The 1978 Honda XL250 came to me quite unexpectedly. My elder brother's neighbour was complaining about all the motorcycle junk his son had left behind on going Down Under. My ears perked up and the dilapidated trailster was the result of my curiosity. Just take the damn thing away, I was told.
The XL was in a bit of a state with the cylinder head cover missing, revealing all four of its valves and single camshaft to be a mass of rust. Various bits of chassis were absent and rust was more in evidence than either paint or chrome. There followed several long nights in the garage chiselling off rusted in bolts, drilling out studs and spindles and spending an inordinate amount of time, energy and swearing whilst trying to prise the cylinder off the piston.
This was all hard labour but it cost nothing, gave me an excuse to avoid vegetating in front of the TV or have long arguments with the wife over whether or not the house should be decorated yet again. The good news was that the bottom end of the engine looked fine, there was still some oil in it. The bad news was that a large pile of bits needed to be replaced. A long list was made, several visits to the breakers sorted the worst of the problems.
Along the way, the huge 23" wheel was dumped, replaced by a RS250 wheel with disc that was vastly superior to the puny SLS drum fitted to the XL. The lowered front end was matched by shorter shocks, so an ungainly gait was easily avoided.
Luckily, one breaker had a source of XL parts, so I was cheaply able to rebuild the engine. The whole cost of putting the bike back on the road was around £150. These are very straightforward motorcycles to work on, apart from cheap alloy no serious problems were encountered. At least none that could not be fixed with a big hammer.
It took a whole day to persuade into life. I found the kickstart to be awkwardly placed and with a poor ratio, it was very difficult to give the engine a good boot. My son was persuaded it would be a good bit of exercise to push myself and bike up and down the road all afternoon. The engine made some promising noises but refused to start. Finally, after checking everything else, I replaced the new spark plug with another one. Bingo! My son walked off in disgust, muttering something about advanced senility, but I don't see that it was really my fault that I had bought a duff plug.
The XL motor is similar to RS, indeed was the inspiration for that roadster. Unfortunately, the XL was still pretty worn out even after my mechanical efforts. It certainly didn't feel like its claimed 20hp at 8500rpm, more like 12hp at 6000rpm. The motor felt more like a twin than a single, with none of the lovely low down torque you might expect. It sort of whirred more ferociously come 5000 revs but never really developed any power. It made a lot of noise, mind, down to the gutted exhaust (by rust not my delinquent hand) but even that was more bothersome than inspiring.
The handling was well weird as well. This may be down to the non-standard wheel and shocks or it may just have been a result of a bent frame from the off-road battering the XL had undoubtedly received. It looked pretty straight to me but then I am no expert. The MOT tester gave it a certificate without any trouble, so it could only be mildly bent.
The most immediate handling deficiency was that it pulled strongly to the left on acceleration and to the right on backing off the throttle. My son thought it a death-trap on wheels, but I found this idiosyncrasy fairly easy to adapt to. The next most prominent manifestation was that it rewarded hard work on the gearbox and throttle with a heady weave come 60mph. This was pretty insulting as it took great skill to master the five speed gearbox which initially appeared to have four neutrals and two working gears. Insane noises came up from the box if use of the clutch was neglected.
Anyone used to old Hondas will soon master the gearbox, but playing around with tyre pressures and shock pre-load had absolutely no effect on the weaves. The only solution was to do less than 60mph, which was okay with me as above 6000rpm the engine put out enough vibes to convince me I was riding a 2000cc, nitrous swilling thumper instead of the little Honda. Absolute top speed was 70mph but I only managed it the once.
Despite all these problems, the combination of light weight and narrow cycle meant the Honda could be used to good effect in heavy traffic. It was a great relief to commute on a machine that had no value. Risks, that on expensive machines could not be contemplated, on the XL could be undertaken with impunity. Okay, it would still hurt if I crashed to the deck and had a smouldering machine pulp me into the tarmac, but I found myself striding through ridiculous gaps in traffic and doing near U-turns around stationary traffic. The pavement was also used on occasions....despite the smaller wheel and lack of horses, it was still dead easy to aviate the front end.
