I took one look at the CBX250RS, decided there and then to buy it. Three years and 13000 miles old it might've been, but the chassis shone like it'd just popped out of the crate. The owner wasn't so old as to be senile enough to neglect the all important oil changes. Something that the new generation of riders seem to ignore. A brief blast around a housing estate didn't dim my enthusiasm and the deal was done.
The next day I loaded up with the camping gear, headed north for the Scottish Highlands. The RS rustled and growled along very nicely, settling to a relaxed if slightly firm (suspension-wise) 80mph pace. Being a mere single, albeit one with four valves and DOHC's, the Honda managed to be both fast and relaxed, lacking the frenetic feel of multi cylinder engines. Top speed was 100mph (on the clock, maybe a true 90mph) which confirmed the presence of around 30 horses.
Most of the vibration was damped out by the balancer system. The engine felt raw edged rather than rough at low revs, and right at the top end felt a bit like a dodgy Superdream - but by then the power had run out so no point pushing that hard unless I wanted a crankcase full of shot bearings. I did 300 to 400 miles in a day without traumatizing either hands or feet.
Crossing the Scottish border I met up with a lad on an XS250, had a real blast before we worked out who was top dog. The CBX was faster but the XS pilot madder, going into some blind bends on the wrong side of the road. Only after we'd splashed through a foot deep puddle, vision suddenly and frightenly blotted out by the spray, did the RS emerge as superior, the poor old XS left way behind with a fit of the stutters. The Honda's electrics proved to be in another, more modern, world and never gave any problems other than the odd new spark plug.
The CBX had Japlops on its rims which were fine in the dry but a bit loose on wet roads or when I rode the bike over a field. The back tyre would suddenly step out a foot or two on grass, which was my excuse for plowing into a large tent that flew a foreign flag. I've never seen two people get so angry in my life before, but they were Germans, so what could you expect. The campsite manager chucked me out just to keep them quiet. I must say I didn't envy the German chap's chance of surviving the night with his 200lb companion. She redefined the word Teutonic.
The CBX took that moment to shag its starter clutch, the engine roaring into life but making enough rattles to have the dogs tearing around in a feeding frenzy. I kicked them away, got out of there in a series of high speed slides but avoided crushing any more tents, even though I tried quite hard. The starter clutch was fixed with a quick disassembly and clean out.
That was the only trouble I had in the initial 2500 mile tour, although the drive chain did need some constant fettling, I've seen more impressive stuff on a moped. The single disc out front also gave me some moments of terror, lacking finesse it was dead easy to lock up the wheel in the wet. On the dodgy Japlop, that had the front wheel trying to break-dance and my underpants filling up with noxious muck. I won't be a bore by demanding a drum brake, not least because past experiences didn't impress and I had one casing crack up on me, the bike ending up cart-wheeling down the tarmac.
Some way down the road, with 29000 miles on the clock, I suffered the usual nastiness from the front disc - warped metal and sticking caliper pistons had the front end howling and squeaking. Also, the spokes in the wire wheel were rusting badly, in some places about half the metal had been eaten away. One problem with the CBX was that parts in breakers were rare (though many are the same as the grey import GB250) and the front wheel proved impossible. However, a reasonable looking CB250RS wheel went straight in, although that bike also suffers from similar problems. The CB250RS has a bit of a reputation for engine problems that happily the CBX doesn't share.
By 32000 miles the chrome plated exhaust system was heavily coated in the brown stuff, the baffles corroded to the point where they rattled around. I could've ignored that but the freer flowing exhaust was causing an ever wider midrange power glut and the RS was the kind of bike that needed all the power it could lay its hands upon. Again, no cheap exhausts were available in breakers but some used baffles were banged in and the holes welded up. The carburation was as smooth as could be expected on a machine of this mileage.
The bike still looked nice as I always kept it clean and the paint was good quality. As a single there wasn't much maintenance to do, even the four valves never seemed to lose their clearances. As well as being mild on consumables, fuel was excellent, between 60 and 85mpg. Doing 70mpg was as easy as avoiding thrashing the bike above 8000 revs, which basically meant staying away from motorways.
No great hassle on such a light bike, which practically screamed at me to find some deserted country lanes. Initially, the centrestand prong dug into the tarmac during fierce hustling but this was easily solved with a hacksaw. The Japlops proved the real limit to bend swinging but as the bike would still take much larger machines in tight corners it wasn't something that worried me (and the rubber lasts for over 15000 miles).
The main advantage of a thumper's narrowness, which allows the engine to be mounted low in the frame, giving excellent chassis dynamics and one reason why the CBX was vastly superior on the road to thumper trailies. The major disadvantage's the vibration but the CBX is about the right size to avoid being overwhelmed by the buzzing. Bigger thumpers need such power sapping balancers that both performance and economy suffers. 250 to 350cc is ideal and it's a pity that manufacturer's get away with foisting inferior 600/650 thumpers on the general public. It all comes down to how much they can charge!
The Honda powered on to 43000 miles with no real signs of demise other than a general feeling of tiredness. The speedo didn't quite spin around the clock so rapidly and the silky rustle of a newish engine had a few rattles in there. I might still have carried on with the CBX had not a really beautiful GB250 come up on the private market for £1200. With only 3000 miles on the clock the guy was practically giving it away. The mill was virtually identical and the retro looks a real head turner. I sold the CBX the next week for £900.
