery was charged. Then after a day of bumping it fired up. Or rather misfired. I'd been through the same hassle before, knew that the most likely cause was worn out carbs.
I found a GSX250 that the local joy riders had burnt out. They have no sense of taste those nutters. Everything was melted apart from the engine and carbs, so the latter were fitted and everything was okay. At least for three days when the electrics went dead. I half expected this on a Suzuki of this era, alternators and rectifiers burning out all too common.
The easy solution, if you only want to ride in the day, is to disconnect the charging side of the circuit and charge the battery up every day. It didn't take me long to decide that I really hated this bike due to all the hassle and inconvenience.....what can you expect for fifty quid? Well, I've bought better hacks for the money!
Then as luck would have it the lodger got a job at the local scrap yard looking after the bike department......he also got me a job there! If you're into motorcycles there are lots worse jobs but it's also one full of temptations. I couldn't resist a modified CX Eurosport for 150 notes with my choice of bits to fix it. It only needed airfilters, rear tyre, new seat (XBR) and a new battery. So the GSX250 had to go and I was laughing all the way to the bank. There really are desperate people out there and it paid for the Euro. Once painted matt black it looked like the dog's testes.
The first serious run, up to the Malverns with some mates, was so much fun that I could find nothing wrong. I even used it for trail riding in the quarry. After some of the hacks I'd owned it was paradise. I never replaced anything whilst it was in my hands until my brother bought it off me - he wrecked it in a fortnight!
My next bike also came from the breakers, an A-reg 550 Suzuki Katana with mangled forks and buckled wheels. Amazingly, the frame was straight but then it is quite a hefty tubular trellis. I worked for a fortnight with no pay in exchange for the Katana. I replaced the broken and bent bits with stuff from the breakers. I sprayed it matt black due to a lack of money.
The Kat wasn't as fast as it looked and lived up to its uneviable electrical reputation by blowing all its electrics. Not just the charging circuit but also the electronic ignition, there must've been a hell of a voltage going through the system as the latter is normally quite robust. This was where I learnt all about Suzuki electrics and now can test the components with my eyes closed.
A Suzuki GSX250 alternator and ignitor were fitted, they are exactly the same as the GS550's stuff, which might help explain why they don't last long on the bigger bike. A Superdream regulator/rectifier was bunged in, a common and largely successful bodge. Almost anything's better than the stock stuff.
With the coming winter redundancy came (bad time for small breakers), so off I went still thankful for the brilliant experience. By then the Kat was in a sad state as it was regularly thrashed. Gasket leaks, bald tyres, shagged chain, etc. Time for a rebuild. By then a stolen recovered GS550E came up for a 100 quid so I snapped it up. All the spares I needed plus lots more. Over the winter a mate did a paint job, including the bellypan - a very nice shade of red with metallic lacquer.
My bedroom was full for two months but it was worth it. My first ever totally rebuilt bike in 12 years. I enjoyed every minute. I did about 6000 miles after the rebuild. Normal oil changes and nothing else. It would do 115mph without feeling like it was falling apart and returned 45mpg. The GS range are bulletproof and fun but keep an eye on oil levels and changes. If they are neglected the engine overheats and burns out the electrics. Since then my brother's bought another Katana and put over 10,000 miles on it, including Exeter to Brum and back twice in two days with just a puncture for his pains.
My latest steed just shows what a jammy git I am. I'd gone to buy new chain and sprockets for my brother's Kat (they don't last long at all) and there was a guy in the shop buying a battery for his GSX750. He instantly fell in love with the Katana and wanted to swap bikes. We checked each other's bikes and went for the deal. I knew the GSX750 had a cracked rear disc (hence no working back brake) and nearly bald rear tyre, but I had plenty of spares back home (I have collected loads of GS bits). The thing that really cheered me up was the engine, with 34000 miles on the clock it was as sweet as a nut. The MOT stated that it had done a 1000 miles in the last ten months and it showed.