The chain came with the bike, reclaimed from rusted oblivion, it strongly objected to its new working role in life. Thumpers are never easy on chains, so I should not have been surprised at the need to take a link out every weekend. When this treatment was required every day I knew it was time to replace the chain before it broke. I bought another worn chain from the breaker, which lasted for about a 1000 miles before the same treatment was applied. My larger bike has full enclosure, a Scottoiler and an O-ring chain, but I was determined to run the XL on a minimal budget. It's surprising what you can get away with when you put your mind to it.
Fuel worked out at a surprisingly good 70-80mpg, probably down to the lack of speed employed. Oil needed a slight top up between 1200 mile changes but I could have probably got away with total neglect. Tyres were never new, just what was available cheap from the breaker, although I drew the line at buying Japanese rubber. I wasn't that desperate to test out the reincarnation theory. Wear appeared slight and the handling became no worse even on bald tyres.
The front RS disc was probably the best performing bit of the bike, able to stop the Honda instantly, with enough feedback to be safe even on wet roads. The braking forces were so strong that the long XL forks would twist and pitch alarmingly in emergency stops, the bike feeling like it was about to flick me off, but it never did. The rear drum didn't seem to work at all, which was probably to the good because a bit of play developed at the swinging arm bearings. The back end would squirm around alarmingly when banked over but I was so into the strange handling that it caused no extra concern.
My son was forced to borrow the machine for a week when his own motorcycle failed. After the first day he vowed never again. After a day on public transport he was thankful for even the Honda's limited prowess. It had taken me two months to get the hang of starting the Honda, my son had to resort to risking life and limb with a bump start. The Honda felt rather ragged after he handed it back, I suspected he had revved the balls off the engine in the lower gears in revenge at its intransigent starting.
The bike was ridden for over a year with few major problems. I did nothing to the XL unless it was absolutely necessary, so over that time the chassis gradually degenerated to its apparently natural rust covered state, whilst the engine became ever less powerful. I coaxed over 12000 miles out of the little beast with no breakdowns on the road. It never actually failed, the engine just started churning out eyeball popping vibes at low revs. It was its way of telling me that I'd better start the cycle of renovation all over again.
I didn't, of course. The lack of power - the motor would've been the most bland in the world were it not for its excess of vibes - did not inspire me to any effort. I sold the XL as a runner for the somewhat amazing sum of £175. I was quite honest, explaining that I suspected the engine was about to explode. The new owner didn't care, he just wanted a chassis into which to fit the motor from his crashed RS250. I shudder to think what the handling would be like at 90mph!
R.T.Y.
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I always buy rat bikes. It's just a matter of what turns up. As long as it's cheap, preferably free, I'll have it. The most interesting was one of the first Honda XL250 trailsters. It was so old it had drum brakes, twin shocks and points ignition. At least I could understand them and fix 'em cheaply. A corroded heap, take it away for a tenner. So I did.
Part of the attraction of a rat was the possibility of profit. Do a cheap rebuild, turn it into a nice little earner. Cheap usually took a long time. Waiting for the right bits at the right price. The Honda took a whole seven months before it was back on the road. A good piston was the biggest problem. The cosmic exchange system turned up one eventually. These are relatively simple engines. A sort of grown up CB125. The OHC unit was a cinch to work on even for a cynical old bodger like myself.
I must be getting old. Leaping up and down on the XL's kickstart quickly tired me out. A weekend's huffing and puffing got the fires lit. Lovely burble out of the straight through exhaust. Enough engine vibration to make a Triumph Bonnie owner happy. The engine wouldn't rev beyond 5000 even in neutral. A snagged cable was revealed under the tank. The clutch was also full of nostalgia. Just like an old Norton ES2 I used to own. A quick blast up the road revealed more noise and vibration than go. And a horrible old Honda gearbox, more neutrals than gears. Total cost was £60!
I was all for selling it quickly. Too many echoes of a ruddy awful Tiger Cub. Unfortunately, a new job meant I needed to commute ten miles a day each way. There was no other machine available. Just a garage full of half finished projects. A typical biker's lament, I fear.
The worst aspect of riding the Honda in the autumn was the front drum brake. A quaint quarter width item that in my more idle moments I considered selling it off to the vintage crowd. The lack of power frightened the stuffing out of me. It was amazing the narrow squeaks I endured. The light mass didn't endow it with fast steering, either. The cars that received glancing blows from the front tyre were many.
