Most of my mates had flash tackle - until their licences
were destroyed! I used to go pillion as my cheap and cheerful tackle was
in another world as far as speed went. My licence was thus spotless and
I often ended up giving banned riders a lift. The GB250 lost a lot of its
spirit with two extra large hoodlums aboard, though the shape of its tank
was an ideal resting place for my beer-gut. Needed loads of work on the
gearbox, which with 24000 miles done was far from slick. Slack more like
it! It would still put 90mph on the clock, but its little heart was whirring
away close to a premature death.
Handling was also a bit loose, the suspension not up to
my own fifteen stones, let alone twice that! Its narrowness meant that nothing
actually dug in, the whole show just bounced and wallowed around to a rhythm
all of its own. The more impressionable pillions staggered off white of
face and hands shaking madly - bikes feel much more precarious out back,
especially as there wasn't anything (other than me) to hang on to. It didn't
take long for word to get around, I was soon left to my own devices; they
tended to blame me rather than the Honda.
Solo, a whole different machine emerged. Its mere thirty
horses gave every impression of being larger than life. It wasn't the kind
of thumper that wound itself up slowly yet relentlessly, the engine revving
with the rapidity of a twin, but it could also hold on to whatever velocity
was attained. Spirited up to 90mph, it took some determined wringing of
its neck to put more than the ton on its clock. All good, clean fun.
Handling was a bit on the loose side, mostly down to the
softly sprung shocks. It went really dire at one point, but this was just
shot swinging arm bearings (with about 19000 miles on the clock). The whole
back end of the bike feels a touch marginal, shown up most of all by a short-lived
chain - lucky to get more than 5000 miles out of one. Okay, I bought some
cheap and cheerful Chinese shit, but I did keep it in old engine oil (of
which there was a plentiful supply as I changed the lube every 500 miles
to keep the gearchange within the bounds of plausibility) but even so the
thumper power pulses made their presence felt.
Try to ride slowly in a tall gear, the chain hammered away
ferociously, needed at least 25mph in top. A brief ride on a similar CBX250
that had only done 4000 miles convinced me that it was probably down to
age. Even the gearchange was still slick! It wasn't really a major problem,
the kind of hassle that after a few weeks fades into the background, only
when jumping on a friend's newish superbike for a short blast did the contrast
in engineering finesse make its mark felt. Coming back to the GB, it felt
horribly rough and as light as a moped. Vibration was never really a problem,
more an intimation that the DOHC mill was whirring away than anything that
limited either speed or comfort. Despite my unlikely size, the Honda fitted
me better than an FZR600 but not on a par with the ergonomics of a CBR600.
My weight and the machine's age meant that after an hour
the seat's foam did a disappearing act, left me squirming around like I
had crabs or something. Two hours had fumes pouring out of my head and innocent
cagers who slowed me down were subjected to a stream of abuse. Not a brilliant
long distance tourer though it would purr along at 85-90mph without too
much hassle... I mean, how much does a new saddle cost? That would've solved
all the immediate problems but being a mean, if not wise, old bugger I left
the original saddle there until it felt apart... which being a Honda meant
it's still there!
The bike was only a giant killer in traffic where its lack
of acceleration didn't matter as there was sod all room to accelerate. No,
the way the bike could be slung through small holes in traffic, being as
narrow as a step-thru, was what really counted. I could ear-hole it in the
tighter twisties, but acceleration was never spectacular in the way of the
race replicas, though on a few occasions I pushed things so hard that they
ended up all over the shop due to the excess of power blowing away their
chassis.
If the Honda had any one attribute that stood out it was
the neutral balance of the chassis, which included the credible ability
to let me stay perched on the machine with both feet up at a standstill.
I'm sure if I went to the trouble of upgrading the suspension it would turn
out to be a very fine handler indeed! Comfort wasn't really compromised
by the shot suspension because the riding position held me in a way that
allowed my body to best absorb the bumps - I'm slightly below average height.
The riding position emphasizes the fact that the machine
is a very sensible motorcycle. The thumper motor needs little more than
regular oil changes, fuel consumption ranges from 65 to 75mpg and apart
from the chains I can get away with leaving the consumables for 15,000 miles,
or more! True, the rubber isn't state of the art, but it's only ever a problem
on very wet roads when the bike feels like it wants to skate around a bit
- I'm sure my 15 stones help keep it planted on the tarmac!
I've had two failures. One was difficult starting that
eventually drained the battery - beware, the whole electrical system is
a bit marginal and you don't want to overload it - just a dead spark plug,
probably the original at 17,350 miles. The other failure was the guts of
the exhaust falling out due to rust, sending the carburation so lean that
the bike wouldn't run! This at 21000 miles - mind you, I doubt if the carb
itself had ever been touched by human hand! An old CD175 baffle I had hanging
around the garage and a little artistry with a welding torch fixed it. It
sometimes does a large backfire on the overrun but it's not predictable
enough for me to scare the manure out of loitering cops.
I've come off the bike four times! Three of those were
down to cagers veering into my path in heavy traffic. There was no way out
but to hit something, usually the pavement which sent the bike flying -
luckily I spun away from the carnage out of harm's way. The biggest damage
was a buckled front wheel - you should've seen the Merc's door! It was a
toss up whether I hit the guy or just laugh at him; maybe both, but the
cops turned up and spoilt things. The other crash was spinning off on black
ice - the bike's used all year round! The bike was a bit battered but nothing
I couldn't kick straight.
Despite all these hassles, the finish has stood up pretty
well. The odd spot of rush where the paint was scraped off and some white
rash on the alloy but nothing a small amount of effort couldn't sort. The
bike's marketed on the back of classic nostalgia in Japan, comes out of
the crate with a better finish than most such devices. And I like the way
it looks. Engine life is rumoured to be around 50,000 miles so plenty of
time to savour what's on offer.
Eric Dredger
Welcome to our little corner of the WWW! We offer real motorcycling stories rescued from Interweb oblivion for your enjoyment, edification and reading pleasure, with horrible layout and questionable grammar as standard since 2010 ;)
"Russian warship... go fuck yourself"
Saturday, 31 January 2015
Honda CB350S: Bargain of the year
At the young and tender age of 18 I passed my motorcycle
test and wanted something bigger and faster. This is not difficult if your
steed's a rather puny RXS 100 that needs screwing to do 70mph after being
chucked out of an aircraft.
Having answered a few adverts that said excellent condition, must be seen, and then being confronted by dogs for big money, I was a little sceptical about going to see an eight year old CB350S that I spotted in my local rag. When I eventually found the bloke's house I noticed everything about it was absolutely immaculate - including the little Honda that he carefully wheeled out of his garage.
For me, the deal was done as soon as I saw it! But I did have a closer look just to check for any hidden nightmares - all I could see was more evidence of a bloody well looked after bike, including full service history and the original receipt of purchase when the bike was new.
I handed over the asking price of 1000 notes (feeling it an insult to haggle lower) and rode away on my first proper bike. After my little Yamaha, the power blew my mind - 34 horses a lot to an inexperienced novice. As I gained confidence my lack of maturity set in and my brain could be found in my right hand rather than somewhere near my eyes! The complete insanity only lasted for a month...
I was on my way to work one autumn morning, convinced I was Carl Fogarty, when the lights changed up ahead - hard braking and wet leaves don't mix particularly well as it is, but when some bastard in a Ford Fiesta jumps the lights coming the other way, things turn really nasty.
The sight of the cage coming towards me was the most terrifying moment of my short and sheltered life. I literally squealed like a pig, braced myself for some serious pain. The car's tyres scorched on the wet tarmac and the poor Honda slammed straight into it, making the most awful noise that would make even the most hardened biker cry. While all this was happening I was somersaulting through the air, admiring the view and then hitting the floor, taking all the skin off my arse.
The amount of pain I was in suggested that I was still alive but my legs were like jelly with the shock, which immobilised me for a minute or two. When I eventually got up, the cager barely let me pick the bike up before going completely apeshit and saying all sorts of things about insurance and the police. A few poison phone calls followed later but since there were no witnesses nothing ever came of it and the only money I had to fork out was for a broken indicator lens, and had a Saturday morning of stress straightening the yokes. No permanent damage done so I had faith in the bike's robustness.
The CB is a really smart looking bike with its tubular wraparound frame and nicely curved tank, powerful twin front discs and a big fat rear drum, rather interesting four spoke wheels that people seem to laugh at (takes all sorts, I suppose) and a quite sporty riding position that's also comfortable for about sixty miles. Of course, another big bonus are twin shocks that sadly now are all too rare on most bikes. In spite of all its good looks and sophisticated braking system, etc., the engine is nothing more or less than a variant on the Superdream theme.
A pity that, as Superdream engines notoriously go pop at 50,000 miles. As mine had only done 18000 miles when I bought it I wasn't that worried, and after the accident the bike was ridden mildly everywhere it went. It has to be said that the performance is bland, but then with the exception of the RD most 350's do tend to be bland; all needing a good screwing to blast through the ton!
The Honda's lack of acceleration got me done by the police for crossing a white line after failing to overtake a car quickly enough (bastards). The female cop looked just like Anthea Turner, made me feel like a class one criminal. As this was shortly after I'd passed the advanced motorcycle test, I felt even worse. Mind, it just goes to show that you don't need an advanced motorcycle to pass the advanced motorcycle test - much to the surprise of all those boring old blokes on BMW's.
Servicing was simple, oil every 1000 miles and the filter every two thou. Valves every 5000 miles and plugs at 3000 miles. All was well until about 35000 miles when what sounded like the camchain started to give trouble. Honda UK wanted 60-odd quid for a new camchain and to my horror the local rip-off merchant of a dealer told me that the cases would have to be split to replace it. Fuck that!
Got a pattern chain from a neat little place I know complete with rivet plate for about twenty notes and got a very clever chap I know to just feed it in off the old one and joined it up. Bob's yer uncle, Fanny's yer aunt.
I could've done the job myself but I can be very clumsy. For example, I was changing the oil one day when I completely shagged the sump's thread and cracked the case! When I finished crying, it was straight into the yellow pages to find an aluminium welder, as a new sump's costly and also a huge job to undertake.
I found someone willing to do the job if I could take the engine to him. I felt close to suicide on finding the front engine bolt seized solid, the bloody thing would not shift for love nor money. No choice but to strip the bike down to the frame and shove it into the back of my brother's Metro.
With the job done it never gave any more trouble and the next few thousand miles were greatly enjoyed as everything was in fine fettle. The original exhaust long gone in favour of a Motad when it fell off - in fact, I haven't seen any of these bikes with their original exhaust, obviously short-lived from new. The one on mine was rotted to buggery, the design a bit slack insofar as it collects a lot of water.
Tyres last well, the back doing an easy ten thou and the front good for almost twice that. A heavy-duty chain and sprocket kit would see out nearly twelve thou. Speaking of which, the chain needed constant adjustment. Buying parts for this bike seems abnormally expensive, something to do with them now being pretty rare on the ground.
At 40,000 miles, the chain driven balancer system started to play up by making a loud rustling noise. After adjusting the chain, situated behind the clutch cover, it quietened down but needed regular attention - a new cover gasket required each time; much to my wallet's dismay.
Done holidays, rallies, commuting, etc - often two-up which doesn't spoil the performance. Survived three winters without much damage. Sold it for eight hundred quid with the only immediate problem a blown fork seal. Should've kept it, had nothing but hassle since despite buying a newer GPZ500S.
Chris Green
Having answered a few adverts that said excellent condition, must be seen, and then being confronted by dogs for big money, I was a little sceptical about going to see an eight year old CB350S that I spotted in my local rag. When I eventually found the bloke's house I noticed everything about it was absolutely immaculate - including the little Honda that he carefully wheeled out of his garage.
For me, the deal was done as soon as I saw it! But I did have a closer look just to check for any hidden nightmares - all I could see was more evidence of a bloody well looked after bike, including full service history and the original receipt of purchase when the bike was new.
I handed over the asking price of 1000 notes (feeling it an insult to haggle lower) and rode away on my first proper bike. After my little Yamaha, the power blew my mind - 34 horses a lot to an inexperienced novice. As I gained confidence my lack of maturity set in and my brain could be found in my right hand rather than somewhere near my eyes! The complete insanity only lasted for a month...
I was on my way to work one autumn morning, convinced I was Carl Fogarty, when the lights changed up ahead - hard braking and wet leaves don't mix particularly well as it is, but when some bastard in a Ford Fiesta jumps the lights coming the other way, things turn really nasty.
The sight of the cage coming towards me was the most terrifying moment of my short and sheltered life. I literally squealed like a pig, braced myself for some serious pain. The car's tyres scorched on the wet tarmac and the poor Honda slammed straight into it, making the most awful noise that would make even the most hardened biker cry. While all this was happening I was somersaulting through the air, admiring the view and then hitting the floor, taking all the skin off my arse.
The amount of pain I was in suggested that I was still alive but my legs were like jelly with the shock, which immobilised me for a minute or two. When I eventually got up, the cager barely let me pick the bike up before going completely apeshit and saying all sorts of things about insurance and the police. A few poison phone calls followed later but since there were no witnesses nothing ever came of it and the only money I had to fork out was for a broken indicator lens, and had a Saturday morning of stress straightening the yokes. No permanent damage done so I had faith in the bike's robustness.
The CB is a really smart looking bike with its tubular wraparound frame and nicely curved tank, powerful twin front discs and a big fat rear drum, rather interesting four spoke wheels that people seem to laugh at (takes all sorts, I suppose) and a quite sporty riding position that's also comfortable for about sixty miles. Of course, another big bonus are twin shocks that sadly now are all too rare on most bikes. In spite of all its good looks and sophisticated braking system, etc., the engine is nothing more or less than a variant on the Superdream theme.
A pity that, as Superdream engines notoriously go pop at 50,000 miles. As mine had only done 18000 miles when I bought it I wasn't that worried, and after the accident the bike was ridden mildly everywhere it went. It has to be said that the performance is bland, but then with the exception of the RD most 350's do tend to be bland; all needing a good screwing to blast through the ton!
The Honda's lack of acceleration got me done by the police for crossing a white line after failing to overtake a car quickly enough (bastards). The female cop looked just like Anthea Turner, made me feel like a class one criminal. As this was shortly after I'd passed the advanced motorcycle test, I felt even worse. Mind, it just goes to show that you don't need an advanced motorcycle to pass the advanced motorcycle test - much to the surprise of all those boring old blokes on BMW's.
Servicing was simple, oil every 1000 miles and the filter every two thou. Valves every 5000 miles and plugs at 3000 miles. All was well until about 35000 miles when what sounded like the camchain started to give trouble. Honda UK wanted 60-odd quid for a new camchain and to my horror the local rip-off merchant of a dealer told me that the cases would have to be split to replace it. Fuck that!
Got a pattern chain from a neat little place I know complete with rivet plate for about twenty notes and got a very clever chap I know to just feed it in off the old one and joined it up. Bob's yer uncle, Fanny's yer aunt.
