Honda CX500 Custom

Nice bike. Relatively powerful (especially for a 500), and good torque, but really buzzy beyond 55mph. Swapping the clutch basket and crank gear from a grenaded CX650 engine dropped the revs substantially in every gear. Now 70mph feels like 55 used to, and she'll still do the ton with ease. The only problems I had with this bike was the dreaded water pump seal, but I replaced it with a similar Yamaha seal for half the cost of the Honda part, and no leaks so far after 8000 miles.

Eventually, I got tired of the dated looks, nasty paint, and corroded aluminium, so I turned the bike into a chopper! It's probably one of the few CX500 choppers in existence. I still use this bike as my daily ride, and it gets a lot of looks at the local watering hole. With the extended front forks I went to longer spacers to stiffen the stock springs, and then put some 15wt fork oil in there. At the same time I installed eleven inch aftermarket shocks.

Even with the rake and the long forks, the bike handles better now than it ever did before. No more fork- bottoming, and no more pogo-stick fun down the road or wallowing out of corners. Though switching from the two-pot '82 brake caliper to the earlier '78 single-pot caliper, along with that narrow wheel and tire, seriously degraded braking capacity.

Originally I didn't like the CX, but she's grown on me a lot, especially since changing the gearing and switching to Z-bars instead of those horribly uncomfortable apes that came stock. I don't think I'll ever sell her now.

Charles S

Yamaha XS650 Special

I paid just $600 for this bike, and I ended up despising that decision. I hated this one. The electric foot never worked, and it vibrated and rattled so much at idle that it would slowly walk itself BACKWARDS while on the centrestand -- even if backwards happened to be UPHILL. I was into the carbs seven or eight times since I owned the bike. It would rattle jets out of their holders, destroy the solder on the metal floats (which would then sink and flood the engine), the idle was all over the place, the points wouldn't stay adjusted past the end of the block, the advance mechanism stuck at fully advanced sometimes…

The swinging-arm was a hinge (I replaced the plastic bushings with roller bearings and this helped, but not as much as I'd hoped). The front brakes worked badly at best, and there was a horrible wobble at about 80mph. And it ate headlights too. But the bike looked really nice, and when something wasn't breaking it ran really good. Still, I was never happier in my life than the day some poor fool paid $900 to take it off my hands. He was looking to make it into a cafe racer, and more power to him.

Charles S

Honda VF500C (V30 Magna)

This was my first bike. I bought it in milk crates and cardboard boxes for $350. It was in beautiful condition, but the engine had broken a wrist pin, bent a rod, and scored a cylinder wall. The dealership that I took the bike to stripped the engine down completely, and then gave some ridiculous price to bore all the cylinders, fit new pistons, new rings, balance the crank, etc.

After a long and ardurous search for a replacement engine, I gave up and decided to fix the one I had. I honed the cylinder (the score in the wall wasn't that bad), replaced one piston, rod, and wrist pin, reused the old rings, bought a mail-order gasket set, and a Honda shop manual, and put the engine back together. (My first foray into engine repair of any kind).

It all went together with the help of my old man (a mechanical genius), and it fired right up. It smoked a little bit on start up, but that disappeared once the bike warmed up. It used half a quart of oil every 1500 to 2000 miles. Completely acceptable to me.

I ran the PISS out of it. I wrung it's neck every chance I got, did wheelies, and generally had a blast. The 500 Magna has the same engine as the VF500F Interceptor - I had a great time. Top speed was about 120. With no fairing and my fat ass on the bike, that's as fast as it would go. So I added 3 teeth to the rear sproket. This gave me roughly the same top speed, but the bike was an absolute RIOT to ride. I could wheelie 1st and 2nd with ease, and the bike would accelerate like nobody's business.

It took all this abuse without complaint for the 2 or 3 years I owned her. Alas, I had to sell it to help fund a one year long study-abroad trip to Japan, but I liked the bike so much I bought an 1100 Magna when I got back! 

Charles S

Honda VF1100C (V65 Magna)

The great and powerful Honda V4. My first bike was the 500cc Magna, and I loved it so much I bought the 1100 as soon as I could afford it. I paid $2000 for a nice example with 14,000 miles on the clock, and in three years I now have 55,700 miles indicated. The bike has been completely reliable so long as I'd owned it. Always tons of power, and never any problems that weren't my own stupid fault.

At 38,000 miles I buggered 2nd gear by shifting without the clutch, drag racing, and popping wheelies. (Yes, a 580lb cruiser can do wheelies if you give it 116hp!). I was going to get the tranny undercut, but by happenstance I found a used 15000 mile engine from a guy that crashed his bike, for only $300. I traveled 500 miles (each way) to get it and bring it home.

When I dropped my old engine out, I noticed that the cams looked pretty chewed up. The new engine had perfect cams, and I wanted to keep them that way. The reason the early V4 cams grenade is because of an inadequate oil supply to the heads. So I installed an Oil Mod Kit. This kit is availible from Dave Dodge (info@drp 123.com), eBay, or at www.v4Honda.com. Basically it takes oil from the main galley (drill and tap mod), or from an adapter bolted between the block and the oil filter (adapter-style mod) and feeds high-pressure oil to the cylinder heads.

The stock lines are small, and the stock feed to the cams is off a low-pressure feed that goes through the tranny first. As the oil pump in these V4's actually has two outputs (one for the mains, one for the tranny and cams), plugging the cam side actually INCREASES pressure slightly throughout the engine. I've got 55,700 miles on the bike now (about 31,000 on the current engine) and my cams are still perfect.