I put the replacement parts on and a used tyre, then buggered off up the Aston Expressway to check it out. It shot off but wouldn't go over 95mph although it would rev to the red line. Back home I checked the clutch. It was dead meat, had only four springs. Luckily GS550 plates are the same and I had a spare set (given the huge difference in power it's not surprising the bigger bike burns out its clutch).
Back on the test.....erm, open road, the old hulk managed all of 110mph but then the clutch started to slip again. It had to do until I acquired a newish clutch. Handling was good except for a bit of flex at the back end, fixed with a box section swinging arm meant for a GSX1100 that just happened to turn up when I needed it. Nice, the cosmic exchange system! A low mileage engine also turned up, which made life with the 750 very reassuring.
Since I've had this bike I've done 8000 miles and have had no problems with the engine and I don't expect any with the usual oil changes every 1500 miles (very important on almost every Jap engine as it's shared with the gearbox). It goes through tyres a lot quicker than the Kat but I only use secondhand ones. It doesn't burn any oil at all, so I can just ride without checking it between changes. I've replaced the back pads and the front will probably last another year. The twin cibie headlight fairing off a Yam XJ looks the business and really helps down the local lanes. Fuel averages 40 to 50mpg even though I go everywhere at 80mph.
The early twin shocker gets a very unfair write-up by all the magazines I've read but my bike is everything I like - it's fast (proper plates now and the fastest I've been so far is 125mph but with throttle left to play with) and the box section swinging arm improves the handling no end. The brakes are strong but with plenty of feedback. My only tiny gripe is tyre size for the rear, as standard is only 120/90x18 which looks and feels very thin. The biggest tyre I could find was a 130 but even this helps a lot. I'm running a 130/70x18 Avon AM23 and a 110/90x19 Metzeler on the back and front respectively. An odd mixture perhaps, especially on an old bike supposedly sensitive to tyres, but like the rest of the device it can take loads of abuse and still come back for more. Can't wait to try the 1100 next!
Every bike I'd owned, mostly Suzuki two and four stroke twins with a couple of CX's and Superdreams adding to the merriment, had not given me much cause for concern. I was one of those lucky buggers who could pick up a bike for a song and ride it into the ground.
I went for a look at the GSX250 and bought it on an impulse. The bike had been standing) haven't they all) but that was it, so off home in the van. Oil down the bores, the petrol changed and the battery was charged. Then after a day of bumping it fired up. Or rather misfired. I'd been through the same hassle before, knew that the most likely cause was worn out carbs.
I found a GSX250 that the local joy riders had burnt out. They have no sense of taste those nutters. Everything was melted apart from the engine and carbs, so the latter were fitted and everything was okay. At least for three days when the electrics went dead. I half expected this on a Suzuki of this era, alternators and rectifiers burning out all too common.
The easy solution, if you only want to ride in the day, is to disconnect the charging side of the circuit and charge the battery up every day. It didn't take me long to decide that I really hated this bike due to all the hassle and inconvenience.....what can you expect for fifty quid? Well, I've bought better hacks for the money!
Then as luck would have it the lodger got a job at the local scrap yard looking after the bike department......he also got me a job there! If you're into motorcycles there are lots worse jobs but it's also one full of temptations. I couldn't resist a modified CX Eurosport for 150 notes with my choice of bits to fix it. It only needed airfilters, rear tyre, new seat (XBR) and a new battery. So the GSX250 had to go and I was laughing all the way to the bank. There really are desperate people out there and it paid for the Euro. Once painted matt black it looked like the dog's testes.
The first serious run, up to the Malverns with some mates, was so much fun that I could find nothing wrong. I even used it for trail riding in the quarry. After some of the hacks I'd owned it was paradise. I never replaced anything whilst it was in my hands until my brother bought it off me - he wrecked it in a fortnight!
My next bike also came from the breakers, an A-reg 550 Suzuki Katana with mangled forks and buckled wheels. Amazingly, the frame was straight but then it is quite a hefty tubular trellis. I worked for a fortnight with no pay in exchange for the Katana. I replaced the broken and bent bits with stuff from the breakers. I sprayed it matt black due to a lack of money.