I could've done the job myself but I can be very clumsy. For example, I was changing the oil one day when I completely shagged the sump's thread and cracked the case! When I finished crying, it was straight into the yellow pages to find an aluminium welder, as a new sump's costly and also a huge job to undertake.
I found someone willing to do the job if I could take the engine to him. I felt close to suicide on finding the front engine bolt seized solid, the bloody thing would not shift for love nor money. No choice but to strip the bike down to the frame and shove it into the back of my brother's Metro.
With the job done it never gave any more trouble and the next few thousand miles were greatly enjoyed as everything was in fine fettle. The original exhaust long gone in favour of a Motad when it fell off - in fact, I haven't seen any of these bikes with their original exhaust, obviously short-lived from new. The one on mine was rotted to buggery, the design a bit slack insofar as it collects a lot of water.
Tyres last well, the back doing an easy ten thou and the front good for almost twice that. A heavy-duty chain and sprocket kit would see out nearly twelve thou. Speaking of which, the chain needed constant adjustment. Buying parts for this bike seems abnormally expensive, something to do with them now being pretty rare on the ground.
At 40,000 miles, the chain driven balancer system started to play up by making a loud rustling noise. After adjusting the chain, situated behind the clutch cover, it quietened down but needed regular attention - a new cover gasket required each time; much to my wallet's dismay.
Done holidays, rallies, commuting, etc - often two-up which doesn't spoil the performance. Survived three winters without much damage. Sold it for eight hundred quid with the only immediate problem a blown fork seal. Should've kept it, had nothing but hassle since despite buying a newer GPZ500S.
Chris Green
Suzuki TS250: Rat of the year
Unbelievable was the condition of the old TS250. Stood
in the back of a garage for a decade or two by the look of it. The old dear
was clearing out her father's junk and I'd actually turned up to take away
some metal work-tables. She didn't mind me taking the old heap and a few
boxes of spares off her hands.
Old strokers from the seventies are rare on the ground, these days. The TS might make it as a valuable classic, although at the time the DT Yamahas were regarded as the best trailsters.
The usual fun was had disassembling the bike but none of the chassis components had actually rusted through. The engine had the expected excess of corroded in screws that were only removed with the chisel and hammer routine; only broke one fingernail, this time. Miraculously, there wasn't any rust on the internal components but the crank's seals had perished and the main bearings were on the loose side. New bearings, seals and piston rings were bought mail order, the engine put together using nice, new allen bolts.
The chassis was patched up where necessary but little money spent. Cables, lights, horn and battery were found in the depths of my garage from abandoned bikes and failed projects. For much less than a 100 notes I had yet another motorcycle ready for the highway kicks, joining a pack of similarly cheaply created hacks - XJ550, CB350K4, T500, CB750F1. The TS the only off-roader, not that I was going to go trail riding on it but its specification was ideal for charging through inner London with the odd bit of country lane hustling thrown in for good measure.
First impressions weren't too reassuring. The worn steering head bearings let the bike flop around even at low speeds whilst the motor liked to conk out if the engine was left to slog it out at low revs, even in first and second. Not that the engine was much of a screamer, even after the new rings were bedded in with a good thrashing. Lost power once 65mph was on the clock and didn't get there any faster than a mate's Bantam 175 (admittedly, one of the later ones with a tuned mill).
I played around with various air-cleaners (the OE long disappeared or rotted into nothingness), cleaned out the carb's jets and tried to stop the oil leaks out of the cylinder head/barrel joint. Some internal component, or combination thereof, was just too worn to let the engine rev out in anything approaching a fierce manner. It didn't smoke that heavily, so the crank seals and piston rings/bore were probably okay. Thinking about it, the rotted state of the silencer might've contributed to the poor performance, it certainly made an heavenly wail (if you were into strokers and liked annoying your immediate neighbours).
Within the week I'd had my first accident. I was trying to accelerate through a fast disappearing gap along Edgeware Road, decided I wasn't going to make it and grabbed a dose of the SLS front drum brake. I spent hours filing down the shoes off another bike to get them to fit, the resulting squeaking and poor stopping pretty much what you'd expect. If I'd had an half decent brake I would've avoided the side of the BMW cage. As it was I did a few thousand quids worth of damage to the side of the car, whilst bending a few bits that were sticking out on the TS.
The bike was so far gone that only a devoted owner would've noticed the difference. I told the guy he'd just ruined a rebuilt bike, but he didn't take the hint, demanded insurance details. I made something up on the spur of the moment; I also hadn't bothered with the MOT. Luckily, the numberplate was so mangled by the collision that he had to accept my word for the part of the number he couldn't see, which was of course very silly of him.
After a few kicks, the TS screamed up the road at an unusual velocity - I'd found that taking the revs to maximum in first would then push the mill beyond a power point it wouldn't normally reach in second - and so on up the rev range until it finally ran out of steam at 70mph. A lot of effort and noise for an extra 5mph but interesting when I was in the mood, which luckily for the general populace wasn't that often.
Handling was what you'd expect from a bike with floppy suspension, worn bearings and steering geometry set up for quick off-road turning, not to mention a pair of well shagged knobblies that were almost worn flat. At least it was light enough to tug out of trouble and there was an excess of ground clearance... no real problems in town, it would wallow and twitch when bunged through the faster country lanes but never went into a serious speed weave, probably because serious speed was a concept it couldn't quite manage.
The second accident was a bit more disturbing. The usual deranged cager sweeping out of a side-turning without a thought in the world. My front end mashed into his door and I was thrown over the car. I did a somersault, a whole body shrug and got back on to my feet without any serious injury, although my 34 year old helmet had a bloody great crack in it - better than my head being in the same state.
The cager was swearing his head off, leaping up and down in animal aggression, looking like his eyes wanted to pop out of his head. I surveyed the radically shortened wheelbase, no hope of doing a runner.
His car wasn't that badly dented, the Plasticine forks taking most of the impact. I figured that the Bantam front end I had hanging around the garage could be knocked on without much effort, so when the cager calmed down and admitted that he didn't have insurance I was quite happy to accept his offer of 500 quid to fix the Suzuki, which I'd explained was a classic machine worth many thousands of pounds.
I pushed the bike the rest of the way home, laughing at the sudden excess of money to drop my way. The Bantam front end wasn't exactly made for the job but a few spacers had it bolted up and ready to roll. The bike now had a tendency to fall into corners and shake its bars on the exit but it was nothing a bit of imagination and muscle couldn't cope with. Alas, the 500 notes was grabbed by the nearest and dearest, wasted on a new suite for the front room. At least there was a lot of bedroom bliss for a few weeks.
The third accident occurred in Central London. Couldn't blame the TS for that, some cage swiped the back end rather than pulling up for the junction. Swept the bike away from under me and sent me flying into the ped's. Some crazy DR ran over the Suzuki whilst two hundred pound gorillas masquerading as human beings gave me a good kicking for spoiling their day. Both bike and man were bruised and battered but still fully functioning - I got out of there before the cops had a go at me.
The fourth accident was the last straw, the front wheel sliding away without warning on a damp bend. This sent a couple of ped's into screaming sessions, expecting much blood and carnage to result from my sliding down the road, but I went with the flow and was able to leap to my feet in one bound. Unfortunately, the poor old TS was picked up by the front of a Toyota Cruiser, thrown into the air to bounce down on two expensive looking cages and then be finished off by a predatory cabbie, who was doubtless bored out of his head and champing at the bit for some excitement. One glance at the remains told me all I needed to know; off with the hat and jacket, nonchalantly walked away from the mess. Can't say I'm any wiser but I certainly feel a bit older!
Robert Kellin
Old strokers from the seventies are rare on the ground, these days. The TS might make it as a valuable classic, although at the time the DT Yamahas were regarded as the best trailsters.
The usual fun was had disassembling the bike but none of the chassis components had actually rusted through. The engine had the expected excess of corroded in screws that were only removed with the chisel and hammer routine; only broke one fingernail, this time. Miraculously, there wasn't any rust on the internal components but the crank's seals had perished and the main bearings were on the loose side. New bearings, seals and piston rings were bought mail order, the engine put together using nice, new allen bolts.
The chassis was patched up where necessary but little money spent. Cables, lights, horn and battery were found in the depths of my garage from abandoned bikes and failed projects. For much less than a 100 notes I had yet another motorcycle ready for the highway kicks, joining a pack of similarly cheaply created hacks - XJ550, CB350K4, T500, CB750F1. The TS the only off-roader, not that I was going to go trail riding on it but its specification was ideal for charging through inner London with the odd bit of country lane hustling thrown in for good measure.
First impressions weren't too reassuring. The worn steering head bearings let the bike flop around even at low speeds whilst the motor liked to conk out if the engine was left to slog it out at low revs, even in first and second. Not that the engine was much of a screamer, even after the new rings were bedded in with a good thrashing. Lost power once 65mph was on the clock and didn't get there any faster than a mate's Bantam 175 (admittedly, one of the later ones with a tuned mill).
I played around with various air-cleaners (the OE long disappeared or rotted into nothingness), cleaned out the carb's jets and tried to stop the oil leaks out of the cylinder head/barrel joint. Some internal component, or combination thereof, was just too worn to let the engine rev out in anything approaching a fierce manner. It didn't smoke that heavily, so the crank seals and piston rings/bore were probably okay. Thinking about it, the rotted state of the silencer might've contributed to the poor performance, it certainly made an heavenly wail (if you were into strokers and liked annoying your immediate neighbours).
Within the week I'd had my first accident. I was trying to accelerate through a fast disappearing gap along Edgeware Road, decided I wasn't going to make it and grabbed a dose of the SLS front drum brake. I spent hours filing down the shoes off another bike to get them to fit, the resulting squeaking and poor stopping pretty much what you'd expect. If I'd had an half decent brake I would've avoided the side of the BMW cage. As it was I did a few thousand quids worth of damage to the side of the car, whilst bending a few bits that were sticking out on the TS.
The bike was so far gone that only a devoted owner would've noticed the difference. I told the guy he'd just ruined a rebuilt bike, but he didn't take the hint, demanded insurance details. I made something up on the spur of the moment; I also hadn't bothered with the MOT. Luckily, the numberplate was so mangled by the collision that he had to accept my word for the part of the number he couldn't see, which was of course very silly of him.
After a few kicks, the TS screamed up the road at an unusual velocity - I'd found that taking the revs to maximum in first would then push the mill beyond a power point it wouldn't normally reach in second - and so on up the rev range until it finally ran out of steam at 70mph. A lot of effort and noise for an extra 5mph but interesting when I was in the mood, which luckily for the general populace wasn't that often.
Handling was what you'd expect from a bike with floppy suspension, worn bearings and steering geometry set up for quick off-road turning, not to mention a pair of well shagged knobblies that were almost worn flat. At least it was light enough to tug out of trouble and there was an excess of ground clearance... no real problems in town, it would wallow and twitch when bunged through the faster country lanes but never went into a serious speed weave, probably because serious speed was a concept it couldn't quite manage.
The second accident was a bit more disturbing. The usual deranged cager sweeping out of a side-turning without a thought in the world. My front end mashed into his door and I was thrown over the car. I did a somersault, a whole body shrug and got back on to my feet without any serious injury, although my 34 year old helmet had a bloody great crack in it - better than my head being in the same state.
The cager was swearing his head off, leaping up and down in animal aggression, looking like his eyes wanted to pop out of his head. I surveyed the radically shortened wheelbase, no hope of doing a runner.
His car wasn't that badly dented, the Plasticine forks taking most of the impact. I figured that the Bantam front end I had hanging around the garage could be knocked on without much effort, so when the cager calmed down and admitted that he didn't have insurance I was quite happy to accept his offer of 500 quid to fix the Suzuki, which I'd explained was a classic machine worth many thousands of pounds.
I pushed the bike the rest of the way home, laughing at the sudden excess of money to drop my way. The Bantam front end wasn't exactly made for the job but a few spacers had it bolted up and ready to roll. The bike now had a tendency to fall into corners and shake its bars on the exit but it was nothing a bit of imagination and muscle couldn't cope with. Alas, the 500 notes was grabbed by the nearest and dearest, wasted on a new suite for the front room. At least there was a lot of bedroom bliss for a few weeks.
The third accident occurred in Central London. Couldn't blame the TS for that, some cage swiped the back end rather than pulling up for the junction. Swept the bike away from under me and sent me flying into the ped's. Some crazy DR ran over the Suzuki whilst two hundred pound gorillas masquerading as human beings gave me a good kicking for spoiling their day. Both bike and man were bruised and battered but still fully functioning - I got out of there before the cops had a go at me.
The fourth accident was the last straw, the front wheel sliding away without warning on a damp bend. This sent a couple of ped's into screaming sessions, expecting much blood and carnage to result from my sliding down the road, but I went with the flow and was able to leap to my feet in one bound. Unfortunately, the poor old TS was picked up by the front of a Toyota Cruiser, thrown into the air to bounce down on two expensive looking cages and then be finished off by a predatory cabbie, who was doubtless bored out of his head and champing at the bit for some excitement. One glance at the remains told me all I needed to know; off with the hat and jacket, nonchalantly walked away from the mess. Can't say I'm any wiser but I certainly feel a bit older!
Robert Kellin
Wednesday, 28 January 2015
Suzuki LS650: Thumper Trials
I had the choice of an immaculate, low mileage Suzuki 650
Savage or an old Harley with knocking main bearings. My heart wanted the
American Iron but my brain said go for the Suzuki as it wasn't just going
to be a weekend toy but also a daily commuter. I had a couple of rides on
the Harley - felt horrible but full of character - and almost went for it.
Then the LS650's owner said I could have it for 1500 notes rather than two
grand if I wanted to do the deal that day, so that was that.
The LS's a 650cc thumper in a custom chassis. The engine makes loads of torque, the chassis is relatively lightweight and the overall package is quite impressive on the road. But? Well, it's not a Harley, is it? Commuting on a chopper is quite relaxing. Couldn't weave through the smaller gaps, despite its general narrowness it's also very long. The motor would thud away in top gear at about 15mph and still pull when the throttle was slowly opened, gaining momentum as 30mph was reached. 80mph was the most I did, the airstream wanted to grab hold of me and tear me off the machine.
Three weeks into ownership, my yearning for an Harley at its height, I managed to radically shorten the wheelbase of the LS. One of those red Post Office vans crossed my path without any warning. I felt the forks buckle and whip about as I applied massive, desperate force to the brake lever, but to little effect. Hit the side of the van we did. The elastic forks took most of the shock, I merely thrown a couple of feet off the seat rather than over the bars. I landed on the tank, battering a very sensitive bit of my anatomy, letting loose an involuntary yowl.
'Sorry mate, I didn't see you,' was the far from original refrain from the van's driver, who compounded his sin by bursting into laughter at the expression of pain written deep in my face. The plod turned up before I could figure out a suitable revenge - the van had only the mildest of dents - the usual hassle with doc's ensued, they disappointed that I had all mine on me! I suggested that the least they could do was book the van driver for dangerous driving but they just looked at me as if I'd crawled out from under a rock. The biggest cop bore down on me, told me I wasn't injured, was I (like hell, I couldn't walk properly for days afterwards), therefore no need to get them wasting time on paperwork, was there? His mate was frantically trying to tear various cycle parts off the Savage, so I thought get out of there before things turned even more desperate.