At 40k my collector was rotted, so I replaced it with one from eBay. At 50k my mufflers were shot, so I put on Mac slip-ons. I'm still using the stock suspension at 55k, and the handling has gotten really bad in the last 10k or so. I'll be installing Progressive springs and shocks soon. I'm still on the original fork seals and steering head bearings, though. I run Dunlop D205 radials (they handle so much better than bias-ply), and the rear's done in about 6000 miles. The front lasts about 9 or 10k, though.

I've taken this bike on several cross-country trips (well, half the country anyway - it's a BIG country!), and I wouldn't hesitate to leave on one tomorrow. This is the most reliable bike I've ever owned.

Charles S

How it all began

Here's a special treat for you - Issue 1 from 1986 in it's entirety. 

Enjoy :)

Suzuki SV650

Easy, thought I. Some youth with a pussy-face goatee beard selling a 3200 mile, eight month old SV. A bit newer than I would've ideally gone for but he only wanted 3000 notes. Test ride on the back, a bit of vibes through the pillion pegs but stately enough handling and fair flew down the road. Test ride at the controls with the youth on the back, no vibes for the rider and a lovely gurgle when I slammed her through seven thousand revs in third. Hmmm, probably just broke half a dozen laws if not the land speed record. He would not budge on the price even with the promise of hard cash and a done deal right there and then. Typical of the youth of today. With a bit of muttering I handed over the dosh and headed home, across the chaos that Central London represents.

Modernity ruled its power delivery, fuel injectors taming most of a typical vee-twin's waywardness, just a hint of truculence left in the final drive which churned away at low revs in the taller half of the six speed gearbox. If you were used to a modern four cylinder machine it might warrant an initial concern but the kind of minor nastiness that fades into the background after a couple of weeks. Riding skills adjusting to suit the machine.

Though weighing well under 400lbs, the SV was a touch too long to really hustle with step-thru brevity in Central London, more inclined to aviate its front wheel and run over the tops of the cars than fiddle its way through minor gaps, especially when those spaces varied with the dynamics of a bored and frustrated car driver populace. Any inherent narrowness of the vee-twin layout somewhat inhibitted by the width of the bars and positioning of the sometimes marginal mirrors. Having said that, there was nothing about the machine that required much thought, sling a leg over it for the first time and go without any frightening retribution in store.

The disc brakes had plenty of feedback but the first emergency stop – some lovely old dame in a big black Jag on a power trip – required a fistful of digits and an adrenalin inspired grip to really burn the front wheel down to the rubber. Calipers shrieked and the tyre squealed, which at least woke up the old dear at the controls of the bounding auto. Hmmm, about an half inch difference between survival and annihilation.

Further experimentation with the brakes revealed a very mild tendency to sit up and beg in corners when leaving the retardation to the last possible moment, which at least showed the bike had a bit of Suzuki history embedded in its carcase – GS550 four anyone, circa 1980? As one infamous slob likes to impart, been there and done that.

Heavy riding, the SV was much happier with the power full on in the lower gears and the rider hanging off it in a most unmanly manner; snap and thrust on the brakes and throttle all par for the course with nary a twitch of complaint from the suspension even when the road surface represented the deep and dangerous art of council neglect.

Partly, such highway carnage encouraged by a lack of comfort from the saddle – any more than fifty miles had me squirming all over the place whilst the pillion perch was more likely to have the lady of your life cursing and swearing than demanding sex. Suzuki still have an awful lot to learn from Harley in the art of seduction and the design of a vee-twin motorcycle. Arguably, solving such lack of comfort is only a trip away to the nearest accessory store but I also had some problems with the ergonomics of the wide bars that didn't really suit the nature of the beast that would doubtless have benefitted from a set of BMW bars, circa 1965!

For the dosh, the chassis and engine represent the highly advanced art of Japanese production engineering – you can just see the Italians scratching their heads in alarm at just how so much damn good design could be packaged into such a cheap motorcycle. Here's the usual kicker, though, after a couple of months and about 3000 miles (of tireless and trouble-free running) I was convinced that the bike was a touch bland – even with the ability to put an easy 120mph on the clock (nice workout for the upper body, too!), the sheer fluidity of its power delivery left me almost asleep at the controls. Gone was the cantankerous nature of a typical vee-twin and Suzuki managed the amazing feat of making the bike seem more like a four than a vee in its characteristics; those who have done the rounds will recall that they did the same trick with their two-stroke triples back in the seventies, making them seem more like four-strokes than the ever so hot strokers dealt by the likes of Kawasaki.

Running costs were on the high side, which didn't endear the bike to me. OE tyres lasted about 4500 miles, fuel averaged no better than 45mpg with a downside as low as 35mpg and the chain was beginning to rattle and complain. Heavy oil consumption also a bit surprising though I never did get around to changing it! Nor did the mill receive any kind of maintenance.

I sold the bike for a couple of hundred notes more than I paid for it, cancelling out the consumable costs, so I should not be complaining. A great bike but one that really didn't make much of a connection with my soul, for some reason, unlike the nice TDM900 replacement which was an instant bedfellow in highway hooliganism.

Give the SV a decent seat and set of bars, it is one of those bikes that will do absolutely everything very, very well and for the price you can't really complain. But if you delved into old Brit twins, ran the odd Ducati and salivated at the controls of some the hyper Jap tackle it lacks a bit of an edge – not just in terms of power but character as well – that is difficult to explain unless you've been there and done that!

Rod W.

Kawasaki ZX-6R: Running wild

How to almost kill yourself in one easy lesson. Leap aboard a newish ZX-6R, whack the throttle open in third gear and see how rapidly the far distant traffic becomes an accident about to happen. Over a hundred horses at the rear wheel, from the 636cc watercooled four cylinder mill; not much more than 400lbs with a full tank of gas. Added up to a scorched rear tyre, a fast reeling brain and a couple of cages about to cut short my youthful life...