The Kat wasn't as fast as it looked and lived up to its uneviable electrical reputation by blowing all its electrics. Not just the charging circuit but also the electronic ignition, there must've been a hell of a voltage going through the system as the latter is normally quite robust. This was where I learnt all about Suzuki electrics and now can test the components with my eyes closed.
A Suzuki GSX250 alternator and ignitor were fitted, they are exactly the same as the GS550's stuff, which might help explain why they don't last long on the bigger bike. A Superdream regulator/rectifier was bunged in, a common and largely successful bodge. Almost anything's better than the stock stuff.
With the coming winter redundancy came (bad time for small breakers), so off I went still thankful for the brilliant experience. By then the Kat was in a sad state as it was regularly thrashed. Gasket leaks, bald tyres, shagged chain, etc. Time for a rebuild. By then a stolen recovered GS550E came up for a 100 quid so I snapped it up. All the spares I needed plus lots more. Over the winter a mate did a paint job, including the bellypan - a very nice shade of red with metallic lacquer.
My bedroom was full for two months but it was worth it. My first ever totally rebuilt bike in 12 years. I enjoyed every minute. I did about 6000 miles after the rebuild. Normal oil changes and nothing else. It would do 115mph without feeling like it was falling apart and returned 45mpg. The GS range are bulletproof and fun but keep an eye on oil levels and changes. If they are neglected the engine overheats and burns out the electrics. Since then my brother's bought another Katana and put over 10,000 miles on it, including Exeter to Brum and back twice in two days with just a puncture for his pains.
My latest steed just shows what a jammy git I am. I'd gone to buy new chain and sprockets for my brother's Kat (they don't last long at all) and there was a guy in the shop buying a battery for his GSX750. He instantly fell in love with the Katana and wanted to swap bikes. We checked each other's bikes and went for the deal. I knew the GSX750 had a cracked rear disc (hence no working back brake) and nearly bald rear tyre, but I had plenty of spares back home (I have collected loads of GS bits). The thing that really cheered me up was the engine, with 34000 miles on the clock it was as sweet as a nut. The MOT stated that it had done a 1000 miles in the last ten months and it showed.
I put the replacement parts on and a used tyre, then buggered off up the Aston Expressway to check it out. It shot off but wouldn't go over 95mph although it would rev to the red line. Back home I checked the clutch. It was dead meat, had only four springs. Luckily GS550 plates are the same and I had a spare set (given the huge difference in power it's not surprising the bigger bike burns out its clutch).
Back on the test.....erm, open road, the old hulk managed all of 110mph but then the clutch started to slip again. It had to do until I acquired a newish clutch. Handling was good except for a bit of flex at the back end, fixed with a box section swinging arm meant for a GSX1100 that just happened to turn up when I needed it. Nice, the cosmic exchange system! A low mileage engine also turned up, which made life with the 750 very reassuring.
Since I've had this bike I've done 8000 miles and have had no problems with the engine and I don't expect any with the usual oil changes every 1500 miles (very important on almost every Jap engine as it's shared with the gearbox). It goes through tyres a lot quicker than the Kat but I only use secondhand ones. It doesn't burn any oil at all, so I can just ride without checking it between changes. I've replaced the back pads and the front will probably last another year. The twin cibie headlight fairing off a Yam XJ looks the business and really helps down the local lanes. Fuel averages 40 to 50mpg even though I go everywhere at 80mph.
The early twin shocker gets a very unfair write-up by all the magazines I've read but my bike is everything I like - it's fast (proper plates now and the fastest I've been so far is 125mph but with throttle left to play with) and the box section swinging arm improves the handling no end. The brakes are strong but with plenty of feedback. My only tiny gripe is tyre size for the rear, as standard is only 120/90x18 which looks and feels very thin. The biggest tyre I could find was a 130 but even this helps a lot. I'm running a 130/70x18 Avon AM23 and a 110/90x19 Metzeler on the back and front respectively. An odd mixture perhaps, especially on an old bike supposedly sensitive to tyres, but like the rest of the device it can take loads of abuse and still come back for more. Can't wait to try the 1100 next!