One of the worst days of my life. Pushing a buckled motorcycle two miles whilst my swollen groin screamed in agony every step I took. My bad luck couldn't last, could it? A few days later I approached the local Harley dealer about HP and a trade-in deal. He wouldn't touch even a straight LS with a barge-pole - 'I'm not having one of those horrible things in my showroom, boy!' - and my credit rating was on a par with an Indonesian bank.
Red of face, black of mind, and broken of heart, I went home, pulled off the LS's forks and took them to the local mechanic who had straightening gear. He reckoned there was a fifty-fifty chance of them snapping and, of course, they did! He still charged me thirty quid! Phoned about twenty breakers before a front end turned up, was sent COD. Came two days later but the forks had the telltale marks of being straightened - they had cost 120 notes! I phoned the breaker, made all kinds of threats, but the reality was that there weren't any better ones on offer anywhere. Strangely, the front wheel wasn't buckled, so it wasn't a total disaster.
The reassembled machine was put back to work in the commuter bump and grind. No real problems, I kept my eyes open and my hand on the brake lever! You never know what these cagers are going to do, do you? If the bike had been six inches shorter, it would've been ideal for hacking through traffic. The motor and riding position certainly gave a very relaxed ride.
On the bad side, the guards threw up huge amounts of road grime; on the good side, it came off easily and the finish was the best I've experienced on a Japanese bike. Heavy rain made the bike stutter occasionally but the big thumper never conked out completely - a mudflap would probably have totally eradicated the problem, but there was no way of fitting one without ruining the looks of the front end.
Harleys were beginning to fade into the back of my mind, the Savage giving out lots of good vibes, when, after two months of rainy weather, I discovered that the fork seals were blown. Didn't make much difference to town work, but take the bike on a weekend outing, any kind of serious speed had the front end wobbling away fiercely. Short-lived seals aren't inherent to the design, although they are open to all the crud, more a function of the front forks being straightened out.
New seals fitted, I added plenty of grease and hoped for the best. Winter was starting to close in, the Savage leaving me stuck out in the freezing airstream and an easy target for a soaking through from the sudden downpours. I've never ridden a bike on which my hands and balls got so cold and wet! I think I ground about 3mm off my teeth by the time February was breeched!
Customs have odd steering geometry, not well suited to slippery English roads, but the Savage also had a reassuringly low centre of gravity and actually felt safer than some more sporting bikes I've owned - at least at low speeds on winter roads. Bottom line, I never fell off even in atrocious conditions - like black ice and a howling gale to my side. The finish stood up equally well, just a bit of alloy rot that cleaned up without too much effort.
Thumping along slowly, the vintage charm of the steed was matched by vintage economy - the best I ever managed was 75mpg, 70mpg no great hassle. More spirited riding would take that down to as little as 60mpg, but still pretty good by the pathetic standards of modern machinery. Consumables, in 9000 miles, didn't appear to wear at all - gentle riding pays off! It's one of the few Japanese singles that does actually behave in its power characteristics like an old fifties British relic and would make a brilliant retro if installed in a street chassis.
After a bit less than a year's ownership I was ready for a change - yes, I wanted a Harley. By then I had a better job and was able to sign up for the dreaded HP. I phoned around half a dozen Harley Davidson dealers until I found someone who didn't turn his nose up at the Savage and gave me a good trade-in deal on a newish 883 Sportster.
Seventh Heaven? It took a few weeks before I became used to the new bike's ways, felt a bit like a two-wheeled tractor after the Savage, but I've got the hang of it now and can't get enough. The Suzuki is a good stepping stone on the way to Harley nirvana but can't compare with the real thing! Put the engine in a sensible chassis and I'd love to have one as a second bike for my serious motorcycling.
T.Y.
The LS's a 650cc thumper in a custom chassis. The engine makes loads of torque, the chassis is relatively lightweight and the overall package is quite impressive on the road. But? Well, it's not a Harley, is it? Commuting on a chopper is quite relaxing. Couldn't weave through the smaller gaps, despite its general narrowness it's also very long. The motor would thud away in top gear at about 15mph and still pull when the throttle was slowly opened, gaining momentum as 30mph was reached. 80mph was the most I did, the airstream wanted to grab hold of me and tear me off the machine.
Three weeks into ownership, my yearning for an Harley at its height, I managed to radically shorten the wheelbase of the LS. One of those red Post Office vans crossed my path without any warning. I felt the forks buckle and whip about as I applied massive, desperate force to the brake lever, but to little effect. Hit the side of the van we did. The elastic forks took most of the shock, I merely thrown a couple of feet off the seat rather than over the bars. I landed on the tank, battering a very sensitive bit of my anatomy, letting loose an involuntary yowl.
'Sorry mate, I didn't see you,' was the far from original refrain from the van's driver, who compounded his sin by bursting into laughter at the expression of pain written deep in my face. The plod turned up before I could figure out a suitable revenge - the van had only the mildest of dents - the usual hassle with doc's ensued, they disappointed that I had all mine on me! I suggested that the least they could do was book the van driver for dangerous driving but they just looked at me as if I'd crawled out from under a rock. The biggest cop bore down on me, told me I wasn't injured, was I (like hell, I couldn't walk properly for days afterwards), therefore no need to get them wasting time on paperwork, was there? His mate was frantically trying to tear various cycle parts off the Savage, so I thought get out of there before things turned even more desperate.
One of the worst days of my life. Pushing a buckled motorcycle two miles whilst my swollen groin screamed in agony every step I took. My bad luck couldn't last, could it? A few days later I approached the local Harley dealer about HP and a trade-in deal. He wouldn't touch even a straight LS with a barge-pole - 'I'm not having one of those horrible things in my showroom, boy!' - and my credit rating was on a par with an Indonesian bank.
Red of face, black of mind, and broken of heart, I went home, pulled off the LS's forks and took them to the local mechanic who had straightening gear. He reckoned there was a fifty-fifty chance of them snapping and, of course, they did! He still charged me thirty quid! Phoned about twenty breakers before a front end turned up, was sent COD. Came two days later but the forks had the telltale marks of being straightened - they had cost 120 notes! I phoned the breaker, made all kinds of threats, but the reality was that there weren't any better ones on offer anywhere. Strangely, the front wheel wasn't buckled, so it wasn't a total disaster.
The reassembled machine was put back to work in the commuter bump and grind. No real problems, I kept my eyes open and my hand on the brake lever! You never know what these cagers are going to do, do you? If the bike had been six inches shorter, it would've been ideal for hacking through traffic. The motor and riding position certainly gave a very relaxed ride.
On the bad side, the guards threw up huge amounts of road grime; on the good side, it came off easily and the finish was the best I've experienced on a Japanese bike. Heavy rain made the bike stutter occasionally but the big thumper never conked out completely - a mudflap would probably have totally eradicated the problem, but there was no way of fitting one without ruining the looks of the front end.
Harleys were beginning to fade into the back of my mind, the Savage giving out lots of good vibes, when, after two months of rainy weather, I discovered that the fork seals were blown. Didn't make much difference to town work, but take the bike on a weekend outing, any kind of serious speed had the front end wobbling away fiercely. Short-lived seals aren't inherent to the design, although they are open to all the crud, more a function of the front forks being straightened out.
New seals fitted, I added plenty of grease and hoped for the best. Winter was starting to close in, the Savage leaving me stuck out in the freezing airstream and an easy target for a soaking through from the sudden downpours. I've never ridden a bike on which my hands and balls got so cold and wet! I think I ground about 3mm off my teeth by the time February was breeched!
Customs have odd steering geometry, not well suited to slippery English roads, but the Savage also had a reassuringly low centre of gravity and actually felt safer than some more sporting bikes I've owned - at least at low speeds on winter roads. Bottom line, I never fell off even in atrocious conditions - like black ice and a howling gale to my side. The finish stood up equally well, just a bit of alloy rot that cleaned up without too much effort.
Thumping along slowly, the vintage charm of the steed was matched by vintage economy - the best I ever managed was 75mpg, 70mpg no great hassle. More spirited riding would take that down to as little as 60mpg, but still pretty good by the pathetic standards of modern machinery. Consumables, in 9000 miles, didn't appear to wear at all - gentle riding pays off! It's one of the few Japanese singles that does actually behave in its power characteristics like an old fifties British relic and would make a brilliant retro if installed in a street chassis.
After a bit less than a year's ownership I was ready for a change - yes, I wanted a Harley. By then I had a better job and was able to sign up for the dreaded HP. I phoned around half a dozen Harley Davidson dealers until I found someone who didn't turn his nose up at the Savage and gave me a good trade-in deal on a newish 883 Sportster.
Seventh Heaven? It took a few weeks before I became used to the new bike's ways, felt a bit like a two-wheeled tractor after the Savage, but I've got the hang of it now and can't get enough. The Suzuki is a good stepping stone on the way to Harley nirvana but can't compare with the real thing! Put the engine in a sensible chassis and I'd love to have one as a second bike for my serious motorcycling.
T.Y.
Yamaha XS650: Cute Custom
I didn't really want to buy the custom version of the XS650.
High and wide bars, short mufflers, odd looking seat and slightly kicked
out forks. Not the sort of engineering you want to see in a sickle infamous
for throwing speed wobbles above 80mph... of course, with those bars it
wasn't the kind of speed you'd ever attain. That was what the dealer told
me, also pointed to the 1250 note ticket price (written in blood that, luv,
no offers) and mere 9740 miles on the clock.
Ride this kind of beast fast, you fall off - no way the motor could've been thrashed despite being 17 years old. Well, it was all polished up nicely, suggesting the three owners had spent more time with the washing-up liquid than burning the rubber (some Taiwanese junk!). She fired up, thrummed away and seemed to shake the whole building. Put a set of new Avons on her, and I'll have it said I, reassured by the three month warranty.
Three days later I was grinning widely as I took my first ride through the quaint town of Bath. The tractor-like noise, the easy-rider style and my own gunge factor had the cagers doing a double take and getting out of the way as fast as their coffins allowed. Instant street credibility. A cop came running out of a side-street, looking most alarmed but I gave her some stick and left him eating the exhaust fumes. My grin widened then disappeared when I lurched through a tight gap, felt the heavy old dear (500lbs?) beginning to topple over. A booted foot down sent a rage of pain through my frame, cool dissipated but we survived the ordeal.
The bars were the widest part of the machine, had my arms splayed out, my shoulders complaining even at moderate velocities. The bike shook and rumbled in the first two gears, seemed to get nowhere fast. Much happier in third, fourth or fifth. Despite the dumb riding position the Yamaha felt reassuringly stable at low speeds and with no need to go mad on the gearbox it was a relaxed cruise through town if you didn't mind the muscle building needed to swing it through the tighter gaps.
Arriving home, I felt pleased with my purchase and it went down well with the wife and kids, the former relieved that it didn't look like an accident waiting to happen and that I hadn't blown all our money on a deposit for an R1! Two-up riding didn't made much difference to the performance, which was far from startling, more like some old tug that was mired in the concept of steady she goes. Any attempt at throttle abuse was met with an excess of vibes and noise, not much more power. Happy enough to hit 80mph, thereafter it just didn't want to know...
On one speed attempt it ground to a halt. I began to panic, visions of a seized motor uppermost in my mind. All the electrics were dead. The battery was full of white crud. This was four days into ownership. A phone call to the dealer revealed that the guarantee didn't cover consumables but he'd only charge me the price of a new battery to send someone out with one. Trouble was the battery was some expensive Japanese item, seventy-five notes! I think I was done every which way, but it got me home.
The XS has a rather strange generator - it needs power before it can generate any, no good trying to kick it over if the battery's a goner! No doubt fine when newish but a pain in the proverbial for old bikes. The new battery lasted three days before it too died a death, but not being entirely stupid I hadn't travelled very far. I phoned the dealer again who didn't really want to know until I mentioned my father was in the Inland Revenue (he was, too, ten years ago!). They had the bike for a day and all they did was charge the battery! Lasted two days this time. More phone calls and spent anger.
Turned out the regulator - a huge old black box with mechanical cut-outs - was off an earlier bike and didn't match the rest of the electrical system, according to the dealer. Impossible to get bits, mate, we'll give you five hundred notes for the bike as spares - can you believe these people? Needless to say, I demurred and headed for the local scrap yard where for a quid I found a regulator off some old cage. After some fiddling with the contacts, a reliable charge was attained and all was well with the world.
Took me a couple of weeks to become convinced that my handiwork was up to scratch. Then I decided on a long weekend with the wife, the kids dumped on the mother-in-law. Scotland was our destination but we gave up by the time we hit Leeds - the bike was too uncomfortable to take for more than an hour in a sitting, the wife soon screaming abuse at me. That's my excuse, anyway!
Handling was stable up to about 60mph, thereafter it weaved and wobbled a bit but nothing too dangerous. The riding position severely limited speeding, as did the vibes above 80mph in top gear. It was, after all, an old-fashioned vertical twin without any balancers, using an excess of mass to help soak up the thrumming. 70mph was where it felt happiest in its motor, 60mph in its chassis, so I settled on 65mph, which was a slow moving invitation to a rear end ramming on the motorway. Cagers expected me to ride on the hard shoulder, judging by all the horn work and irate gestures! No fun at all!
Trying to hustle through country road bends was limited by a lack of ground clearance and a worn pair of shocks that could become tied up in knots when the surface turned a bit rough. Again, mildly annoying rather than outright dangerous.
Tales of XS650 speed wobbles usually occur at 80-100mph, often with ill-distributed weight aboard (don't even think about speeding with a top-box out back!) but as the dealer reckoned, the custom layout stopped such nonsense dead in its tracks. I suppose it's one way around a poor chassis design, just make sure no-one's capable of speeding! Even at restrained velocities my arse quickly went into spasms of pain and the pillion fared even worse, complaining about her feet being vibrated off the pegs. And it wasn't the kind of buzzing that turned babes horny - worst luck! Probably the only reason Harley sell so many sickles.
So in some respects a useless pile of shit. But that's being rational which has no place in a motorcyclist's life - does it? After about a month I was becoming quietly enamoured of the old thing! There was an element of relentlessness about the motor, and the way it chuffed away like a vintage relic; and by then my body had adapted to the riding position - I thought about flat bars but the hassle of replacing the cables didn't exactly inspire.
I think the mileage's pretty genuine. No smoke out of the pipes, instant starting from cold and 65mpg. Also the gearbox's slick - I tried one 50,000 miler that needed great artistry and subtlety to change gears. Something not easily hidden and a sure guide to whether it's been clocked or not. It's well built, the most likely area of rot the silencers, which go from the inside out - can look fine until they suddenly fall off; give 'em a good kicking. You can expect at least 10,000 miles from all of the consumables. And the motor's about as tough as they come. Spare parts and even tuning kits are readily available.
Good value for money, fun riding if you don't want speed - ideal if your licence's close to expiring - but not much use as a serious, long distance motorcycle unless you're into excessive pain! Those used to modern bikes will be immediately annoyed by the roughness and directness of the mill, but it soon fades into the background. Give it a little time, you'll find your whole outlook on life changing for the better!