I didn't hang around to argue the toss. I wasn't willing to pay out the exorbitant amount demanded for insurance. Neither were any of my mates. One advantage of such rats is that few want to steal them. Those so brain dead to try probably wouldn't be able to start them.
After slowing down to legal velocities life became a bit easier. Not that the Honda responded well. Felt more like a knackered 250 Superdream than anything else. Sod all torque and gutless when revved hard. If it didn't vibrate so much it'd be called bland. Two things saved it from being swapped for a C50. It was reliable and it went where it was pointed.
After three months of working I'd had enough. So had the 'silencer' which was straight through. It cracked right through, left hanging on its bracket. The noise was violent enough for a pack of wild dogs to come charging out of nowhere. Bloody things almost knocked me right off the bike. I kept a deathgrip on the throttle. Threw them off as we bounced up the road.
The XL engine was so lowly tuned that just about any pipe could be hammered on. Or maybe it was just generally so worn that the open megaphone made no difference. I had to be a bit careful that I didn't burn my inner thigh on it. I couldn't be bothered to reweld the high-level exhaust pipe. Never do any work on a hack unless it's absolutely essential. Working on one part can, in its disassembly, lead to all kinds of engineering horrors in related components.
By the time I was ready to sell it was the depths of winter. Except for some silly offers there were no takers. January was enlivened by a foot's worth of snow with hard packed iced underneath. The XL didn't like it but I did! No-one else on the country roads. Every time I came off we both slid along the road without any serious damage.
The XL was never a proper trail bike. But it's robust, best on dry mud and grass. Getting the front wheel up a yard is a shoulder dislocating business. The suspension's been modded at the front (who mentioned washers?) and replaced at the back with a pair of Girlings that feel like they'd be better suited to a Sherman tank.
Used as I was to old Brits and dubious hacks the lack of suspension travel was tolerable. Potholes were overcome by standing up on the pegs. About the only useful trail inherited trait on the bike. Off-road, though, the XL's front wheel tended to dig into soft ground. Startled was my first impression on being thrown over the bars. Quickly overtaken by pain as the bars whacked my leg and my neck was almost snapped off when my head hit the ground. I knew from past experience that there was no point attacking the bike. It usually hurt me more.
The vibro massage effect from the motor soon revived my spirits. Its effect at 3500 revs was most beneficial on female pillions. I never took any men on the back, so perish that thought! I must admit that when I tracked down the missing engine bolt the amplitude was markedly diminished. When taking a girl on the back I loosened the bolt a little!
In March it was decided the XL was ideal for a Continental outing. If it blew up I'd just dump it in the nearest ditch and hitch home. A cold spell made the ride to Dover like an arctic outing. Seven layers of clothing made me look very porky and wasn't entirely effective. Just as the outskirts of the city were reached the engine died. Locked up solid. My friend did the right thing, towed us the 300 miles back home! That was a fear and loathing experience with the Honda bopping all over the road.
The camchain had snapped. Somehow the valves hadn't snagged the piston. From past endeavours I had a large box full of old Honda camchains and tensioners. A bit of bodging allowed me to rebuild the motor at zero cost. Okay, I got the cam timing one tooth out. The engine pulled like a Puch Maxi. Or Maximum Puke as they are known around here.
After that was fixed a bit more commuting followed. I couldn't complain, the sun was shining and the Honda made the right kind of noise. Someone offered £200 and I wasn't even tempted. A week later the front wheel bearings wore out. Interesting wobbles and enough churning noises to convince friends the engine was on the way out. I was amazed when the bearings popped out with the first thump from the hammer. The brake shoes were down to their rivets but the braking didn't seem any worse.
I always bought used consumables but there seemed no way I could find any usable shoes for the Honda. I told myself not to use the front brake unless it was absolutely necessary. A near miss, when I misjudged the traffic lights and couldn't brake in time, soon had me looking through my selection of wheels. A wheel off a similar era Suzuki TS250 went in. It was a full width drum with good shoes, had about ten times the braking.
A mate finally coughed up three hundred notes for the XL. A month later the petrol tank rusted through. That fixed he's done another six months worth of riding and reckons himself content with the Honda. He sees it as a future classic and is searching for original components. He's a bit brain damaged from 20 years with a hoary old BSA A65. Me? I bought a fifty quid CD200!
Frank White