Chris
****************************************************
I was walking down an innocent street when I saw it. A rat Suzuki A100 in someone's front garden. I almost kept going but imperceptible yet powerful forces found me hammering on the door. Twenty quid poorer I continued on the trek home, pushing the A100. This wasn't the first time it'd happened and won't be the last.
The Suzuki looked like it'd spent the last five years outside rusting away. I could tell it was a serious bike by the way the broken chain whip-lashed my ankle, causing an old codger who loitered in my street to rub his groin and shout obscenities at me. All kinds of funny characters around here since they closed the luny bin.
The A100 wasn't actually seized though the rings had gone and the cylinder studs had stripped their threads. The rest was just down to corrosion. A wire-brush was applied with the true energy of youth. Hammerite paint was applied to the bare metal whilst I waited for a mail order set of rings to arrive. Black on black hid the dents and disguised some of the commuter guise.
Once the rings arrived and the Araldite had set the studs, the engine rebuild was simplicity itself. Making the engine run wasn't so easy but perseverance, cleaned up points and new spark plug, finally filled the street with enough smog to make visitors from LA feel homesick. The lunatic appeared out of the smoke, waving a handbag (which he'd doubtless stolen) at my head. I revved the stroker hard, left him cringing on the ground.
The test ride was full of fun and games, mostly down to the steering head bearings cracking up and the front brake being as useful as a sidestand on a Ural combo. I raided my supply of ball bearings and bodged on a brake cable that didn't have a frayed inner. That gave the bike enough integrity to pass an MOT at my ever friendly back street dealer. He was so lazy he got me to fill in the form!
I don't trust old strokers any more than the large dogs that patrol my street. An advert was placed in the local Free Advertiser and in the time it takes to do a round Britain hike on an A100 I had two hundred notes in my hands and a rosy glow from getting ahead of the game.
In the Suzuki's favour it hopped around town for a couple of weeks, did 95mpg and frightened the life out of one cop who wanted me to stop. I knew I was going too fast for the brakes to pull up in time, lined the bars up with his groin and accelerated, if that's a pertinent description of the way a worn A100 moved. Marital bliss won out over duty, the policeman moved out of my path with an astonished scowl. I was pleased when I recalled I hadn't cleaned the numberplate.
The previous bargain had also come from someone's front garden. A Honda CD175 that looked so worn and rusty I was able to take it away for free. One of those mythical moments that prove there is still the odd decent human being left in the world. The cold reality of the next day's work in a freezing garage revealed that I had an engine, a frame, front forks and bunch of electrical bits that were okay. The rest was fit only for the rubbish tip.
The engine was terribly corroded on the outside but was still oily inside! It turned over on the kickstart but no sparks. Although it's a twin there's only one set of points, which fired both cylinders, the wasted spark when one piston was on the exhaust cycle doing no harm. The points were black with carbon which hid some pitting. They cleaned up nicely and a new pair of plugs heated with a blow-torch just before fitting saw the engine rattling into life on the fifth kick. The heated plug trick is often the only way to start four strokes that haven't run for a long time.
Encouraged, I bought a seized CD for forty notes. A lot of money for a non-runner but it had new Avon tyres and shiny cycle parts. Once the bike was decked out with all the good components I had a perfect CD175. That doesn't mean much in terms of performance but it's very rugged and with regular maintenance can run for as much as 50,000 miles.
I kept the Honda for a year before I became bored with its miserly nature. Did around 15000 miles at the cost of fuel (70mpg) and oil (every 1000 miles, yawn). I more than recovered the cost when I sold the CD for £425 to a collector who couldn't believe his luck and my naivety. His parting shot that it would be worth as much as a Vincent in ten years time even had the lunatic rolling around on the ground in hysterics. Luckily, he left me his card if I came across any other old Jap classics.