J.H.
Ride this kind of beast fast, you fall off - no way the motor could've been thrashed despite being 17 years old. Well, it was all polished up nicely, suggesting the three owners had spent more time with the washing-up liquid than burning the rubber (some Taiwanese junk!). She fired up, thrummed away and seemed to shake the whole building. Put a set of new Avons on her, and I'll have it said I, reassured by the three month warranty.
Three days later I was grinning widely as I took my first ride through the quaint town of Bath. The tractor-like noise, the easy-rider style and my own gunge factor had the cagers doing a double take and getting out of the way as fast as their coffins allowed. Instant street credibility. A cop came running out of a side-street, looking most alarmed but I gave her some stick and left him eating the exhaust fumes. My grin widened then disappeared when I lurched through a tight gap, felt the heavy old dear (500lbs?) beginning to topple over. A booted foot down sent a rage of pain through my frame, cool dissipated but we survived the ordeal.
The bars were the widest part of the machine, had my arms splayed out, my shoulders complaining even at moderate velocities. The bike shook and rumbled in the first two gears, seemed to get nowhere fast. Much happier in third, fourth or fifth. Despite the dumb riding position the Yamaha felt reassuringly stable at low speeds and with no need to go mad on the gearbox it was a relaxed cruise through town if you didn't mind the muscle building needed to swing it through the tighter gaps.
Arriving home, I felt pleased with my purchase and it went down well with the wife and kids, the former relieved that it didn't look like an accident waiting to happen and that I hadn't blown all our money on a deposit for an R1! Two-up riding didn't made much difference to the performance, which was far from startling, more like some old tug that was mired in the concept of steady she goes. Any attempt at throttle abuse was met with an excess of vibes and noise, not much more power. Happy enough to hit 80mph, thereafter it just didn't want to know...
On one speed attempt it ground to a halt. I began to panic, visions of a seized motor uppermost in my mind. All the electrics were dead. The battery was full of white crud. This was four days into ownership. A phone call to the dealer revealed that the guarantee didn't cover consumables but he'd only charge me the price of a new battery to send someone out with one. Trouble was the battery was some expensive Japanese item, seventy-five notes! I think I was done every which way, but it got me home.
The XS has a rather strange generator - it needs power before it can generate any, no good trying to kick it over if the battery's a goner! No doubt fine when newish but a pain in the proverbial for old bikes. The new battery lasted three days before it too died a death, but not being entirely stupid I hadn't travelled very far. I phoned the dealer again who didn't really want to know until I mentioned my father was in the Inland Revenue (he was, too, ten years ago!). They had the bike for a day and all they did was charge the battery! Lasted two days this time. More phone calls and spent anger.
Turned out the regulator - a huge old black box with mechanical cut-outs - was off an earlier bike and didn't match the rest of the electrical system, according to the dealer. Impossible to get bits, mate, we'll give you five hundred notes for the bike as spares - can you believe these people? Needless to say, I demurred and headed for the local scrap yard where for a quid I found a regulator off some old cage. After some fiddling with the contacts, a reliable charge was attained and all was well with the world.
Took me a couple of weeks to become convinced that my handiwork was up to scratch. Then I decided on a long weekend with the wife, the kids dumped on the mother-in-law. Scotland was our destination but we gave up by the time we hit Leeds - the bike was too uncomfortable to take for more than an hour in a sitting, the wife soon screaming abuse at me. That's my excuse, anyway!
Handling was stable up to about 60mph, thereafter it weaved and wobbled a bit but nothing too dangerous. The riding position severely limited speeding, as did the vibes above 80mph in top gear. It was, after all, an old-fashioned vertical twin without any balancers, using an excess of mass to help soak up the thrumming. 70mph was where it felt happiest in its motor, 60mph in its chassis, so I settled on 65mph, which was a slow moving invitation to a rear end ramming on the motorway. Cagers expected me to ride on the hard shoulder, judging by all the horn work and irate gestures! No fun at all!
Trying to hustle through country road bends was limited by a lack of ground clearance and a worn pair of shocks that could become tied up in knots when the surface turned a bit rough. Again, mildly annoying rather than outright dangerous.
Tales of XS650 speed wobbles usually occur at 80-100mph, often with ill-distributed weight aboard (don't even think about speeding with a top-box out back!) but as the dealer reckoned, the custom layout stopped such nonsense dead in its tracks. I suppose it's one way around a poor chassis design, just make sure no-one's capable of speeding! Even at restrained velocities my arse quickly went into spasms of pain and the pillion fared even worse, complaining about her feet being vibrated off the pegs. And it wasn't the kind of buzzing that turned babes horny - worst luck! Probably the only reason Harley sell so many sickles.
So in some respects a useless pile of shit. But that's being rational which has no place in a motorcyclist's life - does it? After about a month I was becoming quietly enamoured of the old thing! There was an element of relentlessness about the motor, and the way it chuffed away like a vintage relic; and by then my body had adapted to the riding position - I thought about flat bars but the hassle of replacing the cables didn't exactly inspire.
I think the mileage's pretty genuine. No smoke out of the pipes, instant starting from cold and 65mpg. Also the gearbox's slick - I tried one 50,000 miler that needed great artistry and subtlety to change gears. Something not easily hidden and a sure guide to whether it's been clocked or not. It's well built, the most likely area of rot the silencers, which go from the inside out - can look fine until they suddenly fall off; give 'em a good kicking. You can expect at least 10,000 miles from all of the consumables. And the motor's about as tough as they come. Spare parts and even tuning kits are readily available.
Good value for money, fun riding if you don't want speed - ideal if your licence's close to expiring - but not much use as a serious, long distance motorcycle unless you're into excessive pain! Those used to modern bikes will be immediately annoyed by the roughness and directness of the mill, but it soon fades into the background. Give it a little time, you'll find your whole outlook on life changing for the better!
J.H.
Honda CX500: Road to Ruin
The old CX was wrecked - an understatement! The bike had
scraped along the tarmac at high speed, tearing off the cylinder head and
cracking the cylinder/crankcase. The right side of the bike was dented and
battered but aside from the engine damage was basically intact; not even
the forks were twisted. The owner had taken much of the impact, receiving
a six month stay in hospital for his pains. Lack of insurance, MOT, road
tax, etc added to his woes and had the cops sweating with glee.
He wanted shot of the machine as fast as possible but managed a perfect rendition of shocked outrage when I suggested fifty notes was about right! After all, I'd have to push the old heap home. I reluctantly handed over twice my original offer after he'd agreed to strap the bike to the top of his cousin's cage's roof-rack. The cage turned out to be an old Mk.2 Cortina with more rust than paint - the roof visibly buckled under the CX's excessive mass. We shuddered the two miles to my house, unloaded the CX which snagged on the roof and tore a large slice out of the car, which seemed to be warped after all the effort. The owner didn't seem to notice, clattered off to never-never land.
What can you say about old CX's? Quite! They weren't exactly on the ball when brand, spanking new. The good news was that once they were running they could be kept going on a shoestring budget. Word was cast around for a replacement engine. The first few were rejected because I already knew that their owners had blown them up. What I ended up with was another crashed CX, but one in which the engine was unscathed (thanks to heavily mangled crash-bars - mandatory fitments) and could be heard running. Any engine without immediate rattling has to be considered good news in CX circles. Mine for yet another 100 notes - the cost was adding up!
So it was out with the old, in with the new, and a few better cycle parts added into the mix. Hey presto - a few bruised knuckles later - one working Honda CX500. And it ran as curiously as it looked. God knows how many miles the motor had done, or how it'd been butchered by past owners, but none of that really explained the way it lurched down the road in a series of kangaroo hops. I was relieved when all the violence disappeared as I knocked the box up to second - I soon decided that some teeth must be missing off first gear - it was that violent!
That was about all the violence the motor had in it, acceleration best described as stately. Just as well, really, because it liked to pull to the left, startling quite a few ped's until I learnt to compensate for it with a bit of counter-steering. The brakes were diabolical - either all or nothing, with a mind of their own that made for uneasy times on slippery, wet roads. Engine braking was like a kick in the kidneys but helped slow the old bus down. Handling was what you'd expect on an aged CX - soft and soggy, predictable in a loose kind of way. It never bit back violently and the whole thing would wobble through the bends with all the precision of a faulty exocet missile.
The main purpose of the old hack was to rush through Central London traffic, which given its density needed neither excess power nor speed. The CX was a bit barge-like at low speeds, needing a determined tug on the bars to get it to go where I wanted. It wasn't that wide, didn't go wild when assaulted by the deeper pot-holes and meandered along with a feeling of total invincibility - this was doubtless all in my mind; if I took the sides of a couple of cars off it wouldn't make the CX any more wrecked than it already was - I'd already taken the precaution of fitting a massive set of crash-bars. Judging by the screams of one ped who got in the way, they were highly effective - he even drowned out the awful racket emitted by the 'silencers' which were about as rotted as they could get without actually falling off. One good kick would've destroyed them completely!
Time went by, mileage built up, without any obvious further deterioration. A gentle hand on the controls needed - your average yob's penchant for wheelie starts, for instance, would've destroyed the engine in about thirty seconds. No, old hacks have to be cultivated, caressed gently along and given the odd encouraging word - works wonders! At least until some terminal mechanical demise catches up with you.
In my case it was the good old camchain blues. The bike actually has pushrod controlled valvegear but the camshaft's driven by a chain which is notorious for its easy demise. With no warning whatsoever, my camchain snapped - metal fatigue, I'd guess - leaving me with a dead motor in the middle of the splendid English countryside. God was out to get me that day, no sooner had the Honda stalled than the blue skies turned black and it was monsoon time! In disgust, I cut my losses, threw the terrible vee into the nearest ditch and waddled off towards the nearest town. Two buses later, I was back home.
My next door neighbour heard out my tale of woe and volunteered his ancient Bedford van for the rescue mission. One soggy CX was eventually pulled out of the ditch by the simple expedient of tying a rope to its handlebars and leaving enough slack so that the van could bounce up to 30mph before the rope caught. Magically, the bike flipped out of the ditch and crashed down on to the road, dragged along for about a hundred yards. The old bruiser did more damage to the tarmac than itself!
A used camchain was fitted and the motor fired up. Somehow, it'd avoided mangling its valves, though there was a bit more top end rattle and high speed runs needed even more effort. More than 90mph was impossible and the bike was turning in about 40mpg - against 110mph and 55mpg from a newish example. Nevertheless, it was still a useful city hack that thumped through the traffic with the added safely factor of its extremely loud exhaust - the deep bass rumble at low revs in top gear seemed to vibrate the tarmac, redolent of a tank on the rampage!
Although the CX was never the most popular of motorcycles in its day, often the subject of open derision, it does have a fanatical following and anyone who rides one today will be subjected to much attention from current and past owners, who will come up with all kinds of interesting theories and observations. I've even seen a couple of chopped examples and they are popular with the rat bike crowd, a category that my bike could easily attain. One guy claimed to have done 220,000 miles on the original engine (more or less, he wouldn't admit to the number of camchains replaced!), many have certainly taken them around the clock - once Honda sorted out their original problems they proved to be tough!
The going rate for a runner is under 500 notes; twice that should buy a very good example. Most engine spares are still available on the used circuit but cycle parts have mostly rusted through. The early, twin shock 500's are considered the real CX's, though the CX650 developed the design into something more substantial and there are still odd low milers around for somewhat over the grand mark.
Me? Sensing that the end isn't far off, I've just bought a GS450 for 300 notes; running engine but smashed up chassis. All I have to do is work out how to fit the CX bits! Gonna be way cool...
H.G.R.
He wanted shot of the machine as fast as possible but managed a perfect rendition of shocked outrage when I suggested fifty notes was about right! After all, I'd have to push the old heap home. I reluctantly handed over twice my original offer after he'd agreed to strap the bike to the top of his cousin's cage's roof-rack. The cage turned out to be an old Mk.2 Cortina with more rust than paint - the roof visibly buckled under the CX's excessive mass. We shuddered the two miles to my house, unloaded the CX which snagged on the roof and tore a large slice out of the car, which seemed to be warped after all the effort. The owner didn't seem to notice, clattered off to never-never land.
What can you say about old CX's? Quite! They weren't exactly on the ball when brand, spanking new. The good news was that once they were running they could be kept going on a shoestring budget. Word was cast around for a replacement engine. The first few were rejected because I already knew that their owners had blown them up. What I ended up with was another crashed CX, but one in which the engine was unscathed (thanks to heavily mangled crash-bars - mandatory fitments) and could be heard running. Any engine without immediate rattling has to be considered good news in CX circles. Mine for yet another 100 notes - the cost was adding up!
So it was out with the old, in with the new, and a few better cycle parts added into the mix. Hey presto - a few bruised knuckles later - one working Honda CX500. And it ran as curiously as it looked. God knows how many miles the motor had done, or how it'd been butchered by past owners, but none of that really explained the way it lurched down the road in a series of kangaroo hops. I was relieved when all the violence disappeared as I knocked the box up to second - I soon decided that some teeth must be missing off first gear - it was that violent!
That was about all the violence the motor had in it, acceleration best described as stately. Just as well, really, because it liked to pull to the left, startling quite a few ped's until I learnt to compensate for it with a bit of counter-steering. The brakes were diabolical - either all or nothing, with a mind of their own that made for uneasy times on slippery, wet roads. Engine braking was like a kick in the kidneys but helped slow the old bus down. Handling was what you'd expect on an aged CX - soft and soggy, predictable in a loose kind of way. It never bit back violently and the whole thing would wobble through the bends with all the precision of a faulty exocet missile.
The main purpose of the old hack was to rush through Central London traffic, which given its density needed neither excess power nor speed. The CX was a bit barge-like at low speeds, needing a determined tug on the bars to get it to go where I wanted. It wasn't that wide, didn't go wild when assaulted by the deeper pot-holes and meandered along with a feeling of total invincibility - this was doubtless all in my mind; if I took the sides of a couple of cars off it wouldn't make the CX any more wrecked than it already was - I'd already taken the precaution of fitting a massive set of crash-bars. Judging by the screams of one ped who got in the way, they were highly effective - he even drowned out the awful racket emitted by the 'silencers' which were about as rotted as they could get without actually falling off. One good kick would've destroyed them completely!
Time went by, mileage built up, without any obvious further deterioration. A gentle hand on the controls needed - your average yob's penchant for wheelie starts, for instance, would've destroyed the engine in about thirty seconds. No, old hacks have to be cultivated, caressed gently along and given the odd encouraging word - works wonders! At least until some terminal mechanical demise catches up with you.
In my case it was the good old camchain blues. The bike actually has pushrod controlled valvegear but the camshaft's driven by a chain which is notorious for its easy demise. With no warning whatsoever, my camchain snapped - metal fatigue, I'd guess - leaving me with a dead motor in the middle of the splendid English countryside. God was out to get me that day, no sooner had the Honda stalled than the blue skies turned black and it was monsoon time! In disgust, I cut my losses, threw the terrible vee into the nearest ditch and waddled off towards the nearest town. Two buses later, I was back home.