But is wasn't the searing acceleration to 16000 revs that almost did for me. Nope it was the hyper-tech front brakes, a radically mounted set of four-pad calipers – like hitting the proverbial brick wall. AND they gave sod all feedback, especially when grabbed in anger and desperation. A series of helmet destroying cartwheels but narrowly avoided by rapidly squeezing the lever on and off, the front wheel locking and screaming with each caress of the lever! The back disc wasn't much better, the rear wheel sliding off on a whim of its own.

The brakes were ideal for cutting and thrusting down the highway at 150mph, using the seemingly backward floating cars as an interesting slalom course, the ability to lose 50mph in a way that confounded the laws of physics rather useful. Also the kind of velocity at which the riding position began to make some kind of sense; otherwise a painful reminder of the ways of mice and men. The ZX's supposed to be one of the more comfy 600's but to me it's rather like sitting on an ice-pick when cruising at legal speeds.

The Kawasaki's engine an incredible mix of useful, almost tractable, low and mid range urge, combined with the snappy nature of hungry piranhas when the throttle's rolled open with a disregard for personal safety and the laws of the land. The bike could shred licences in first gear, let alone sixth, with a seamless lunacy bred by the the fuel injection system. The rev-limiter was a useful aid to engine longevity as I was damned if I could actually read the electronic tach – not merely down to my speed-melted brain!

Now it's unlikely in the extreme that my brain would ever reach a speed sated state on a mad little dust-cropper such as this, but if senility ever threatened to encroach the somewhat contrary chassis would concentrate the mind wonderfully. Smooth roads were not much of a problem unless so much power was used that the bike threatened to go sideways whilst hurtling out of corners, then you might get a bit of head shaking. Nothing that developed into a terminal wobble, mind. You'd have to be drunk and insane to highside the Kawa.

Nope, what the ZX disliked, curvy, bumpy roads. Messed the chassis up a bit, with a harsh, dislocated feel to the beast if I blithely ignored the warning rattles and shakes and insisted on using the throttle in anger. I am a bit heavier than average but messing around with the suspension settings didn't seem to make much of a difference. Whether it was the damping or the geometry I was unable to discern – more the rear shock than the upside-down front forks - but the ultimate trip was to ignore the bike's evocation of imminent destruction and just boogie on through the curves at hyper speeds. It would pull out or through the wickedness and, in its way, gave a certain reward to hard edged use.

Getting the better of the beast was a weird, if potentially dangerous, high that had elements of addiction written deep in its character. Put it this way, the daily commute was often extended to such an extent that I either didn't want to turn up for work or had to use the excellent lights to see my way home late at night!

And I wasn't a bit tired even with some secondary vibes buzzing the pegs when the motor sung its high rev song – and a lovely wail it has flat out – and the plank-like seat doing in my backside. My mind warped by the sheer speed of the ride, playing back rushing tarmac and blurred scenery – it was something like an adrenalin overdrive compounded by drinking a gallon of Peruvian coffee and having the best sex ever. HIGH!

The price paid for such addition – 30-35mpg, rubber that went unruly in a thousand miles or so and oil needed changing every 1000 miles to keep the gearchange up to the snappy, revvy nature of the engine. The chain, though, remarkably, needed little attention. Insurance was ridiculous and there were any number of sensible, small auto's that would've made a much more logical choice for the commuting chores.

But if work's boring, the women in your life asinine and life is passing you by, then something like the Kawasaki is just what the doctor ordered. Despite some shortcomings I can't keep off the bloody thing!

David Clements

Triumph Speed Four

Bright yellow she was, weirdly elongated with funky side-pods at the front but nothing that disturbed when bent over the clip-ons. Four cylinders shuffled into life with a slight clunking from the starter on the 1800 mile old watercooled mill. Just about run in, if new bikes actually need running in. Being on the tall and thin side, the Triumph fitted me quite well, with more comfort from the seat than expected but a bit too much mass on my wrists for proper rest and relaxation in town. The engine surged a bit just off throttle when trolled along in top gear but otherwise gave every impression of being as civilized as the Japanese offerings

Triumph's twist on the naked bike game, to keep the minimal mass and most of the excessive grunt of their Daytona 600 four, none of the detuning for sensible folk found on other naked offerings. Not being a fan of plastic replicas this ethos was much to my taste and there seemed plenty of recent bikes for sale at 20-35 percent off the new price in private deals. Mere months old and low miles, I expected these bikes to be perfect but a couple were rather rattly and a touch rough looking that brought to mind race-track misuse. Anyway, on the fourth attempt found a perfect bike with a fifty-ish owner who had not been impressed with the antics of cagers whilst trying to ride his pride and joy. The bike came with new Avons and looked like it had never seen wet weather.

That lasted about forty minutes – typical, just my luck to be riding into fast darkening clouds on my first outing. Now, you either like the revvy, silky nature of across the frame fours or you don't. I personally think that Japanese fours are absolutely marvellous pieces of engineering and have absolute faith in their abilities; ditto for the Triumph which is much more Japanese than Euro in its power delivery and composure. It has to be said, though, that many 100 horsepower fours are a pain to ride in wet weather, some I could name from the previous couple of decades downright dangerous.