Before the Honda turned up I was forced to run around on an MZ 150. This had cost a tenner, found in yet another garden. The problem with MZ's is that they cost so little that there's no way to make a profit out of renovating one. I did the bare minimum necessary to obtain an MOT and avoid too much plod interest. Starting was dreadful, usually need a push before it'd deign to work. Something to do with the rudimentary electrics falling apart.
I did about 4000 miles before the gearbox locked up solid. I thought it was the main bearings that were knocking! I had no intention of doing something stupid like stripping the engine when a 125cc replacement was available for £35, sold as seen but heard rattling - and do these engines rattle.....and rumble, groan, knock and tap.
The 125 engine only had three working gears - MZ's seem to have naff boxes - but came to life on the kickstart and would put 60mph on the clock. That was good going for a town bike, at least for the kind of motorcycle I could afford. The tinware that didn't fall off rusted through, giving the hack a mean, lean look that from a hundred yards away was almost attractive in a funky, functional kind of way.
The 125 proved much easier to sell than would the 150 but no-one would give me more than a hundred quid for the heap. MZ's are a good introduction to hack motorcycling, you'll learn a hell of a lot fast and have loads of fun for next to no money. Even a good one won't fetch more than 250 notes unless it's very new.
The bike that started me out on all this garden spying and door knocking was a real street whore. An early RD125 twin, half hidden under a yellowing piece of plastic. I walked past it maybe twenty times before I summoned up the courage to ring the bell. The bike had seized some years ago, said the widow of the owner, and she thought her late husband had bought the parts to repair the engine. A cheery soul she let me poke about the RD, discovering the cycle parts were covered in grease and the engine was, indeed, seized. She'd found the logbook and a cardboard box full of engine goodies.
It was the best fifty quid I'd ever spent. The box had a new crank, pistons and barrels, all I needed was gaskets to complete the job. The RD125's a brilliant buzz-bomb that can do 80mph! I really did have an exciting time, bringing the chassis up to such an immaculate state that someone insisted on giving me a 1000 notes. Not a collector but a rich 17 year old who didn't want to be restricted to 12 horses.
The RD125 was a once in a lifetime experience, although a lot of abandoned bikes fail due to minor faults and are left to rust for years by ignorant owners. I have been shouted at twice when I've approached the owners of abandoned rats but usually people are only too happy to off-load the eyesore blighting their street.
The Suzuki looked like it'd spent the last five years outside rusting away. I could tell it was a serious bike by the way the broken chain whip-lashed my ankle, causing an old codger who loitered in my street to rub his groin and shout obscenities at me. All kinds of funny characters around here since they closed the luny bin.
The A100 wasn't actually seized though the rings had gone and the cylinder studs had stripped their threads. The rest was just down to corrosion. A wire-brush was applied with the true energy of youth. Hammerite paint was applied to the bare metal whilst I waited for a mail order set of rings to arrive. Black on black hid the dents and disguised some of the commuter guise.
Once the rings arrived and the Araldite had set the studs, the engine rebuild was simplicity itself. Making the engine run wasn't so easy but perseverance, cleaned up points and new spark plug, finally filled the street with enough smog to make visitors from LA feel homesick. The lunatic appeared out of the smoke, waving a handbag (which he'd doubtless stolen) at my head. I revved the stroker hard, left him cringing on the ground.
The test ride was full of fun and games, mostly down to the steering head bearings cracking up and the front brake being as useful as a sidestand on a Ural combo. I raided my supply of ball bearings and bodged on a brake cable that didn't have a frayed inner. That gave the bike enough integrity to pass an MOT at my ever friendly back street dealer. He was so lazy he got me to fill in the form!
I don't trust old strokers any more than the large dogs that patrol my street. An advert was placed in the local Free Advertiser and in the time it takes to do a round Britain hike on an A100 I had two hundred notes in my hands and a rosy glow from getting ahead of the game.
In the Suzuki's favour it hopped around town for a couple of weeks, did 95mpg and frightened the life out of one cop who wanted me to stop. I knew I was going too fast for the brakes to pull up in time, lined the bars up with his groin and accelerated, if that's a pertinent description of the way a worn A100 moved. Marital bliss won out over duty, the policeman moved out of my path with an astonished scowl. I was pleased when I recalled I hadn't cleaned the numberplate.