My next door neighbour heard out my tale of woe and volunteered his ancient Bedford van for the rescue mission. One soggy CX was eventually pulled out of the ditch by the simple expedient of tying a rope to its handlebars and leaving enough slack so that the van could bounce up to 30mph before the rope caught. Magically, the bike flipped out of the ditch and crashed down on to the road, dragged along for about a hundred yards. The old bruiser did more damage to the tarmac than itself!
A used camchain was fitted and the motor fired up. Somehow, it'd avoided mangling its valves, though there was a bit more top end rattle and high speed runs needed even more effort. More than 90mph was impossible and the bike was turning in about 40mpg - against 110mph and 55mpg from a newish example. Nevertheless, it was still a useful city hack that thumped through the traffic with the added safely factor of its extremely loud exhaust - the deep bass rumble at low revs in top gear seemed to vibrate the tarmac, redolent of a tank on the rampage!
Although the CX was never the most popular of motorcycles in its day, often the subject of open derision, it does have a fanatical following and anyone who rides one today will be subjected to much attention from current and past owners, who will come up with all kinds of interesting theories and observations. I've even seen a couple of chopped examples and they are popular with the rat bike crowd, a category that my bike could easily attain. One guy claimed to have done 220,000 miles on the original engine (more or less, he wouldn't admit to the number of camchains replaced!), many have certainly taken them around the clock - once Honda sorted out their original problems they proved to be tough!
The going rate for a runner is under 500 notes; twice that should buy a very good example. Most engine spares are still available on the used circuit but cycle parts have mostly rusted through. The early, twin shock 500's are considered the real CX's, though the CX650 developed the design into something more substantial and there are still odd low milers around for somewhat over the grand mark.
Me? Sensing that the end isn't far off, I've just bought a GS450 for 300 notes; running engine but smashed up chassis. All I have to do is work out how to fit the CX bits! Gonna be way cool...
H.G.R.
Saturday, 17 January 2015
Honda CBR900: Speedin' to Excess
The CBR900 had
me in its sights for a long time but it was only in 1997 that the price
was right. A three year old for £2750. Ain't life fuckin' wonderful!
I tested the bike in the usual way - full throttle, massive wheelie take-off
- if that and coming down to earth with an alarming bang didn't kill it
then it must be okay. It survived. My enthusiasm even survived the blank
look on the fourth owner's face when I mentioned oil changes and servicing.
My previous mount sold the week before for £2500 - a prime meat example of the Z1000, which just goes to show how strange the used motorcycle market has gone. I was used to meaty power, excess weight and handling out of the ark. The CBR900 had much more power any way you want to look at it and was carting along at least 150lbs less metal. It doesn't take an Einstein to work out the consequences; the major one being yours truly getting stuck in like a dog with two pricks.
It took approximately 90 minutes for the plod to get in on the act. Some porcine (literally, triple chins at 25!) bastard had his notebook out after his mate in the driving seat had almost rammed me into the armco. 'Did we know, sir (heavy sarcastic emphasis), that doing 125mph between two cars was likely to end up with a prison term?' I pointed out that one of the cars was undertaking me! Some blighter in a big Merc who was already well gone. This was ignored, I was told that I was going to be done for dangerous driving as well as being 55mph over the speed limit. The porcine one gave me a wink, waited for a few seconds before starting to write out the ticket - was he hoping for a bribe? I gave the old owner's name and address, which came up on their computer and laughed all the way home. Got one over on the buggers!
The CBR spent the next half hour swinging through my favourite country lanes. Couldn't believe how far over it would go without coming unstuck. A couple of times I went into bends too fast, twitched the bike upright and slammed the anchors on - the Honda didn't like that kind of treatment, the front wheel slamming around and needing an excess of muscle to avoid riding off the road or into an oncoming car. Twitchy little bugger, thought I, but then I would never have tried such speeds on the Z which would have thrown me off, dug up the road, written a few cars off and destroyed any loose farm animals - and in all probability still be ready for more!
I wasn't actually going into bends too fast for the CBR, I soon found out that there was plenty of grip in hand and that there was no need to back off! This was all well weird, used as I was to hanging off the side of the Z whilst it tried to imitate a buffalo with a hot poker up its backside. The monstrous power available at the flick of a wrist had to be held in utmost reverence; try it on too hard then the back would go sideways, probably even backwards. Even coming out of bends with a mild bit of throttle action in, say, third, had the front end going all light and twitchy, though it never tried a Z-like stop to stop speed wobble - the Z did it with both wheels firmly on the tarmac, down to crap suspension, weight distribution and steering geometry, not to mention a frame that could suddenly turn plastic.
It took me a while to get used to this. Kids who'd grown up on such devices showed me up no end in the early days. Even CBR600 mounted youths could leave me for dead in a series of curves. Watching them getting their knees (elbows in one case!) down was highly inspiring. I followed their lines and angles of lean, scaring myself silly when the power pulsed in and the back tyre started to patter with the sheer excess of the forces involved. I never did find the ultimate limit; that is, when you fall off! But I had some fun doing power slides out of curves on slightly damp roads; I could feel the point at which the Michelins were about to let loose! Try that on some old hulk like the Z and you'd end up a hospital case.
The one area where the CBR was lacking was that of comfort. Obviously, it's a replica which therefore needs speed to make any sense, but the seat's resemblance to a plank was either built in or down to 33000 miles worth of wear and oversized previous owners. Fuel consumption was around 30mpg, tyres about 3000 miles and brake pads circa 4500 miles. That added up to heavy costs but what the hell...
Hell was where I would've liked to fling the bike when all systems failed about sixty miles from home. It took me but a few moments to deduce that it was the electrics which had gone down. Namely, one expensively melted battery, the result of an equally dead rectifier. The wiring had been poked about by someone with a death-wish, a couple of bared wires jigging about in all probability causing the machine's downfall. It took three hundred quid and a couple of hours of an auto-electrician's time to sort the mess out! I'm old enough to recall a time when you could buy a jolly good motorcycle for that kind of dosh!
Gave the Honda a heavy thrashing after that incident, just to convince myself that it was worth the hassle. Yes, yes, yes. I was inspired to spend my hol's roaring around the South of France at warp speed and ignoring the Frog Pigs who couldn't keep up! Ran into a couple of characters from one of the glossies, was shocked to find the rumours were true - was offered enough drugs to write off a sane person's liver and propositioned by one desperate guy! Poor chap thought he was Hunter S Thompson in drag! I managed to get out of it without resorting to violence.
The CBR buzzed along at improbable revs and speeds, the only hassle keeping my body temperature down in the fierce summer heat. After one crazy trip I could hear the coolant bubbling in the radiator! 185mph on the clock was the most I saw (I know, it was probably optimistic), which I thought was amazing for an engine that then sported more than 40,000 miles on the clock! One worrying sign, the motor began to eat up the lubricant at a rate that emptied the sump in 500 miles. I took this as a sign not to do any more oil changes, no point if it was all going to be burnt off, was there?
Back home, the bike was a bit more vibratory, with some surge at low revs. I put this down to the fact that I'd never touched the carbs (the previous owner told me it wasn't necessary!). On the overrun, there were puffs of white smoke out of the exhaust but it still screamed along at incredible rates of acceleration and velocity.
With 46,456 miles on the clock the CBR ground to a halt with a large bang! I just managed to hit the clutch before the bike was thrown off the road. After great expense, the bike was back home and I had the engine in a million pieces. A broken con-rod was the culprit, which had messed up the whole mill. After the usual round of insults a used motor was installed but this turned out to be a bit of a dog with no inclination to go over 150mph. Must've done a high mileage.
The local dealers didn't want to know as far as a trade-in deal or sale went but I got shot of the bike for 2500 notes on the private market. A bit of a loss but I'd had more than my money's worth as far as on the road kicks go. A total licence kill (don't register the bike in your name), an outrageously fast piece of kit that's still well on the pace and handles better than most other bikes. Takes a bit of time and skill to master but responds well to a firm hand. Of course, there was only one thing to do after the CBR - use the dosh as a deposit on an R1.
Dave F.
My previous mount sold the week before for £2500 - a prime meat example of the Z1000, which just goes to show how strange the used motorcycle market has gone. I was used to meaty power, excess weight and handling out of the ark. The CBR900 had much more power any way you want to look at it and was carting along at least 150lbs less metal. It doesn't take an Einstein to work out the consequences; the major one being yours truly getting stuck in like a dog with two pricks.
It took approximately 90 minutes for the plod to get in on the act. Some porcine (literally, triple chins at 25!) bastard had his notebook out after his mate in the driving seat had almost rammed me into the armco. 'Did we know, sir (heavy sarcastic emphasis), that doing 125mph between two cars was likely to end up with a prison term?' I pointed out that one of the cars was undertaking me! Some blighter in a big Merc who was already well gone. This was ignored, I was told that I was going to be done for dangerous driving as well as being 55mph over the speed limit. The porcine one gave me a wink, waited for a few seconds before starting to write out the ticket - was he hoping for a bribe? I gave the old owner's name and address, which came up on their computer and laughed all the way home. Got one over on the buggers!
The CBR spent the next half hour swinging through my favourite country lanes. Couldn't believe how far over it would go without coming unstuck. A couple of times I went into bends too fast, twitched the bike upright and slammed the anchors on - the Honda didn't like that kind of treatment, the front wheel slamming around and needing an excess of muscle to avoid riding off the road or into an oncoming car. Twitchy little bugger, thought I, but then I would never have tried such speeds on the Z which would have thrown me off, dug up the road, written a few cars off and destroyed any loose farm animals - and in all probability still be ready for more!
I wasn't actually going into bends too fast for the CBR, I soon found out that there was plenty of grip in hand and that there was no need to back off! This was all well weird, used as I was to hanging off the side of the Z whilst it tried to imitate a buffalo with a hot poker up its backside. The monstrous power available at the flick of a wrist had to be held in utmost reverence; try it on too hard then the back would go sideways, probably even backwards. Even coming out of bends with a mild bit of throttle action in, say, third, had the front end going all light and twitchy, though it never tried a Z-like stop to stop speed wobble - the Z did it with both wheels firmly on the tarmac, down to crap suspension, weight distribution and steering geometry, not to mention a frame that could suddenly turn plastic.
It took me a while to get used to this. Kids who'd grown up on such devices showed me up no end in the early days. Even CBR600 mounted youths could leave me for dead in a series of curves. Watching them getting their knees (elbows in one case!) down was highly inspiring. I followed their lines and angles of lean, scaring myself silly when the power pulsed in and the back tyre started to patter with the sheer excess of the forces involved. I never did find the ultimate limit; that is, when you fall off! But I had some fun doing power slides out of curves on slightly damp roads; I could feel the point at which the Michelins were about to let loose! Try that on some old hulk like the Z and you'd end up a hospital case.
The one area where the CBR was lacking was that of comfort. Obviously, it's a replica which therefore needs speed to make any sense, but the seat's resemblance to a plank was either built in or down to 33000 miles worth of wear and oversized previous owners. Fuel consumption was around 30mpg, tyres about 3000 miles and brake pads circa 4500 miles. That added up to heavy costs but what the hell...
Hell was where I would've liked to fling the bike when all systems failed about sixty miles from home. It took me but a few moments to deduce that it was the electrics which had gone down. Namely, one expensively melted battery, the result of an equally dead rectifier. The wiring had been poked about by someone with a death-wish, a couple of bared wires jigging about in all probability causing the machine's downfall. It took three hundred quid and a couple of hours of an auto-electrician's time to sort the mess out! I'm old enough to recall a time when you could buy a jolly good motorcycle for that kind of dosh!
Gave the Honda a heavy thrashing after that incident, just to convince myself that it was worth the hassle. Yes, yes, yes. I was inspired to spend my hol's roaring around the South of France at warp speed and ignoring the Frog Pigs who couldn't keep up! Ran into a couple of characters from one of the glossies, was shocked to find the rumours were true - was offered enough drugs to write off a sane person's liver and propositioned by one desperate guy! Poor chap thought he was Hunter S Thompson in drag! I managed to get out of it without resorting to violence.
The CBR buzzed along at improbable revs and speeds, the only hassle keeping my body temperature down in the fierce summer heat. After one crazy trip I could hear the coolant bubbling in the radiator! 185mph on the clock was the most I saw (I know, it was probably optimistic), which I thought was amazing for an engine that then sported more than 40,000 miles on the clock! One worrying sign, the motor began to eat up the lubricant at a rate that emptied the sump in 500 miles. I took this as a sign not to do any more oil changes, no point if it was all going to be burnt off, was there?
Back home, the bike was a bit more vibratory, with some surge at low revs. I put this down to the fact that I'd never touched the carbs (the previous owner told me it wasn't necessary!). On the overrun, there were puffs of white smoke out of the exhaust but it still screamed along at incredible rates of acceleration and velocity.
With 46,456 miles on the clock the CBR ground to a halt with a large bang! I just managed to hit the clutch before the bike was thrown off the road. After great expense, the bike was back home and I had the engine in a million pieces. A broken con-rod was the culprit, which had messed up the whole mill. After the usual round of insults a used motor was installed but this turned out to be a bit of a dog with no inclination to go over 150mph. Must've done a high mileage.
The local dealers didn't want to know as far as a trade-in deal or sale went but I got shot of the bike for 2500 notes on the private market. A bit of a loss but I'd had more than my money's worth as far as on the road kicks go. A total licence kill (don't register the bike in your name), an outrageously fast piece of kit that's still well on the pace and handles better than most other bikes. Takes a bit of time and skill to master but responds well to a firm hand. Of course, there was only one thing to do after the CBR - use the dosh as a deposit on an R1.
Dave F.
Suzuki TL1000S: Every Dog Has Its Day
Mounting the TL1000S for the first time I expected the
worst. Tales of its handling nastiness legion. It had a natural riding position,
at least for me, and the engine revved with a gravelly edge that had me
full of enthusiasm. The Japanese had hopefully combined Italian gutsiness
with their inbuilt reliability. First impression were of an incredible shove
in the back from the motor laying down its power and easy handling. I'd
expected it to go for the on-coming cagers with a vengeance, but it went
where it was pointed, no hassle. That brief ride left the impression that
the bike was in a whole new league - compared to my venerable Honda CB750F1.
No, the owner wouldn't consider a part-ex and wondered why I was wasting his time with a ludicrous four grand offer for a 6000 mile, nine month old machine in absolutely pristine showroom condition. The more nefarious dealers could've clocked it and claimed it was brand new. You should've seen the look on his face when I thrust MCN under his nose - the shadow importers had them on offer for under six grand, new, and their handling reputation made them extremely slow movers. After some reconsideration, a severe ear-bashing from his wife, and an offer to throw the F1 into the deal, the bike was mine! I couldn't believe it! It was only then that I remembered to point out that the Honda needed an MOT, new pistons and valves...all's fair in love and war.
The glossies reckoned that anyone under twenty stone was going to have plenty of problems from the TL's rotary damper back end. As I weight just over nine stone, I was all ready to be thrown off at the first corner, though the bike had a steering damper and a ride harsh enough to suggest the suspension had been turned up to maximum. But it floated through the bends and scarpered along the straights at about twice the rate of the F1.