So it was with a touch of trepidation that I fed the Triumph along slippery country roads whilst cursing the lack of a fairing, notwithstanding my previous declaration that I hated plastic replicas! As far as I know – but you can never really tell these days of nefarious multinational companies – Avons are still made in Britain, designed for and ridden on our roads. As is the Speed 4, of course. I was not that surprised but nevertheless pleasantly encouraged by the nice amount of feedback from the road and good stability of what could easily, given its sub-400lbs mass, have been a very flighty steed... of course, as with any lightweight and powerful motorcycle it would be just a matter of serious throttle abuse to highside the beast into the nearest hedge.

Upright, on a decent bit of road, I hammered the throttle up from 90mph in top gear – the Speed 4 shot forwards at an arm-jerking, eyeball popping rate without any intransigence from the rear rubber. I didn't have time to clock if we'd broken the 150mph barrier as a fast approaching bend required a dead throttle and some brake. Those front twin discs are hot stuff but I somehow managed to avoid skidding the front tyre off the wet road whilst the bike maintained its composure as we scampered through a series of 60mph bends at, er, 80mph! I can happily report that the Triumph will hold its stance on the edge of its rubber on slippery country roads.

It's moments like this that a particular machine gets into the soul. It was only when back at base, an hour later, that I returned to earth sufficiently to realise that my leather jacket had started letting water in – I was soaked through but had been so into the ride that I hadn't even noticed. One thing that should be noted, the front mudguard is bloody useless and the whole bike ends up immersed in a layer of grit and mud! Can't believe the factory testers let that one get past them – they did test the bike in the UK, not the South of France, right?

A couple of weeks went by with plenty of joy, all the more so as rider and machine became used to each other's ways. I don't like to throw myself all over a machine when cornering and the Triumph seemed fine with this tucked-in riding styling, very secure feeling with the only problems coming from my repeated entries into corners with too much speed on the dial – ultimately, it did not like late, hard braking when hurtled over, but then few machines do!

All was well with the world when the third to second gearchange started getting a bit elusive and the box was a touch clunky when engaged at idle. All sorts of mechanical mayhem ran through my somewhat paranoid mind – the bike was still under guarantee so I rode to the nearest Triumph dealer who reckoned it just needed an oil change, probably not used hard enough by the past owner. Some improbable sum was quoted for doing the deed so I ambled off to the nearest Halfords and did the oil change myself – it would come to something if the powers that be prohibited minor chores like that. Murky oil fell out of the engine all over my garage... serves me right for being a skinflint!

A gentle bit of warming up and a quick trash around the block had me revelling in a silky smooth gearchange. Winter weather combined with mild use by the past owner had evidently cooked the lubricant. Felt high for the rest of the day at solving a potentially serious problem – false neutrals on fast moving motorcycles are simply not acceptable as the sudden lack of power on the back tyre can have you all over the shop on wet roads.

Fuel consumption wasn't improved by the cleaner lube, somewhere in the 35mpg region. The few times I was forced to ride in a mature and conservative manner – like when a police car followed me for thirty miles on the M1 – fuel still came in at the same rate. Not the end of the world but if you revel in riding bikes like the Speed 4 then it can add up to serious expense! The other heavy consumable, the tyres.

Top speed an indicated 145mph, fortunately not confirmed by any nice men with radar guns. The ability to break the speed limit without even thinking about it – the bike is purring along like a restrained panther at 90mph – makes the Triumph quite difficult to ride, I always seem to be hurtling along at a good 20mph faster than I thought – although it's a naked beast I found myself nicely angled into the resulting windstream and could hold ton plus speeds without much effort!

Comfort, for me at least, was good for about ninety miles before my wrists and lower spine began to complain, which I took as a signal to top up the fuel and have a stagger around the forecourt. There was often some old chap in a cage who spying the Triumph logo insisted that he had one just like it in his youth – I am not a fan of old Bonnies, and the like, and was often tempted to ruin their day by saying that if they were this good then the company would never have gone bust!

I did a few 400-500 mile trips on the bike and was still able to walk afterwards, although my throttle hand was a bit wrecked for some reason. Not exactly filled with midrange grunt, the bike could nevertheless be ridden along in top at 70mph upwards without any need to play silly buggers on the gearbox – important on long trips when it is necessary to get a bit of Zen and relaxation into things.

The only reason I let the Speed 4 out of my life is that one Triumph dealer gave me a crazy trade-in deal on a new Speed 3, which is an entirely different tale... later!

Mike Williams

My weird life with a Honda CD175

On UK roads, thanks to our rotten winters and thirty-odd years of abuse, Honda CD175's are becoming very rare. A whole generation of bikers who really have no idea what one is... to clear that up, it's a little vertical twin of the simplest, single carb, OHC construction. Its main demand, 500 mile oil changes to stop the gearchange becoming completely impossible; at best it's a very useful anti-theft device, helped along by cold engine clutch drag that will stall the motor if the front brake isn't held on when first gear is engaged.

I have often been tempted to bung some BSA decals on the side-panels, try to pass the bike off as a classic Brit. Doubtless, BSA zealots would respond in rage with a large sledgehammer and my pride and joy would soon be a mess of metal. Where these big Brit twins are limited to around 75mph by their inherent teeth shaking vibration, the little CD sports a similar top speed, though a strong gust of wind or steep incline will reduce that to a rather dangerous 70mph. Big gaps in the gear ratios in the loose four speed box don't help matters any.

In theory my bike is a 1973 model... however, during its long and arduous life – mileage unknown as speedo's are not long-lived and far from essential in this kind of biking – it has been fitted with a few different engines and a collection of cycle parts. Much to my wife's annoyance, in the garage there is an array of about twenty CD's in various states of disrepair, mostly dismantled. It just sort of happened like that – I'd be riding around minding my own business or parked up somewhere when some guy would start making furtive gestures at me; the next thing I know I had arranged to collect some non-running CD175. There are maybe hundreds, perhaps thousands, of defunct CD's stashed in people's garages and gardens.