The previous bargain had also come from someone's front garden. A Honda CD175 that looked so worn and rusty I was able to take it away for free. One of those mythical moments that prove there is still the odd decent human being left in the world. The cold reality of the next day's work in a freezing garage revealed that I had an engine, a frame, front forks and bunch of electrical bits that were okay. The rest was fit only for the rubbish tip.
The engine was terribly corroded on the outside but was still oily inside! It turned over on the kickstart but no sparks. Although it's a twin there's only one set of points, which fired both cylinders, the wasted spark when one piston was on the exhaust cycle doing no harm. The points were black with carbon which hid some pitting. They cleaned up nicely and a new pair of plugs heated with a blow-torch just before fitting saw the engine rattling into life on the fifth kick. The heated plug trick is often the only way to start four strokes that haven't run for a long time.
Encouraged, I bought a seized CD for forty notes. A lot of money for a non-runner but it had new Avon tyres and shiny cycle parts. Once the bike was decked out with all the good components I had a perfect CD175. That doesn't mean much in terms of performance but it's very rugged and with regular maintenance can run for as much as 50,000 miles.
I kept the Honda for a year before I became bored with its miserly nature. Did around 15000 miles at the cost of fuel (70mpg) and oil (every 1000 miles, yawn). I more than recovered the cost when I sold the CD for £425 to a collector who couldn't believe his luck and my naivety. His parting shot that it would be worth as much as a Vincent in ten years time even had the lunatic rolling around on the ground in hysterics. Luckily, he left me his card if I came across any other old Jap classics.
Before the Honda turned up I was forced to run around on an MZ 150. This had cost a tenner, found in yet another garden. The problem with MZ's is that they cost so little that there's no way to make a profit out of renovating one. I did the bare minimum necessary to obtain an MOT and avoid too much plod interest. Starting was dreadful, usually need a push before it'd deign to work. Something to do with the rudimentary electrics falling apart.
I did about 4000 miles before the gearbox locked up solid. I thought it was the main bearings that were knocking! I had no intention of doing something stupid like stripping the engine when a 125cc replacement was available for £35, sold as seen but heard rattling - and do these engines rattle.....and rumble, groan, knock and tap.
The 125 engine only had three working gears - MZ's seem to have naff boxes - but came to life on the kickstart and would put 60mph on the clock. That was good going for a town bike, at least for the kind of motorcycle I could afford. The tinware that didn't fall off rusted through, giving the hack a mean, lean look that from a hundred yards away was almost attractive in a funky, functional kind of way.
The 125 proved much easier to sell than would the 150 but no-one would give me more than a hundred quid for the heap. MZ's are a good introduction to hack motorcycling, you'll learn a hell of a lot fast and have loads of fun for next to no money. Even a good one won't fetch more than 250 notes unless it's very new.
The bike that started me out on all this garden spying and door knocking was a real street whore. An early RD125 twin, half hidden under a yellowing piece of plastic. I walked past it maybe twenty times before I summoned up the courage to ring the bell. The bike had seized some years ago, said the widow of the owner, and she thought her late husband had bought the parts to repair the engine. A cheery soul she let me poke about the RD, discovering the cycle parts were covered in grease and the engine was, indeed, seized. She'd found the logbook and a cardboard box full of engine goodies.
It was the best fifty quid I'd ever spent. The box had a new crank, pistons and barrels, all I needed was gaskets to complete the job. The RD125's a brilliant buzz-bomb that can do 80mph! I really did have an exciting time, bringing the chassis up to such an immaculate state that someone insisted on giving me a 1000 notes. Not a collector but a rich 17 year old who didn't want to be restricted to 12 horses.
The RD125 was a once in a lifetime experience, although a lot of abandoned bikes fail due to minor faults and are left to rust for years by ignorant owners. I have been shouted at twice when I've approached the owners of abandoned rats but usually people are only too happy to off-load the eyesore blighting their street.
Alan Day