In fact, I soon gained the impression that I was going into the corners far too slowly and could've got away with much more speed. The low profile, fat tyres were a revelation in terms of grip and tenacity, also the angle to which the Suzuki could be thrown over. Bloody hell, I'll have to get myself some knee-sliders! Even more entertaining, the bike shot up to 160mph on one straight, the mildest of weaves from the back end indicating that, perhaps, things were going to turn nasty. At half that speed, the knackered Honda would try to throw itself off the road, so I was well ahead of the game. God knows how the F1's new owner got on; total culture shock, I think.
Used to that bike's lackadaisical brakes, giving the TL a handful had the front tyre screaming in protest and the bike doing a massive stoppie. For one moment I thought I was going to be thrown over the handlebars but the bike relented as I hurriedly eased off the pressure, just gave my spine a battering until the back end stopped the pogo-stick routine. For the next half mile the bike did, indeed, feel a bit like a twitchy carthorse - my guess, the violence of the back end leaping up and down under the mad braking overheated the rotary damper. It soon went back to precision city, though.
My mates, mostly Blade mounted, found my purchase of the TL a thing of great mirth. They looked a bit glum when I told them how little it had cost and weren't too amused when I burnt them off at the traffic light GP! Poseurs! True, my excess use of throttle had left the rear tyre smouldering away, taking off about a 1000 miles worth of tread! Compared with the Honda F1, which gave you enough time to compose a novel when either winding itself up or coming to a halt, the TL had an instantaneous reaction to inputs that took a little bit of getting used to. Understatement of the year!
The bike endeared itself to me no end when, in the rain, I gave it too much stick - rather than throwing me right off the road, it gave a near ninety degree twitch then hollered off as if nothing had happened. It was all quite odd in the wet - here was a bike with about ten times the grip of the Honda but speeds were about the same because I daren't use too much power and the brakes had me pissing myself because I was never quite sure how harsh the discs were going to be even just using one finger - made me all nostalgic for the F1's predictable lag. Sure!
The vee-twin motor liked to sing along at 6500-8000 revs. There was a wonderful excess of power and it smoothed out. At low revs it felt a bit too jerky but this was only in comparison to its sublimeness at high revs; compared to the worn out F1 it was paradise found even at its worst!
This is the problem that a lot of potential purchasers face. The glossies hype modern bikes and at the same time compare minor imperfections between the models as if they were huge and outrageous faults. Whereas to someone used to fading seventies and eighties superbikes they are the bees knees!
Consumables were more of a mixed bag. The O-ring chain, despite the outrageous power pulses, needed little attention rather than the F1's daily chore. The tyres were short-lived in the extreme, the Metz's reduced to baldness in less than 3000 miles - when the handling went quite vile above 70mph! With less than 1mm of tread left even the F1 could've taken the Suzuki in the bends. The F1 would do 10,000 miles on a set of Avons; the handling already so shot that the state of the tread made sod all difference. Brake pads were about the same 4500-5000 miles, although the Suzuki replacements cost nearly three times as much. I'm not complaining, though, any extra cost more than made up for by the excess of kicks.
Apart from the mentioned reaction to running around on worn out tyres (also, the front slides away with shocking ease in the wet when almost bald) the bike was shaken around on fast bumpy bends. Keep up that kind of riding for more than ten minutes, the rear damping faded a bit and gave the impression that the whole bike was about to go out of control. But it never did. Maybe it was the steering damper taking out the apparently inbuilt suicide antics or maybe it was just the press exaggerating a minor fault.
TL's are so hard to sell that it's bargain basement time. Outrageously fast, brilliantly braked and able to take corners much faster than the older style fours it may lose out to the latest spate of race rep's but all the money saved on the deal will let you have more fun on the open road. I'm converted, anyway! Doing three times my normal mileage and sporting the obligatory huge grin. The best four grand's worth in the land.
Martin Lawe
No, the owner wouldn't consider a part-ex and wondered why I was wasting his time with a ludicrous four grand offer for a 6000 mile, nine month old machine in absolutely pristine showroom condition. The more nefarious dealers could've clocked it and claimed it was brand new. You should've seen the look on his face when I thrust MCN under his nose - the shadow importers had them on offer for under six grand, new, and their handling reputation made them extremely slow movers. After some reconsideration, a severe ear-bashing from his wife, and an offer to throw the F1 into the deal, the bike was mine! I couldn't believe it! It was only then that I remembered to point out that the Honda needed an MOT, new pistons and valves...all's fair in love and war.
The glossies reckoned that anyone under twenty stone was going to have plenty of problems from the TL's rotary damper back end. As I weight just over nine stone, I was all ready to be thrown off at the first corner, though the bike had a steering damper and a ride harsh enough to suggest the suspension had been turned up to maximum. But it floated through the bends and scarpered along the straights at about twice the rate of the F1.
In fact, I soon gained the impression that I was going into the corners far too slowly and could've got away with much more speed. The low profile, fat tyres were a revelation in terms of grip and tenacity, also the angle to which the Suzuki could be thrown over. Bloody hell, I'll have to get myself some knee-sliders! Even more entertaining, the bike shot up to 160mph on one straight, the mildest of weaves from the back end indicating that, perhaps, things were going to turn nasty. At half that speed, the knackered Honda would try to throw itself off the road, so I was well ahead of the game. God knows how the F1's new owner got on; total culture shock, I think.
Used to that bike's lackadaisical brakes, giving the TL a handful had the front tyre screaming in protest and the bike doing a massive stoppie. For one moment I thought I was going to be thrown over the handlebars but the bike relented as I hurriedly eased off the pressure, just gave my spine a battering until the back end stopped the pogo-stick routine. For the next half mile the bike did, indeed, feel a bit like a twitchy carthorse - my guess, the violence of the back end leaping up and down under the mad braking overheated the rotary damper. It soon went back to precision city, though.
My mates, mostly Blade mounted, found my purchase of the TL a thing of great mirth. They looked a bit glum when I told them how little it had cost and weren't too amused when I burnt them off at the traffic light GP! Poseurs! True, my excess use of throttle had left the rear tyre smouldering away, taking off about a 1000 miles worth of tread! Compared with the Honda F1, which gave you enough time to compose a novel when either winding itself up or coming to a halt, the TL had an instantaneous reaction to inputs that took a little bit of getting used to. Understatement of the year!
The bike endeared itself to me no end when, in the rain, I gave it too much stick - rather than throwing me right off the road, it gave a near ninety degree twitch then hollered off as if nothing had happened. It was all quite odd in the wet - here was a bike with about ten times the grip of the Honda but speeds were about the same because I daren't use too much power and the brakes had me pissing myself because I was never quite sure how harsh the discs were going to be even just using one finger - made me all nostalgic for the F1's predictable lag. Sure!
The vee-twin motor liked to sing along at 6500-8000 revs. There was a wonderful excess of power and it smoothed out. At low revs it felt a bit too jerky but this was only in comparison to its sublimeness at high revs; compared to the worn out F1 it was paradise found even at its worst!
This is the problem that a lot of potential purchasers face. The glossies hype modern bikes and at the same time compare minor imperfections between the models as if they were huge and outrageous faults. Whereas to someone used to fading seventies and eighties superbikes they are the bees knees!
Consumables were more of a mixed bag. The O-ring chain, despite the outrageous power pulses, needed little attention rather than the F1's daily chore. The tyres were short-lived in the extreme, the Metz's reduced to baldness in less than 3000 miles - when the handling went quite vile above 70mph! With less than 1mm of tread left even the F1 could've taken the Suzuki in the bends. The F1 would do 10,000 miles on a set of Avons; the handling already so shot that the state of the tread made sod all difference. Brake pads were about the same 4500-5000 miles, although the Suzuki replacements cost nearly three times as much. I'm not complaining, though, any extra cost more than made up for by the excess of kicks.
Apart from the mentioned reaction to running around on worn out tyres (also, the front slides away with shocking ease in the wet when almost bald) the bike was shaken around on fast bumpy bends. Keep up that kind of riding for more than ten minutes, the rear damping faded a bit and gave the impression that the whole bike was about to go out of control. But it never did. Maybe it was the steering damper taking out the apparently inbuilt suicide antics or maybe it was just the press exaggerating a minor fault.
TL's are so hard to sell that it's bargain basement time. Outrageously fast, brilliantly braked and able to take corners much faster than the older style fours it may lose out to the latest spate of race rep's but all the money saved on the deal will let you have more fun on the open road. I'm converted, anyway! Doing three times my normal mileage and sporting the obligatory huge grin. The best four grand's worth in the land.
Martin Lawe
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
The Good Harley Guide
A lot of people, some who should know better, like to dismiss
the whole Harley range as overweight custom oddities - the kind of cycle
any proper biker would cross the road to avoid (true, Harley owners apply
the opposite discrimination, but that's probably just a case of self-defence).
Whilst it's true that the odd model could be thus described, it's unfair
to slag the whole range off. From relatively slimline Sportsters right up
to heavyweight cruisers, Harley offer different experiences but all based
on the concept of a 45 degree vee-twin engine of excessive capacity and
minimal power (in exchange for an excess of torque). If HD hadn't exactly
invented this design, by the late thirties they were well ahead of the game,
offering OHV's when most of their rivals were still toying with sidevalve
designs.
Many of these Knuckleheads, as they were quaintly known, are still intact and still being ridden in the States! Many of the later engine developments being retrofitted! This engine's the basic inspiration for all later designs, the way the bike has grown in engineering over the years all too apparent when inspecting the various models. Generally, whatever the die-hard fanatics might tell you, the bikes have become better over the years, much improved quality and reliability, whilst things like vibration absorption, general ride quality and handling are all in a brave new world.
Knuckleheads
As might be expected, Knuckleheads, which ran from 1936 to 1947, are expensive beasts in this time of classic mania - eight to ten grand for restored stuff. The Knucklehead sported 1000cc's of low compression vee-twin power controlled by a quaint hand gearchange mounted on the side of the petrol tank! For its day, it was a tasty bit of machinery only limited in sales by the depression era.
With its vintage look, solid rear end and girder forks, the Knucklehead has a natural stripped down, custom appearance that needs no additions - although most Harley owners like to customize their machines. Handling and braking are definitely deficient on modern roads but you can adapt to the bike's limitations. Mind, the mixture of around 40 horses, close to 600lbs and vintage suspension can be lethal on wet, bumpy roads if the rider doesn't know how to handle a proper motorcycle!
As the engine is basically an assemblage of simple components it's relatively easy to salvage and rebuild. This also means it's quite easy to bodge a mill together, get it running long enough to get it out of the street. Easy to blow a huge wedge - get the motor checked out by a proper Harley mechanic. Weak spots included the valves, stripped threads and knocking main bearings but a reasonably ridden and maintained bike should last 20-30,000 miles before the engine needs a rebuild - not that bad for a machine of this age and a reflection of its low revving, heavy torque nature. Bear in mind that modern materials improve the oil tightness and integrity of the valves - early models could be heavy old oil burners, as well as leaving large deposits of lubricant when parked up. An unfortunate feature that it shared with the even more vibratory British twins of the day.
Despite their age, the overwhelming aggressive nature of these ancient vee's, their sheer excessive character, can become kind of addictive. Technically, and on paper, later models are far superior, but out on the back roads a good Knucklehead (sounds kind of perverted...) can be a real delight. And their rareness means that they will keep on rising in value. Worth thinking about.
Panheads
The Panheads had a whole new top end, a much more complicated valve system that used oil to automatically maintain clearances (this was 1948!). Most Panheads were 1200 cc's in displacement, worth 50-60 horses depending on the model and state of tune. This kind of power in the vintage inspired chassis of the Knucklehead didn't sit very well and it took a mere year for proper telescopic forks to be fitted, although rear suspension didn't arrive until 1958! Novice Harley riders have a strong learning curve to master these bikes but they can be flung around with some elan once adapted to!
The basic Panhead engine and chassis, in later typical Harley manner, served as the basis for various models, the oddly named Hydra Glide being superseded by the Duo Glide when rear suspension was fitted. By the early fifties all models came with the benefit of foot gearchange. The final model year, of 1965, also saw the introduction of a bit more of modernity in the form of an electric start model, aptly named the Electra Glide, although, physically, it wasn't that different to the Duo Glide.
Due to the nature of the beast, there are lots of examples around with mixing and matching from various models. Along the way, Harley uprated the bottom end and tuned the top end (mid fifties) so you wouldn't want to put the latter on an earlier bottom end, would you? Some people have with entirely predictable results! A seriously nice and original or properly restored Panhead fetches as much as ten grand; a tired mixed and matched sample can go for under three grand, though the cost of sorting it out can be high. Most of the engine problems, nothing too major, were sorted along the way and should be part of historical lore rather than anything you might experience when buying one of these old bruisers. There are always exceptions!
My favourite out of these models, the Electra Glide. Not only because it got rid of the sometimes awkward starting (easy enough when you're eighteen but not when you're a crusty old bugger like me), but that the engine gave every impression of benefiting from its long gestation period. As sweet as a nut might be a gross exaggeration but as nice as the old style vee twins get. Plenty of torque, good reliability and a marvellously relaxed, laid back cruiser that will take American highways in their stride. You can find a really good one for 5000-6000 dollars in the States.
Sporsters
Some ignorant louts think the Sportster range as merely a smaller version of the big twins, whereas in reality it is a completely different engine. The most obvious disparity being the Sportster's unit construction whereas the bigger twins have separate engine and gearbox castings - god knows why and some where, some time, along the line the two engine types will merge into one!
The Sportster range owes its existence to the deluge of big British twins that threatened to overwhelm American roads back in the fifties, Harley needing a lighter, more sporting version of their 45 degree vee twin to compete.
They started off with the K series in 1952, whose sporting pretensions were undermined by its sidevalve cylinder head design, although they managed to get the mass down to 400lbs - a major achievement for Harley Davidson. The bike was conventional insofar as it had proper suspension and a foot gearchange but both the steering geometry and chassis strength were lacking compared to the better British twins of the day. Whereas the heavyweight Harleys managed more than 40 horses, the 750 vee twin didn't make more than 30hp and 85mph.
It didn't take long for Harley to uprate the engine to 883cc, allowing the bike to reach the ton - on a good day. Its sidevalve ancestry shown up in its lack of frugality - 35mpg when ridden at its limits. Lots of development went on along the way until a new model was introduced in 1957...in theory the later the model the better, but they are so old and have been so modded by past owners that the only thing that matters is how they run on the day of purchase.
The obvious upgrade to the K series was conversion to OHV's. Enter the XL series and Sportster designation. Retained were the K's chassis and, also, the pathetically short-lived 6V electrical system. Both weight and power increased, though the mix of 40 horses and 450lbs was a bit more intoxicating than earlier editions.
The basic XL model was soon joined by the XLH and XLCH, the latter using a high compression motor to churn out 54 horses against a rolling mass of nearly 500lbs despite sporting a minimally sized tank and svelte look. Fuel, on all models, had improved on the old sidevalve designs to around 50mpg.