Both these bikes are just powerful enough to make it as proper motorcycles. They are amazingly cheap to buy and run, very easy to ride and don't seem to have any serious problems. They make most new 250's look like overpriced dogs.
Gary Eastern
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There are CBX250's and CBX250's, as I was soon to learn when trying to track down a good one. I wanted the blend of performance and frugality potentially on offer. What I didn't want was any of the dogs none too artfully disguised as premium tackle. I couldn't believe some of the stuff punters tried to pull. A frame so bent that the bike pulled viciously to the right. Burnt out electrics. And the one with a camchain that went off like a machine gun halfway through the test ride. The more rat-like the bike experienced, the more possessed I became about finding the perfect deal.
That turned up in a dealer's, of all places. £1300, no offers entertained, unless I wanted to drop my pants in the back room - nod, wink! Not my scene - must've been the pink shirt I was wearing! I couldn't find anything about the bike that disagreed with the reputed 9000 miles on the clock and the one owner in the registration doc. Lovely, especially compared to the wannabe rats I'd earlier encountered, which had ranged in price from £800 to £1400. Some people have an awful lot of nerve.
Deal duly done, I had 30 horses worth of DOHC 250cc thumper blues on my hands. As it happened, I spent many a happy month loping around on the CBX's predecessor, the RS250. A neat little bundle of metal if ever there was one, but with a nasty side that caught me out come 27000 miles. As in total engine failure, first brought to my attention by a seized motor. The rest of it was only fit for paperweights, too. The CBX250 had a much better reputation, though it never sold in large numbers because of its silly new price.
The engine lives on in the GB250 series, which turn up in the grey importers on occasion, though I've never come across a reasonably priced one in good shape. My CBX shone with years of loving polishing and rustled with an almost electric sophistication. Not outright fast, nor likely to leave my brain protruding out of the back of my cranium, but nevertheless an excellent mix of adequate power, minimal mass and taut handling.
Don't know if the springing's entirely stock, might well've been tightened up along the way. It rumbled a little over minor bumps, needed a major pothole before it reacted with all its travel. Bounced around and felt a little too directly connected to the tarmac for the first week or two. Then, as tends to happen, the minor irritants went into the background and its major benefits grabbed my mind and kept me on a roll.
It's a sneaky little beast in town. Its narrowness and lightness lets it kill most rivals dead. The same cunningness makes it a delight on twisty country roads. And it has one of those engines that like to run at maximum speed all day long. Top speed's around the ton, under favourable conditions, but most of the time it peaks out at 90mph, a speed it'll happily hold until the fuel runs out.
That made it bearable on motorways, though it had nothing in hand if the need to accelerate out of trouble arose. But I didn't like motorways much, preferred to let the little Honda sing its tune on fast A-roads, where it was well on the pace without threatening my licence to too great an extent. As in perfectly suited to our heavily policed and highly restricted roads.
The only area where it gave a hard time was the rear chain, those thumper power pulses, though quelled by a balancer as far as the rider was concerned, tended to rip the poor old means of power transmission apart. Even a heavy-duty O-ring chain with a set of brand new sprockets failed to last for more than 6000 miles. More than made up for by the average 70-75mpg economy, Avons that lasted in excess of 15000 miles and an engine that didn't consume one drop of oil between 2500 mile services. Neither did the valves go out of adjustment, making me neglect them for 5000 miles at a time. Only the Japanese can get away with such engineering finesse on such small, high revving engines.
A few minor chassis problems emerged as the mileometer spun past the 25000 mile point. The rear wheel bearings went, had corroded solidly into the hub which cracked up when assaulted by the usual lump-hammer and chisel routine. Oops! A spare wheel cost £25, had nearly new shoes in it! Lucky that! Replacement of the swinging arm bearings was similarly traumatic but I didn't quite wreck the frame!
One battery leaked acid, dissolved its brackets, rattled around and tore some of the wiring apart. The replacement lasted less than six months despite being lovingly wrapped in old inner-tubes. The electrical system is a bit marginal on these bikes, well worth checking over when contemplating purchase.
Pretty much what you'd expect on an ageing Japanese bike. On the other hand, the bike clicked righteously up to 38000 miles, and would, I feel, have done heaps more, before disaster struck. Not in the form of mechanical breakage but one of those wide Transit vans. The problem with vans is that their sheer size makes their drivers feel invincible. The jerk behind the wheel came merrily barrelling along the road, well over on my side.
I was overtaking a car at the time with no obvious escape route, other than sprouting wings and going all celestial. I hit the horn, flasher and brakes in one desperately coordinated move and had time to scream bastard at the driver. Not wanting to pass on unremarked I rammed the Honda into the side of the car, squeezed my knees in so hard they threatened to snap the tank in half, and managed to float the Honda into the tiny gap between van and car.
Man and machine were shuffled back and forth between the two vehicles. My left kneecap was shattered by the door handle of the car and my right lower leg almost amputated by the rear bumper of the Transit. The rest I only learnt after I woke up in a white room with tubes poking out of me in some very intimate places. Apparently, the accident had damaged a large number of cars in the ensuing pile-up, flattened the CBX and left me with a fifty-fifty chance of walking again. Somewhere along the line my memory blanked out the actual details of the crash or maybe I just passed out from the pain of having various limbs attacked. Some time later I ended up back on the road, on a DR350, but I'm totally messed up in my head, full of fear every time I set out. Oh well, can't win them all.
G.P.