Honda CB125J: Old Jewel

Flashback to a misspent youth. 1976 the year, just seventeen years old and a one-owner Honda CB125J that had just broken through 10,000 miles. My first bike. And a very pleasant experience it was. For the most part, a sprained wrist and gravel rash knee, all part of the learning experience. In terms of numbers - 65mph, 100mpg - the CB wasn't that impressive, the OHC thumper mill always a little vibratory and never really settling down to a relaxed thrum. Probably just my twitchy right wrist.

Forward to 1997. Wandering around the local dealers, what do I spy but a CB125J. As tatty as could be but I couldn't hide the big grin. As I'd turned up on a CBR600 the dealer looked at me as if I'd gone completely insanely but quickly recovered, telling me they were a classic in the making and with a little bit of work I'd also have a useful runabout. It was only after I signed the cheque that I came to my senses (400 notes poorer!).

The bike at least ran - after riding the CBR home and fixing a lift back I had my first ride. Culture shock time! It felt tiny, more like a bicycle than a motorcycle, and the only thing that seemed to happen when I opened the throttle was an increase in noise. After rather intense examination of the speedo I worked out that speed was, indeed, being gained! The mileometer clicked on to 50,000 miles halfway from home.

If it took a while to wind itself up to a half decent velocity, stopping was even more lackadaisical! A drum at each end had seemed like the height of advanced technology when I bought the bike in '76 but now I couldn't believe how appalling they were. My braking distances, trained by a diet of replicas, were hopelessly out of step with the Honda's abilities. Several near misses and a couple of enraged cagers later, I learnt my lesson!

Everything about the bike was basic in the extreme, almost vintage. The lights and horn were definitely in the latter category. The gearbox was more false neutrals than forward gears, but I did recall that the first bike had been like that and all it took was a bit of practice to perfect the change. Hustling through the charming town of Luton, near the end of my trip, it suddenly all came together and I charged through minor gaps at a speed and ferocity that would've smashed the CBR's plastic to bits. One advantage of buying an old hack is that you've got nothing to lose if you hit something!

Swapping machines was a bit traumatising, as often as not I'd give the CBR's front brake a muscular, desperate squeeze, only to met with a howling tyre, skidding front end and near heart attack. I started using the Honda for the 20 mile (round trip) daily commute and because the rush-hour was so desperate it was actually quicker, sneaking through tiny gaps and often taking chunks out of the pavement. It was more a matter of massive effort on the bars than using the brakes whenever I wanted to stop in a hurry, easier and far safer to throw the bike around things than to try to brake.

Of course, when a car slammed sideways into my path there was nowhere to go but into the side of it. The ancient forks, already weary from too many miles, snapped right off - but only after the front wheel was buckled out of shape. The cage, some expensive BMW, had a series of large dents in it, the owner ranting and raving away about Hell's Angels. I told him that flattery wouldn't get him off the hook and all but destroying a valuable classic was going to cost him dear. However, motorcycle insurance being what it is I decided not to claim and fixed the front end up with even older Triumph 250 Trophy forks and TLS brake.

This made a remarkable improvement to stopping distances, the Triumph's drum still not up to modern standards but designed for a bike 100lbs heavier and 25mph faster. The Honda would now stop on a dime from sub 50mph speeds, which was all I needed in town. The commute became yet faster and, curiously, even more economical at 120mpg against 100mpg with the old front end. Why? Could only be because I was running the engine in a more efficient rev range.

As winter drew closer I was thankful to have an old if dependable hack to spare the CBR from the chores - all the money I saved by using the CB went on some flash carbon fibre bodywork and a noisy 4-1 exhaust for the big Honda. A truly splendid looking and running device emerged but one that was actually more of a pain during the commuting chores. Go figure.

The little Honda had at its heart a tough single cylinder motor that originally emerged in the mid-sixties as a 150cc unit. Manual camchain adjustment, an old-fashioned set of points and a sporadic need for a new spark plug, along with 500 mile oil changes, were its main needs. There were also a couple of valves, with easy to adjust tappets, but they had so thoroughly worn in their mating surfaces that they didn't need much attention. I went over the bike carefully every time I did a 500 mile oil change and it repaid these efforts with splendid reliability.

Until the heavy rains came when the mill kept cutting out. This was down to the ancient HT lead losing most of its insulation and a dodgy coil, cheaply replaced via the breakers. The one thing that stopped me riding was the need to use the lights at night - they just weren't up to modern standards. Not so much that I couldn't see where I was going but that the cagers acted like I was invisible. The marginal electrics would've gone up in flames if I'd tried a more powerful lamp.
Nevertheless, given its age and mileage, a remarkable bit of engineering that, believe it or not, I really enjoy riding.

Charlie Slade