Until 1972, when the engine was bored out to give a 1000cc's, the model was kept going with minor upgrades to electrics (12V, electric boot) and chassis (that included some GRP components!), with the result that it was becoming a bit long in the tooth. Though the basic unit had evolved into a reliable motor for everyday riding, only the most meticulous rebuild stopped it both leaking and consuming large quantities of oil. As well as the inbuilt temperamental clutch and electrics. The effect of legions of owners on reliability and usability make these bikes a difficult buy, reflected in prices for pre-seventies stuff ranging from 2000 to 6000 dollars. On the other hand, the ability to mix and match parts from the whole range of XL's does mean it's possible to build a remarkably effective road machine!
The 1000cc motor managed all of 60 horses without a noticeable increase in mass, though the vibes from the 45 degree vee-twin were much more pronounced than on other models, especially when experiencing the 120mph top speed. Brakes and handling weren't exactly up to such velocities; neither was the riding position which was oddly laid back for a machine with sporting pretensions.
Harley's only serious attempt at such a device came in 1977, with the XLCR, which was a mixture of flat track styling with a sensible riding position. It handled and braked better than other Sportsters but failed to sell to any extent.
Going back to its roots, Harley turned out a mild chopper version, the XLS Roadster whilst the XLH became more laid back with high bars and small tank. These bikes sold well! At this point AMF came on the scene, produced bikes with better frames and brakes - admittedly not that difficult. AMF Harleys, though better on paper than earlier models, are much derided by enthusiasts, so can be bargain buys at 2000 to 3000 bucks for stuff with loads of life left in it.
More notable were the budget priced XLX and the expensive, hot-rod XR. The former sold in large quantities - stripped down to basics it was the perfect purchase for those who liked to customize their own machine (which makes the used market interesting!), whilst the latter didn't inspire many despite its hot state of tune.
Perhaps the best buy out of these later Harleys is a 1984/5 XLH, which had wads of minor engine development work, modern(ish) suspension and brakes and a lovely line in style. Expect to pay 2000 to 3000 dollars in the States (and silly money in the UK) for a good example.
Shovelheads
By the mid sixties, the Sportsters were well established whilst the Panheads were beginning to show their age, more power needed. Enter the Shovelhead series, which had brand new top ends to help produce a bit more go. The weight, though, had increased further, over 650lbs on the FLH which made any theoretical gain in speed disappear completely. Things became even worse when panniers, top boxes, and other cruiser accessories were added. It needed a dedicated frame of mind to get the best out of the Harley but it would thunder along the open highway with the best of them, as long as there weren't any tight curves. The FLH Electra Glide came with the option of full touring rig right out of the factory, a hefty old beast at around 750lbs. Lots of early Shovelhead and late Panheads parts will swap.
Early seventies models had minor engine changes, the same excess weight with tighter pollution controls knocking the top speed down from over 100mph to under 90mph. Handling was limited by ground clearance and weaves as the top speed was approached. Braking was, at best, marginal. However, the police were equipped with not dissimilar bikes and had developed control techniques that allowed them to run cars off the road - something the braver road riders were able to emulate.
At this point, the Glide was a relaxed 70mph cruiser with an excess of style, limited by poor fuel economy (30-35mpg) and the unfortunate excess of mass, though it did have a stately feel once underway. By the late seventies it had a unique vintage feel! Harley's answer was the easy one, more cc's - 1340 in this case! No faster but more torque and also loads of vibration.
In 1980 the Tour Glide was introduced, sporting a new frame and an engine/swinging arm that were isolated from the rest of the chassis. The FLT weighed close to 800lbs but went where it was pointed, more or less, and didn't leave large furrows in the tarmac - a major improvement in big Harley riding! The FLT and FLH vied for supremacy in the Harley line up, with four and five speed gearboxes, belt and chain final drives and various styling options. These kept the range going until the Evolution engines turned up.
These are all big and heavy bikes, the FLT of note because of its relative lack of vibes and reasonable handling. Early Glides are more expensive than the rest, expect to pay anywhere from 3000 to 7000 dollars, depending on condition and originality. Around the 3500 dollar mark, a jolly nice Tour Glide with more than 30,000 miles on the clock offers the possibility of some serious big twin riding.
Super Glides
As might be expected, many people found the excesses of the FLH's and FLT's a bit too much, whilst the Sportsters weren't considered man enough (this is America, boy!). Enter the FX series. Super Glides used the Big Twin engine in 1200cc form but had a lack of excess and relatively svelte form that at first glance could pass for one of the better Sportsters - 550 to 600lbs depending on the model, with around 65 horses to play with.
This was at the beginning of the seventies but sales didn't really take off until an electric start and upgraded suspension were added in 1974. In the typical Harley way, this model (the FXE) was to form the basis of various variants over the coming years. These were more notable for their choice of model name rather than their engineering finesse - Fat Bob, Low Rider, Wide Glide. In fact, the early Super Glides ran better than these variants, though those into chopper styling will prefer the later bikes. Two to four thousand smackeroos will buy a rather nice early Super Glide.
It wasn't until the early 1980's that Harley did anything radical to the motor - belt drives fitted to both (the sometimes troublesome) primary and final drive. Enter the Sturgis, somewhat hindered by some heavy handed custom styling, over 600lbs of mass and a 65 inch wheelbase. It now sported the 1340cc engine, no more horsepower but wads of elephant-like torque. The bike would creak up to 110mph but was really best in the 40 to 80mph range. The belts helped engine smoothness and removed some maintenance chores. Once tested out on the Sturgis, they began to turn up in other models.
As with the Electra Glides, the engine was replaced by the Evo motor in 1984. With the Soft-tail model, added to the new motor was a rear end that looked like a rigid framed bike but had the shocks, in reality, hidden under the engine. Handling improvements were non-existent but the styling proved so popular that the Soft-tail back end gradually came to dominate the Super Glide range, with different variants trying to cater to different tastes.
The most notable was the 1988 Springer, which used updated forks inspired by early Harleys. Squint heavily, you might be back in the 1930's. This was followed by the Fat Boy and Heritage Nostalgia, both veering towards the full dress end of the market, albeit with some unique styling themes.
Of all these various models, I'd go for something around 1986 (when most of the minor engine problems were history), the much improved Evo engine was fitted and the styling had yet to go too heavy handed. Figure to pay 3000 to 6000 dollars, something heavily modded and thrashed being at the cheaper end of that range.
FXR Glides
The Super Glides started out as Big Twin Sportsters but ended up catering to the wannabe custom crowd, mostly down to the marketing success of various models. Not a company to give up on an idea easily, Harley introduced the FXR series in the early eighties. New frame, including partial insulation of the engine, stepped seat custom styling but a mere 600lbs of heavy metal with which to play. Notable for the sorted Shovelhead engine, better handling and the ability to blast through the ton (just!).
As usual, Harley used the basic chassis and engine to create various models - custom, touring, basic, etc. It wasn't until 1984 that the model went major league with the Evo engine and the FXRT and FXRS models. The former was the touring version but known as the Sport Glide whilst the latter was considered a mixture of sporting and custom Harley and known as the Low Rider. There was also a pig version, which turns up in the secondhand market in various guises. Later, the Low Rider gained custom forks and the Sport Glide heavier touring options.
It wasn't until the early nineties that the vibration insulation system was simplified and improved (the earlier bikes were known as Rubber Glides - or Rubber Cows by people who didn't appreciate Harley engineering). Again, various models were based on this package - Sturgis, Dyna Glide, Daytona, etc. The engine mounting system once tried out and perfected on this model was to become pervasive throughout the Harley range, which makes them both cute motorcycles and worthy of historical note! Currently available for reasonable sums these later models, both on their engineering and relative rareness, should go up in value over the coming years.
Evo Sportsters
1986 saw what are regarded as the modern Sportster range. Myriad engine improvements, lots of development and the final abandonment of iron cylinders for alloy, all added up to a more sophisticated and reliable motor that nonetheless lost none of its basic, raw nature (yes, there was some vibration). Offered as both an 883 and 1100cc model, the former was notable for its single seat, basic implementation and bargain basement price (much inflated by the time they got to the UK). Harley couldn't make enough of 'em to meet demand.
By European standards, it was a low powered, heavy vintage tractor of a motorcycle but it still had all the elements of Harley motorcycling - if it had crap brakes, rear suspension and lights it didn't really stop the lust. On paper, the fifty horses and 470lbs wasn't inspiring but the unique nature of the motor more than made up for that - at least on American highways where the speed limits were rigorously enforced. The 883 was dead on the beat at 50-60mph!
The 1100cc version was more interesting, performance-wise (in the loosest sense of the word), claiming 65 horses! The major difference between the engines was merely bore size. The bigger bore bike suffered from more vibration which almost limited any excesses in top speed (about 110mph on a good day). Both bikes have a good reputation for reliability and longevity, helped along by a lack of regular maintenance chores (single carb, automatic valve adjustment, etc).
Variations on the basic XL883 were offered, as well as the low saddle Hugger, but it wasn't until 1988 that anything major went down. The 1100cc model was bored out to 1200cc but it was really just more of the same stuff with an added bit of performance. Later, the four speed box became a (better, slicker) five speeder and belt drive was added to most models (and it's pretty damn good, too!). Having defined the basics so well, Harley have merely tinkered with them over the years.
Rough 883's go down to as little as 2000 dollars. Excellent 1200's can fetch five thousand bucks. In between those two extremes there are some remarkable bargains. Demand for new, basic 883's is still high as they offer the possibilities of doing a cheap custom job, getting unique wheels at a bargain price. The 883 can be upgraded to 1200 with new pistons and barrels (OE or performance stuff) and there are loads of tuning kit. It's quite easy to turn the 1200 into a 1340 beater!
Evo Glides
In 1984, the Electra Glides benefited from a major, though far from radical, engine redesign. Alloy cylinders the major upgrade, though the whole engine was worked over. To go with that, the new models had an isolated engine, as well as gearbox, and a new frame. Even if, at a quick glance, the new Tour and Electra Glides didn't look that different!
Better to go for next year's model, though, they had a five speed gearbox and much improved clutch/primary drive. There were variations on the same theme (big surprise, huh?) - Tour Glide, Tour Glide Ultra, Electra Glide Ultra, Ultra Classic, etc. These all added accessories and weight, a typical model tipping the scales at around the 800lb mark - a real man's bike if ever there was one.
The 1340cc motor was tuned for torque - you'd be lucky to get more than fifty horses out of one - and had the aerodynamics of a charging rhino. Weight, suspension and ground clearance limited any real attempts at sporting riding - but Harley had other models for that, anyway - the Electra Glides best on the Freeway, trundling along at 60mph with a monster bite of torque in hand to deal with anyone who was silly enough to get in the way.
These are all great bikes, in their excessive, over the top ways, and you won't find much under the 5000 dollar mark. Twice that, and more, needed for a relatively recent example. On the good side, it's almost impossible to thrash and abuse them. On the bad side, their sheer, excessive mass does mean they are easy to drop, but crash damage should be evident on even the most cursory of examinations - and they are just as likely to break the rider's leg as any of their own metalwork.
The best buys are the most recent ones, as Harley made, and continue to make, minor improvements. Having said that, owners also like to add better equipment and they do tend to lavish lots of love on these bikes, so one of the early Evo Glides, with lots of better-than-new accessories shouldn't be passed over.
In the States they do actually suffer from mild depreciation, unlike the UK where relative rareness means newish machines often sell at a premium! In the US there's not that many that have really been ridden to ruin, most are cherished and loved, polished up with pride. Given their excessive mass, the price differences between the UK and the USA probably doesn't warrant paying the extravagant shipping charges!
End Note
Given the state of most UMG's readers finances (mitigated, one guesses, by their overwhelming fanaticism for all things motorcycling) I haven't really touched on very recent Harley models, though it's worth noting that the factory intends to double production, which should lead to better availability of new models and have a knock-on effect on the firmness of used prices. This doesn't mean much to Harley fanatics, like myself, as we want our kicks right now and don't really care about tomorrow. And, finally, yes, there are people who ride Harleys and hate them with a vengeance and I would certainly advise readers to have a few test rides to make sure they are compatible with these most unique machines!
Harry J. Stevens
Many of these Knuckleheads, as they were quaintly known, are still intact and still being ridden in the States! Many of the later engine developments being retrofitted! This engine's the basic inspiration for all later designs, the way the bike has grown in engineering over the years all too apparent when inspecting the various models. Generally, whatever the die-hard fanatics might tell you, the bikes have become better over the years, much improved quality and reliability, whilst things like vibration absorption, general ride quality and handling are all in a brave new world.
Knuckleheads
As might be expected, Knuckleheads, which ran from 1936 to 1947, are expensive beasts in this time of classic mania - eight to ten grand for restored stuff. The Knucklehead sported 1000cc's of low compression vee-twin power controlled by a quaint hand gearchange mounted on the side of the petrol tank! For its day, it was a tasty bit of machinery only limited in sales by the depression era.
With its vintage look, solid rear end and girder forks, the Knucklehead has a natural stripped down, custom appearance that needs no additions - although most Harley owners like to customize their machines. Handling and braking are definitely deficient on modern roads but you can adapt to the bike's limitations. Mind, the mixture of around 40 horses, close to 600lbs and vintage suspension can be lethal on wet, bumpy roads if the rider doesn't know how to handle a proper motorcycle!
As the engine is basically an assemblage of simple components it's relatively easy to salvage and rebuild. This also means it's quite easy to bodge a mill together, get it running long enough to get it out of the street. Easy to blow a huge wedge - get the motor checked out by a proper Harley mechanic. Weak spots included the valves, stripped threads and knocking main bearings but a reasonably ridden and maintained bike should last 20-30,000 miles before the engine needs a rebuild - not that bad for a machine of this age and a reflection of its low revving, heavy torque nature. Bear in mind that modern materials improve the oil tightness and integrity of the valves - early models could be heavy old oil burners, as well as leaving large deposits of lubricant when parked up. An unfortunate feature that it shared with the even more vibratory British twins of the day.
Despite their age, the overwhelming aggressive nature of these ancient vee's, their sheer excessive character, can become kind of addictive. Technically, and on paper, later models are far superior, but out on the back roads a good Knucklehead (sounds kind of perverted...) can be a real delight. And their rareness means that they will keep on rising in value. Worth thinking about.
Panheads
The Panheads had a whole new top end, a much more complicated valve system that used oil to automatically maintain clearances (this was 1948!). Most Panheads were 1200 cc's in displacement, worth 50-60 horses depending on the model and state of tune. This kind of power in the vintage inspired chassis of the Knucklehead didn't sit very well and it took a mere year for proper telescopic forks to be fitted, although rear suspension didn't arrive until 1958! Novice Harley riders have a strong learning curve to master these bikes but they can be flung around with some elan once adapted to!
The basic Panhead engine and chassis, in later typical Harley manner, served as the basis for various models, the oddly named Hydra Glide being superseded by the Duo Glide when rear suspension was fitted. By the early fifties all models came with the benefit of foot gearchange. The final model year, of 1965, also saw the introduction of a bit more of modernity in the form of an electric start model, aptly named the Electra Glide, although, physically, it wasn't that different to the Duo Glide.