I can't bring myself to throw anything away as I am sure as soon as I do I will need it! I don't think I have ever bought a set of tyres for it. Chains invariably short-lived but replaced in a similar manner. With fuel around 60-80mpg, this all works out as extremely cheap biking. Oil changes take about ten minutes (beware of rounded sump bolts...) and doing the valves/points about half an hour (every two weeks). The only thing the engine does demand is a new set of plugs every three months, or so – can be ignored but starting progressively becomes more difficult, rather than the one to three kick affair with the motor in reasonable shape. I have managed to break two kickstart springs, a bungee cord works as a temporary replacement.

Camchains are a bit notorious on this make but I find leaving them alone for around 5000 miles isn't a problem – and then a quick tweak on the bolt (prone to thread stripping). I bought half a dozen new camchains from a dealer who was closing down and tend to fit one every 20,000 miles, though I have done twice that without any problems. Camchain breakages write off the top end, possibly a false economy.

Disintegrating silencers can lead to rather large gaps in an already loose powerband and gunshots on the over-run, they are patchable until they actually fall off! It may be the relatively quick demise of the exhaust system, and notoriously miserly nature of CD owners, that leads to burnt out or sticking exhaust valves, or just plain old throttle abuse – on major highways the CD needs to be ridden flat out to stay out of the way of traffic.

The first sign of this will be smoke out of the exhaust on the over-run, not to be confused with smoke out of the breather pipe which is usually piston rings on the way out (shouldn't happen until 40k). Caught early on, a cylinder head dismantle, cleaning up and lapping in of the valves may well suffice. There are plenty of signs of top end problems and no way it should catch you by surprise.

Unless oil changes are really neglected, things like crank bearings should out-last the rest of the bike – the crankshaft a hefty four bearing design that makes the average two bearing British twin crank look ridiculous. Vibration only a problem when the bike is held flat out... even then it's a relatively minor buzz that does no damage to the machine, more the little bike telling you to back off a touch than a sign that it is about to blow up.

If the silencers are in decent shape and performance is more constipated than expected – 17 horses so don't get too excited – may well be an air-filter clogged up with road dust. They usually end up with a couple of holes added, often slashed by screwdriver wielding merchants – replacement with a newish airfilter mesh can transform the nature of the beast.

Another possible area of concern, the clutch pushrod's oil seal can be ruined by its proximity to the final drive chain (or the whole caboodle ruined by a snapped chain), leading to rapid loss of oil. You may want to take the cover off to check its condition – decent owners replace all the cross-head screws with allen-bolts, as the former tend to corrode into the cases (one can imagine a paranoid Mr Honda, after experiencing Brit bikes, designing them that way to stop them falling off).

Overall, ease of starting and relative usability of the gearbox will give a good indication of the actual state of the engine. New spares are now difficult to obtain but there are plenty of dead bikes hidden away as a source of free or cheap spares. Rather like the British bike scene thirty years ago. In another thirty years I may well have the last running CD175!

At this kind of age some deep-seated wear can attack the chassis, things like the wheel hubs and forks can end up in a rather dangerous state... it has to be said that the SLS drums, even when brand new, were not up to much and even slight wear/neglect can leave them in a dangerous state. The same can be said for the suspension, basically a set of pogo-sticks at each end that can make the bike feel like it is falling apart on rough roads.

This is one area where my stash of spares is virtually useless! But a modified set of Girlings meant for a CB350K3 and a complete front end off a BSA A50 have totally transformed the dynamics and feel of the CD175. I can't understate the effect these mods have had on my riding enjoyment of the beast! The frame itself is a reasonable trellis, although a decent set of swinging arm bushes needed rather than the stock rubbish.

Light in weight and nimble by nature, the suspension upgrade really lets the bike shine, the only limitations found on wet roads when the on/off nature of the stock rear drum can leave the tyre squealing and sliding – but it is something I soon became used to and quite amusing to make ped's jump out of their skin when leaving the braking to the last moment on crossings! I overdid it a couple of times, ended up sideways to them! At least the huge mudguards give adequate protection during typical British winter weather.

The CD, even when abused through the gearbox, isn't a fast accelerating machine, having trouble getting away from some of the sportier cars and being put in its place by MZ250's and the like! Once wound up to 40mph it does spring forward to about 65mph when it's then a real effort to extract maximum velocity. Its most natural pace, around the 60mph mark which makes for some fear on the open highway when cagers tend to run over rather than around the little twin!

Another frightening element of the machine, its 6V electrics make for a front headlamp right out of doomsville, more a matter of sitting on the tail of a car on country roads than actually using the light to see where you're going. Worse yet, the battery is invariably short-lived and needed to start the machine from cold even though the CB175's electric start was deleted. So bad was this element of the machine, I paid for an alternator upgrade plus new regulator/rectifier and, of course, 12V bulbs. I now have the choice of running a powerful front light and suffering a battery that goes dead in fifty miles (the light using more power than the alternator can produce) or squinting with a barely adequate halogen unit. Oh well, can't have everything, can ya?

Commuting, the machine fits well into the pace of city traffic with excellent comfort and very low running costs. I do about a 120 miles a week with nary a problem although the bike gets a good fettling twice a month. Odd things begin to happen at this age, like the fuel line falling off due to brittle plastic or the seat's bracket breaking off due to rust; an eye needs to be kept out for potential problems.

