Honda CBX1000

I didn't have a clue which bike I was going to buy. All I did was run around the local Bristol dealers like a headless chicken. Even the posh ones had slashed the prices on their used bikes. Then I saw the CBX1000. It was love at first sight. An early grey one in the classic shape. The huge six cylinder engine jutted out, dominated the whole showroom. Made the plastic replicas seem very tame.

A Dickensian sounding salesman bowed before me in supplication and twitched happily when I admitted to being in work and in possession of a wallet full of credit cards. The finance deals were a total rip-off so I opted for cash - well, the good old Visa card. A quick blast around the car park - the gearbox had a high learning curve but the marvellous rustle of the six cylinder engine had me sold on the bike. The salesman clucked and clacked in joy, did a little twirl and gave me a beaming smile. I thought he might be taking the piss but the lack of customers showed me the way things were going in the used market.

The 1978 machine claimed 135 horses and weighed 600lbs. By placing the alternator under the carbs the actual width of the engine was no worse than many big fours of that era. The engine's used as part of the frame, doing away with the need for lower frame rails - something Honda used to do on their six cylinder racers. DOHC's, two sets of camchain, 24 valves and six pistons all add up to massive complexity - stories in past UMG's indicate it's very easy to mess up a rebuild and end up with a pile of rubble!

Though it's undoubtedly a heavy old beast, it doesn't feel that top heavy and it had an unusual amount of precision in its steering. Typical of later Hondas, the whole feels like its wrought with solidity and more than the sum of its parts. The riding position suited me perfectly, which makes all the difference in one's enjoyment of motorcycling.

As for the engine's power, it comes in nicely below five grand, stutters for a moment, then goes all fierce. It's not quite the in your face, I'm going to give you a heart attack, stuff of legends, muted slightly by the sheer excessive mass it has to carry - not just the bike's 600lbs but my own 16-plus stones! All muscle, matey, so watch it!

Shoving the bikes into the bends needed a bit of effort but it held a line, didn't go berserk when I had to mildly brake or kill the throttle, and gradually ground away various bits when I took it right over. Hard acceleration out of bends didn't do much damage to the back end but the bike would go very wide, threatening to give oncoming cagers the time of their lives. Chopping the curves into a series of straight lines, the best way around this delinquency.

The brakes, though, were right out of the ark. Or maybe they were just old and worn out. Anyway, the first time I grabbed a serious handful, rather than coming to a stop in time, half the bike was left jutting over the white-line...the cager who had to swerve violently wasn't amused. The front calipers worked in a rather jerky manner but could never manage any violence. The bike already had Goodridge and there was plenty of life left on the pads.

I tried to bleed the fluid but the nipples had already been sheared off! I considered turning the bike upside down. A bit too much effort involved! Instead, I looked ahead a bit more than before and relied, also, on the engine braking - the mill gave off a marvellous howl on the overrun that was even better than the growl when on the cam, itself sufficiently eerie to make it as modern music. If fours are bland, six cylinder engines are sublime!

The bike was a talking point, pulling the crowds away from the replicas like a Page Three model from a pack of old widows. With the hordes of modern retro's the bike didn't look out of place in the late nineties, just looked better than the rest. Honda had managed to get the lines and shape of the chassis just right, attractive in their own right but not taking away from the magnificence of the hulking engine. Some of replica riders went into deep scowls when they saw the attention the bike was getting from the biker molls! Smiles all the way.

I began to scowl myself when it began to rain heavily. My six cylinder motor became a five and then a four; maybe even a triple. Its song went all crazy. The resulting power pulses jerked the back tyre around all over the road. I didn't know what was going to happen next, whether I was going to have full power suddenly laid down or end up atop a constipated rocking-horse. WD40 made a mild difference - it only lost one cylinder! A mudguard flap almost eradicated the problem, it repeated the trick only in the heaviest of downpours. I could live with that.

The wet also made the front brake go all crazy. Lag was the predominant characteristic, which would suddenly switch to a locked up front wheel, screaming tyre and bike trying to fall off the road. A couple of times, I saved it with a boot down. Nearly wrecked my muscles, some eight stone wimp would've been a hospital case!

Life with the bike went like this. The first few months during the summer, every time I rode the CBX I liked it a little more; found some new aspect or managed to push it a little harder through my favourite curves. During autumn, and the rain, I became more and more disenchanted with the bike, it just didn't feel right on wet roads and the brakes were diabolical. The thought of riding the Honda through the winter didn't inspire at all; as it was my only vehicle I didn't have much choice in the matter.

On the good side, the sheer width of the six cylinder motor gave adequate leg protection and ensured a warm funnel of air reached my body. Whilst the riding position helped keep me out of the storm rather than intensifying it. The front brake became so bad, though, that I had to drill out the snapped off bleed nipples. This could easily have ruined the calipers but I used a small drill to weaken the nipples, which then conveniently collapsed - for once, crap metal working in my favour.

Even with new brake fluid, the retardation wasn't brilliant. At least some of the vagueness and wet weather lag had disappeared. By then the pads weren't far off going down to the metal, so I shoved in a set of EBC's, which made the braking almost fierce. It still wasn't good enough to save me if I ever found myself in desperate circumstances but a combination of looking where I was going and basic instincts saved me from that kind of trauma.

I still wasn't happy about riding the bike through the winter. Not least because its once pristine finish (the bike had 19000 miles on the clock when I bought it and only one owner) was fast going off, needing all night sessions to keep it up to spec. I liked the big six enough not to want to turn it into a rolling wreck. Besides, riding a big bike like it was a restricted 125 in the wet wasn't any kind of fun! So, it was down to the dealers again, looking for a good trade-in deal on something practical - a Honda 250 vee twin Xelvis seemed ideal and I got a good deal on the CBX.

If I could've afforded two bikes I would have kept the CBX as a summer toy; a brilliant ride and wild pose tool! I couldn't, had to opt for something more practical in the winter. Come the summer, it's always possible that I will trade the Xelvis for something with a bit more brute power, although the little vee whirls away like clockwork and is useful in difficult conditions. As to the CBX, a brilliant bit of engineering in its day, now way off the performance pace but nevertheless a great crowd (and babe) puller.

Gerrry Sloughton