Due to the nature of the beast, there are lots of examples around with mixing and matching from various models. Along the way, Harley uprated the bottom end and tuned the top end (mid fifties) so you wouldn't want to put the latter on an earlier bottom end, would you? Some people have with entirely predictable results! A seriously nice and original or properly restored Panhead fetches as much as ten grand; a tired mixed and matched sample can go for under three grand, though the cost of sorting it out can be high. Most of the engine problems, nothing too major, were sorted along the way and should be part of historical lore rather than anything you might experience when buying one of these old bruisers. There are always exceptions!
My favourite out of these models, the Electra Glide. Not only because it got rid of the sometimes awkward starting (easy enough when you're eighteen but not when you're a crusty old bugger like me), but that the engine gave every impression of benefiting from its long gestation period. As sweet as a nut might be a gross exaggeration but as nice as the old style vee twins get. Plenty of torque, good reliability and a marvellously relaxed, laid back cruiser that will take American highways in their stride. You can find a really good one for 5000-6000 dollars in the States.
Sporsters
Some ignorant louts think the Sportster range as merely a smaller version of the big twins, whereas in reality it is a completely different engine. The most obvious disparity being the Sportster's unit construction whereas the bigger twins have separate engine and gearbox castings - god knows why and some where, some time, along the line the two engine types will merge into one!
The Sportster range owes its existence to the deluge of big British twins that threatened to overwhelm American roads back in the fifties, Harley needing a lighter, more sporting version of their 45 degree vee twin to compete.
They started off with the K series in 1952, whose sporting pretensions were undermined by its sidevalve cylinder head design, although they managed to get the mass down to 400lbs - a major achievement for Harley Davidson. The bike was conventional insofar as it had proper suspension and a foot gearchange but both the steering geometry and chassis strength were lacking compared to the better British twins of the day. Whereas the heavyweight Harleys managed more than 40 horses, the 750 vee twin didn't make more than 30hp and 85mph.
It didn't take long for Harley to uprate the engine to 883cc, allowing the bike to reach the ton - on a good day. Its sidevalve ancestry shown up in its lack of frugality - 35mpg when ridden at its limits. Lots of development went on along the way until a new model was introduced in 1957...in theory the later the model the better, but they are so old and have been so modded by past owners that the only thing that matters is how they run on the day of purchase.
The obvious upgrade to the K series was conversion to OHV's. Enter the XL series and Sportster designation. Retained were the K's chassis and, also, the pathetically short-lived 6V electrical system. Both weight and power increased, though the mix of 40 horses and 450lbs was a bit more intoxicating than earlier editions.
The basic XL model was soon joined by the XLH and XLCH, the latter using a high compression motor to churn out 54 horses against a rolling mass of nearly 500lbs despite sporting a minimally sized tank and svelte look. Fuel, on all models, had improved on the old sidevalve designs to around 50mpg.
Until 1972, when the engine was bored out to give a 1000cc's, the model was kept going with minor upgrades to electrics (12V, electric boot) and chassis (that included some GRP components!), with the result that it was becoming a bit long in the tooth. Though the basic unit had evolved into a reliable motor for everyday riding, only the most meticulous rebuild stopped it both leaking and consuming large quantities of oil. As well as the inbuilt temperamental clutch and electrics. The effect of legions of owners on reliability and usability make these bikes a difficult buy, reflected in prices for pre-seventies stuff ranging from 2000 to 6000 dollars. On the other hand, the ability to mix and match parts from the whole range of XL's does mean it's possible to build a remarkably effective road machine!
The 1000cc motor managed all of 60 horses without a noticeable increase in mass, though the vibes from the 45 degree vee-twin were much more pronounced than on other models, especially when experiencing the 120mph top speed. Brakes and handling weren't exactly up to such velocities; neither was the riding position which was oddly laid back for a machine with sporting pretensions.
Harley's only serious attempt at such a device came in 1977, with the XLCR, which was a mixture of flat track styling with a sensible riding position. It handled and braked better than other Sportsters but failed to sell to any extent.
Going back to its roots, Harley turned out a mild chopper version, the XLS Roadster whilst the XLH became more laid back with high bars and small tank. These bikes sold well! At this point AMF came on the scene, produced bikes with better frames and brakes - admittedly not that difficult. AMF Harleys, though better on paper than earlier models, are much derided by enthusiasts, so can be bargain buys at 2000 to 3000 bucks for stuff with loads of life left in it.
More notable were the budget priced XLX and the expensive, hot-rod XR. The former sold in large quantities - stripped down to basics it was the perfect purchase for those who liked to customize their own machine (which makes the used market interesting!), whilst the latter didn't inspire many despite its hot state of tune.
Perhaps the best buy out of these later Harleys is a 1984/5 XLH, which had wads of minor engine development work, modern(ish) suspension and brakes and a lovely line in style. Expect to pay 2000 to 3000 dollars in the States (and silly money in the UK) for a good example.
Shovelheads
By the mid sixties, the Sportsters were well established whilst the Panheads were beginning to show their age, more power needed. Enter the Shovelhead series, which had brand new top ends to help produce a bit more go. The weight, though, had increased further, over 650lbs on the FLH which made any theoretical gain in speed disappear completely. Things became even worse when panniers, top boxes, and other cruiser accessories were added. It needed a dedicated frame of mind to get the best out of the Harley but it would thunder along the open highway with the best of them, as long as there weren't any tight curves. The FLH Electra Glide came with the option of full touring rig right out of the factory, a hefty old beast at around 750lbs. Lots of early Shovelhead and late Panheads parts will swap.
Early seventies models had minor engine changes, the same excess weight with tighter pollution controls knocking the top speed down from over 100mph to under 90mph. Handling was limited by ground clearance and weaves as the top speed was approached. Braking was, at best, marginal. However, the police were equipped with not dissimilar bikes and had developed control techniques that allowed them to run cars off the road - something the braver road riders were able to emulate.
At this point, the Glide was a relaxed 70mph cruiser with an excess of style, limited by poor fuel economy (30-35mpg) and the unfortunate excess of mass, though it did have a stately feel once underway. By the late seventies it had a unique vintage feel! Harley's answer was the easy one, more cc's - 1340 in this case! No faster but more torque and also loads of vibration.
In 1980 the Tour Glide was introduced, sporting a new frame and an engine/swinging arm that were isolated from the rest of the chassis. The FLT weighed close to 800lbs but went where it was pointed, more or less, and didn't leave large furrows in the tarmac - a major improvement in big Harley riding! The FLT and FLH vied for supremacy in the Harley line up, with four and five speed gearboxes, belt and chain final drives and various styling options. These kept the range going until the Evolution engines turned up.
These are all big and heavy bikes, the FLT of note because of its relative lack of vibes and reasonable handling. Early Glides are more expensive than the rest, expect to pay anywhere from 3000 to 7000 dollars, depending on condition and originality. Around the 3500 dollar mark, a jolly nice Tour Glide with more than 30,000 miles on the clock offers the possibility of some serious big twin riding.
Super Glides
As might be expected, many people found the excesses of the FLH's and FLT's a bit too much, whilst the Sportsters weren't considered man enough (this is America, boy!). Enter the FX series. Super Glides used the Big Twin engine in 1200cc form but had a lack of excess and relatively svelte form that at first glance could pass for one of the better Sportsters - 550 to 600lbs depending on the model, with around 65 horses to play with.
This was at the beginning of the seventies but sales didn't really take off until an electric start and upgraded suspension were added in 1974. In the typical Harley way, this model (the FXE) was to form the basis of various variants over the coming years. These were more notable for their choice of model name rather than their engineering finesse - Fat Bob, Low Rider, Wide Glide. In fact, the early Super Glides ran better than these variants, though those into chopper styling will prefer the later bikes. Two to four thousand smackeroos will buy a rather nice early Super Glide.
It wasn't until the early 1980's that Harley did anything radical to the motor - belt drives fitted to both (the sometimes troublesome) primary and final drive. Enter the Sturgis, somewhat hindered by some heavy handed custom styling, over 600lbs of mass and a 65 inch wheelbase. It now sported the 1340cc engine, no more horsepower but wads of elephant-like torque. The bike would creak up to 110mph but was really best in the 40 to 80mph range. The belts helped engine smoothness and removed some maintenance chores. Once tested out on the Sturgis, they began to turn up in other models.
As with the Electra Glides, the engine was replaced by the Evo motor in 1984. With the Soft-tail model, added to the new motor was a rear end that looked like a rigid framed bike but had the shocks, in reality, hidden under the engine. Handling improvements were non-existent but the styling proved so popular that the Soft-tail back end gradually came to dominate the Super Glide range, with different variants trying to cater to different tastes.
The most notable was the 1988 Springer, which used updated forks inspired by early Harleys. Squint heavily, you might be back in the 1930's. This was followed by the Fat Boy and Heritage Nostalgia, both veering towards the full dress end of the market, albeit with some unique styling themes.
Of all these various models, I'd go for something around 1986 (when most of the minor engine problems were history), the much improved Evo engine was fitted and the styling had yet to go too heavy handed. Figure to pay 3000 to 6000 dollars, something heavily modded and thrashed being at the cheaper end of that range.
FXR Glides
The Super Glides started out as Big Twin Sportsters but ended up catering to the wannabe custom crowd, mostly down to the marketing success of various models. Not a company to give up on an idea easily, Harley introduced the FXR series in the early eighties. New frame, including partial insulation of the engine, stepped seat custom styling but a mere 600lbs of heavy metal with which to play. Notable for the sorted Shovelhead engine, better handling and the ability to blast through the ton (just!).
As usual, Harley used the basic chassis and engine to create various models - custom, touring, basic, etc. It wasn't until 1984 that the model went major league with the Evo engine and the FXRT and FXRS models. The former was the touring version but known as the Sport Glide whilst the latter was considered a mixture of sporting and custom Harley and known as the Low Rider. There was also a pig version, which turns up in the secondhand market in various guises. Later, the Low Rider gained custom forks and the Sport Glide heavier touring options.
It wasn't until the early nineties that the vibration insulation system was simplified and improved (the earlier bikes were known as Rubber Glides - or Rubber Cows by people who didn't appreciate Harley engineering). Again, various models were based on this package - Sturgis, Dyna Glide, Daytona, etc. The engine mounting system once tried out and perfected on this model was to become pervasive throughout the Harley range, which makes them both cute motorcycles and worthy of historical note! Currently available for reasonable sums these later models, both on their engineering and relative rareness, should go up in value over the coming years.
Evo Sportsters
1986 saw what are regarded as the modern Sportster range. Myriad engine improvements, lots of development and the final abandonment of iron cylinders for alloy, all added up to a more sophisticated and reliable motor that nonetheless lost none of its basic, raw nature (yes, there was some vibration). Offered as both an 883 and 1100cc model, the former was notable for its single seat, basic implementation and bargain basement price (much inflated by the time they got to the UK). Harley couldn't make enough of 'em to meet demand.
By European standards, it was a low powered, heavy vintage tractor of a motorcycle but it still had all the elements of Harley motorcycling - if it had crap brakes, rear suspension and lights it didn't really stop the lust. On paper, the fifty horses and 470lbs wasn't inspiring but the unique nature of the motor more than made up for that - at least on American highways where the speed limits were rigorously enforced. The 883 was dead on the beat at 50-60mph!
The 1100cc version was more interesting, performance-wise (in the loosest sense of the word), claiming 65 horses! The major difference between the engines was merely bore size. The bigger bore bike suffered from more vibration which almost limited any excesses in top speed (about 110mph on a good day). Both bikes have a good reputation for reliability and longevity, helped along by a lack of regular maintenance chores (single carb, automatic valve adjustment, etc).
Variations on the basic XL883 were offered, as well as the low saddle Hugger, but it wasn't until 1988 that anything major went down. The 1100cc model was bored out to 1200cc but it was really just more of the same stuff with an added bit of performance. Later, the four speed box became a (better, slicker) five speeder and belt drive was added to most models (and it's pretty damn good, too!). Having defined the basics so well, Harley have merely tinkered with them over the years.
Rough 883's go down to as little as 2000 dollars. Excellent 1200's can fetch five thousand bucks. In between those two extremes there are some remarkable bargains. Demand for new, basic 883's is still high as they offer the possibilities of doing a cheap custom job, getting unique wheels at a bargain price. The 883 can be upgraded to 1200 with new pistons and barrels (OE or performance stuff) and there are loads of tuning kit. It's quite easy to turn the 1200 into a 1340 beater!
Evo Glides
In 1984, the Electra Glides benefited from a major, though far from radical, engine redesign. Alloy cylinders the major upgrade, though the whole engine was worked over. To go with that, the new models had an isolated engine, as well as gearbox, and a new frame. Even if, at a quick glance, the new Tour and Electra Glides didn't look that different!
Better to go for next year's model, though, they had a five speed gearbox and much improved clutch/primary drive. There were variations on the same theme (big surprise, huh?) - Tour Glide, Tour Glide Ultra, Electra Glide Ultra, Ultra Classic, etc. These all added accessories and weight, a typical model tipping the scales at around the 800lb mark - a real man's bike if ever there was one.
The 1340cc motor was tuned for torque - you'd be lucky to get more than fifty horses out of one - and had the aerodynamics of a charging rhino. Weight, suspension and ground clearance limited any real attempts at sporting riding - but Harley had other models for that, anyway - the Electra Glides best on the Freeway, trundling along at 60mph with a monster bite of torque in hand to deal with anyone who was silly enough to get in the way.
These are all great bikes, in their excessive, over the top ways, and you won't find much under the 5000 dollar mark. Twice that, and more, needed for a relatively recent example. On the good side, it's almost impossible to thrash and abuse them. On the bad side, their sheer, excessive mass does mean they are easy to drop, but crash damage should be evident on even the most cursory of examinations - and they are just as likely to break the rider's leg as any of their own metalwork.
The best buys are the most recent ones, as Harley made, and continue to make, minor improvements. Having said that, owners also like to add better equipment and they do tend to lavish lots of love on these bikes, so one of the early Evo Glides, with lots of better-than-new accessories shouldn't be passed over.
In the States they do actually suffer from mild depreciation, unlike the UK where relative rareness means newish machines often sell at a premium! In the US there's not that many that have really been ridden to ruin, most are cherished and loved, polished up with pride. Given their excessive mass, the price differences between the UK and the USA probably doesn't warrant paying the extravagant shipping charges!
End Note
Given the state of most UMG's readers finances (mitigated, one guesses, by their overwhelming fanaticism for all things motorcycling) I haven't really touched on very recent Harley models, though it's worth noting that the factory intends to double production, which should lead to better availability of new models and have a knock-on effect on the firmness of used prices. This doesn't mean much to Harley fanatics, like myself, as we want our kicks right now and don't really care about tomorrow. And, finally, yes, there are people who ride Harleys and hate them with a vengeance and I would certainly advise readers to have a few test rides to make sure they are compatible with these most unique machines!
Harry J. Stevens
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