If it can corrode it will, and I ended up with polished engine cases and stainless steels silencers, amongst over niceties. Take a bit of pride, apply some tender loving care, get a stash of spares, and this is the kind of bike which will keep on running and running!

Gerry E.

Harley Davidson Road King

A 2002 Road King the bike of my dreams. Perhaps an indication of the fantasy world in which I live. Big hairy Harley rigs always the distillation of motorcycling. The ethereal pull of a long stroke big forty-five degree vee-twin's never going to be submerged by corporate profit. That Harley myth still running strong.

Harleys not designed for wimps. Have weight, heft to them, with a proper set of high-risers for handlebars – something you can get some muscle into, though it took a little time until I was used to their relatively low and canted forward nature. Other Harleys have higher pull-backs but the Road King's designed primarily as a tourer. Depending on how you ride, it is relatively easy to fit higher bars, even an option when ordering a new Road King. Despite initial reservations, the riding position does make good sense when trundling through the American countryside at 70-80mph.

The motor rumbles and complains a touch in town but HD riders' take this as a sign of character rather than as an indication of poor design. Enough rumbling's let through to emphasize the basic manliness of the design. Ladies on the pillion still end up hot and bothered! Comfy seat and good riding position, means the rider is still up for it. Unlike the clowns on pile-inducing replicas who grow old, asexual, before their time. And those Ducati 999 riders... Overall, vibration levels are not a problem, the bike particularly smooth at highway speeds.

The Road King's a real grunt baby, doesn't matter which gear you're in. We're talking 88 cubic inches here, with all the torque concentrated at the lower end of the rev range. These are real American horses, none of this foreign nonsense. The bike feels so solid I reckon I could ride it through brick walls and plateglass windows and it wouldn't even twitch or slow for a moment.

I found that the EFI unit, which replaced the single carb, made starting and riding off much easier that days of old (I can even recall Harleys so intransigent that they would drain the battery before starting on cold mornings), though it is still important to let the engine warm up at minimal revs to get proper circulation of the oil, especially to the neat self-adjusting valves.

However, I have heard reports that if the unit fails you are in deep shit – it's designed so that if one part of the system goes down it will still work well enough to get you home but some owner's experiences don't concur with this, being stranded with dead units. On the basic Road King, a carb was an option and some turn up in the used market. Aftermarket items also available, but in my own case the EFI has been an impressive addition to the Harley experience, making life easier and never giving a moment's trouble. Fuel around 55mpg, which hinted at its greater efficiency.

Panniers were available as either fibreglass or leather, although the latter look neater they don't keep their finish if the bike is used in Northern climes, wet weather doing them no good at all. The fibreglass units are also more secure. Enough space to carry a good selection of clothes when cruising the open road and staying in motels. Probably not enough room if you are two-up and into camping.

I only own one bike, will readily admit that some of the other Harley models may be better at the daily commute, but I had no great problems adjusting to the RK's ways in traffic and quite happily did 30 miles a day to work and back. True, in winter a lot of cleaning needed to keep the bike up to spec but that was all part of the fun of ownership. The bike felt particularly secure on wet roads, the thumping vee warning automobile drivers of my approach, enough violence implied in its presence to keep them in line!

The open road where the machine really shines, 300-400 miles a day no great problem. No great problem – I didn't mean that, I meant it was a sheer buzz, an exuberant time to hit the open highway and canter along to the beat of the big vee twin's engine. That's it forte, no need for really excessive speed to get high, just get relaxed and laid back and become one with machine and scenery!

Such a sublime state helped along by suspension and brakes that are actually up to the job. Some Harley models can get seriously out of line when attacked by pot-holes, and the like, but the RK has good suspension that absorbs most of the nonsense and keeps the bike nicely on line. Ground clearance will eventually limit things, but again, the RK is better off than most Harleys in this area. The brakes would probably have the average race replica rider scared out of his mind, but given a good squeeze they do the job!

I have no hesitation about leaping on my bike, heading off on a new adventure on the weekend or during the holidays. Fortunately, my wife loves to ride pillion and we are that rarest thing in American life – a car-free family! That must tell you a lot about the capabilities of the Road King!

Pride of ownership runs deep with the Harley crowd, bikes like the Road King, even when used hard, kept in prime condition. Consequently, depreciation of used examples is relatively low and finding bargains on the secondhand market hard going. But definitely worth the effort.

Terry O'Neil

Yamaha Fazer 1000: Braying Beelzebub

140 horses and 450lbs, that is what modern (almost) naked motorcycles have come to. Okay, the esteemed editor might mutter that it should've been lighter than the R1, from which it borrows an engine, along the lines of removal of plastic should equal less mass, but Yamaha obviously wanted to keep the price competitive with the naked bruisers.

Some of that mass comes from the very strong tubular, drain-pipe sized, steel frame which, with some highish spec suspension (off the R1), gives the Fazer a very firm, controlled feel. Just as well, when the motor's wound all the way up this bike SHIFTS! Some of the frame joints won't take any prizes as high art but the set-up works extremely well.

The most obvious and biggest difference to the replica crowd, the riding position – Goldwing types might mutter in complaint after a few hundred miles but for most ex-replica jockeys it will be total bliss to sit upright on a machine with a decently padded seat. It makes the whole riding experience that much more enjoyable, especially through towns and down the back lanes.

The R1 makes ten more horses but Yamaha have gone to some effort to emphasize the midrange poke of the Fazer and despite its extra mass there is an immediate impression of totally blisterring performance and the bike actually edged away from my mate's R1 from a standing start, neither of us willing to ruin our clutches with total wheelie madness – totally unrestrained riding may change the winner... this is a very serious 1000cc watercooled across-the-frame four cylinder mill!

This was quite funny, as the Fazer's my first really crazy machine and I had some doubts about my ability to handle such excesses but I took to the bike like a duck to water! Helped, no doubt, by owning a slightly tired 1200 Bandit that though able to break all the speed laws of the land with a tenth of a throttle usage, always felt a little bit wooden, muddy, and could not hope to ride in the company of the big race replicas.

Leaping on the Fazer for the first time, then, was a revelation; like being reborn into a whole new world in which everything happened a hell of a lot faster yet paradoxically felt much safer as I seemed to be in direct contact with the rubber and engine, giving a whole new meaning to seat-of-the-pants riding.

And the brakes (straight off the R1), whilst potentially fierce stoppers, had scads of feedback that allowed an easy time for a rider used to worn Bandit stoppers that often seemed to have a mind of their own! Made for very interesting times in the wet!

After the first thirty mile ride I found my crash hat stuck on my head, the width of my grin so extreme that I couldn't get the damn thing off! Chortling with mirth, overwhelmed with adrenalin... whatever, I was addicted!

Suspension at both ends adjustable, though luckily the previous owner was the same weight as myself so it was okay straight off. After 4000 miles of hustling, it did need a touch stiffer pre-load and damping to take into account wear – the wife reckons it was all the beer I was slurping in the night, cheeky bitch!' She was okay with pillion riding but had to keep a death-grip on me to avoid being thrown off the back, such were the accelerative forces!

The minimal looking half fairing obviously isn't up to Goldwing standards of protection but it's really no worse than what you get on the R1 and does allow relatively easy 120mph cruising – the amazing thing about the Fazer, whack the throttle open from this speed in top and you still get awesome acceleration up to about 150mph! The bike definitely needs its fairing at these kinds of velocities!

Even when zooming along at highly illegal speeds the overall comfort's excellent, which given that you can commute rather nicely on the bike, as well, has to be pretty amazing. If you can get away with it, journey times can radically be reduced which means less time in the saddle for any soreness to set in. The most I've done in a day, 435 miles and I felt fine afterwards.

One possible nasty, ridden flat out, fuel dives to a rather frightening 22-25mpg, which means you can run out of gas in around 100 miles! More normal riding, say keeping the tug under the ton, brings in a more reasonable 35-40mpg whilst really slow riding (ie legal riding!) gets close to 50mpg!

At the time of writing, the bike has 9870 miles on the clock. It's still on the original chain and brake pads and is just about ready to munch its third set of Bridgestones – the front would last longer but a worn front matched with a new rear gives the bike a slightly queasy feel which I felt was inappropriate on a 140hp machine. So budget for a matched set of new rubber every time the rear tyre goes down. By the time the rear's worn out the bike feels somewhat loose on wet roads if not quite an accident looking for somewhere to happen!

I did an oil change at 6000 miles as I was doing a lot of city riding at the time, though there were no signs – such as a loose gearbox – that it was needed. Carbs and valves have yet to be touched and show no signs of requiring attention – in many ways modern Jap multi's are sealed packages that you fiddle with at your peril!

The bike gets a daily clean but the wheels are a bit tarnished and some of the engine alloy has gone off. The paint is still excellent but some rust has broken out on the engine screws, seeping out from under their finish. Nooks and crannies on the machine hard to clean, suffering accordingly. Overall, it looks exactly what it is – a well cared for machine that is used hard every day.

Phil T.

Honda CB250G5

Okay, okay, stop laughing at the back... yes, I am the proud owner of a 1975 Honda CB250G5! Acquisition of this miracle of seventies engineering entirely accidental. Three years ago an elderly neighbour asked me to demolish her shed and there the little twin had hidden for a few months after her husband's death. It was such an inoffensive machine that I had barely noted its existence over the years but could recall the exhaust blare of a Sunday morning, presumably the guy giving it a weekly start whilst he was on his last legs.

The G5 had a reputation back in the seventies for self-destructing camshaft bearings, which could be terminal as they were part of the cylinder head! As a later model that had survived for 25 years I presumed that either Honda had belately fixed the problem or the bike had such an easy life that it never became a hassle on this particular machine.

This is what is known as living in hope... even after fully charging the battery, the vertical twin resolutely refused to start. After flattening the battery, I knackered myself on the kickstart. It then dawned on me that maybe the fuel had gone off and I'd best drain the system and refill with new gas.

That was how I found out that the rubber hose from the petrol tank disintegrates if you give it an encouraging tug. A fiddle with the tap – which looked like it came off an old Brit bike, perhaps a replacement for Mr Honda's not so fine original – finally emptied the tank. Well, not quite, the fuel had stopped running out but there was still some in the tank. And, yes, it was on the reserve position. Okay, the wire mesh filter was all clogged up with gunge and the rest of the day was spent cleaning out the fuel tank and carbs.

After all that effort it still refused to start. Depending on who you believe, the G5 isn't worth collecting if it's a non-runner or might be worth a hundred notes on a good day at an auction. There's an high art to removing spark plugs from aged Jap alloy, with a tendency for threads to corrode in. Even more so with stuff like the engine screws, a whole day spent removing the more recalcitrant ones. But out the plugs came without ruining my day and in went brand new ones, with a smidgen of grease to ease their way in (down at the back, there!).

By then I had recharged the battery, after applying full choke, hopefully caressed the starter button. Clunk, clunk, clunk, whirl, whirl, whirl... and then some promising detonations in what appeared – if the level of rust and corrosion were any guide – to be the original exhaust. A moment's rest for the mill and then hit the starter again with no pressure on the throttle; the little blighter caught...

And promptly whirled around to about ten zillions revs. One throttle cable pumped full of grease later, the bike was merrily ticking over at 1500 revs and sounding like it had just stepped out of the crate. That is, before anyone had a chance to adjust the valves, carbs or timing... a little hunting on the web got me the info to do those chores and...

Well, the little bugger wouldn't start again! Once the oil was cleaned off the plugs she (has to be a SHE doesn't it?) was all go again. Until I tried to engage gear – the bike leap a good yard forwards and then stalled dead. Clutch drag didn't come into! A repeat procedure with the front brake hammered on whilst my groin burned with the indignity of being battered against the tank, finally allowed the old steamroller to meander off down the street.

Aha, big grin time. Well, until we approached the junction and I found that the front disc – a marvel of technology back in the seventies but sheer rubbish, these days – did not work in any manner recognisable as retardation. Okay, you could say that the rider was a bit retarded for not checking it before applying any serious speed, but it had seemed to work at a standstill and the sheer excitement of getting the little bugger running combined with advanced senility...

The rear drum slid us to a halt, a foot over the white line, causing one geriatric driver to nearly hit an oncoming car as he swerved to avoid what he must've assumed was a suicidal motorcyclist. Adrenaline overdrive added to ruined marital tackle, my sense of foreboding intensified by the way both silencers fell off as I made it back to my driveway in one piece. Alarmed residents of the formerly quiet suburb were seen clutching their curtains at the apparent terrorist incident going down in their street. I quickly killed the engine dead before becoming the centrepiece of advanced army and police retribution.

Ever the optimist, I decided that the bike needed a few bits and bobs to sort. There's an art to cadging spares off mates that has more than a little to do with blackmail and coercion... and if that doesn't work the odd bit of desperate pleading and quickly forgotten promises. It took a whole three weeks of such activity until the bike was ready for the road again. Additions included such niceties as a GS450 front brake, pattern Bonnie silencers, CB500/4 seat, auto rectifier and regulator, and a set of genuine – probably worth more than the whole bike – Vincent flat bars fitted with equally genuine Prince-of-Darkness switches! Yes, I have some very sick-minded mates!

Of course, the Honda reacted to these foreign objects by refusing to start. Another cleaning of oil off the plugs session and a push on the rather large second horn button that now connected the battery to the starter's solenoid, had the flames of combustion doing their trick. A very healthy rumble that would surely convince any but the most brutally pedantic fanatic that he was hearing a British twin in all its hallowed glory.

The silencers so well matched to the carburation that there was a 4000rpm flat spot from 3000 revs up. Combine that with the sixty-six-false-neutral gearbox to end up with forward motion that threatened to cause highway carnage from cars back-ending us! At least there was a discernible and seemingly potent power outpouring once it finally hit home. Hmmm, some more work needed – at least the front brake now worked.

Do not under any circumstances remove aged carbs from a seventies Honda twin. Not unless you want to waste four weeks trying to find some rubber manifolds to replace the cracked to oblivion from heat-brittleness originals! A patched set of ancient originals the best I could do. The Honda actually ran as well - if not better! - than its manufacturer intended. Amazing what you can do when armed with sheer stubbornness!

Some further refinement with gasket goo and Aradite stopped the carbs and manifolds falling off – Honda obviously had a reason for using rubber as an interface between carbs and cylinder head. Now get this, despite the desperate bodging the little twin regularly turned in 70-80mpg, which being a bit of a miser immediately endeared the bike to me!

All was well with the world for a week, or so, when the front mudguard decided to disintegrate with me at the controls doing about 60mph! Face is all in the Orient, the guards rust from the underside, look okay until little bubbles of rust show up as a warning that they are about to fall apart. I thought the whole front end was disintegrating and it was just as well that I was fitted out with a colostomy bag... the GS450's guard was fitted but that didn't look like it was in much better shape and as soon as the cadging located them a set of plastic guards were fitted.

I had little faith in the chainguard and after a close inspection even the bloody swinging-arm looked likely to go the same way. The back always impressed with its looseness but I put that down to wimpy swinging-arm bushes and pogo-stick shocks. You can't expect old hacks to handle sublimely, lucky if it goes where it's pointed and doesn't throw you in the nearest ditch when cornering. All told, the 360lb Honda was still controllable and I normally wouldn't have been too concerned but the idea of the swinging-arm breaking up had got a hold of what was left of my mind.

Then I read about the likelihood of old Jap wheel alloy breaking up and had a look at the back drum – hairline cracks revealed after a decade's crud was wire-brushed off! Put a match in the petrol tank my mates chorused but I mumbled something about there being a lot of life left in the engine and it doing 80mpg and 80mph on a good day (okay, it probably wouldn't do 80mpg when it was doing 80mph).

After a total disassembly of the rear end, the swinging-arm's rust was revealed to be of a surface rather than deeply ingrained nature whilst the bushes were – unbelievably – plastic! Shocks meant for a CB500/4, phosphor-bronze bushes made up by a mate of a mate, and a GS450E back wheel were lovingly reassembled with the biggest available hammer that I could lift, helped along by death-threats and prayers.

To be perfectly honest, back end stability and braking felt exactly the same as it did before – most likely down to the reuse of the mismatched, worn and total crap rubber whose only redeeming quality was that it was impossible to wear out the remaining 1.5mm of tread. A weird defiance of the laws of physics but nevertheless true, officer.

These arcane elements of cheap biking important when you're on strict budget. It's not that I'm exactly impoverished just that wifey has the cheque book and doesn't like motorcycling! Any excuse, I'd be back on the push-bike!

These ill-omens may give an impression of a bike about to disintegrate under me and there was certainly a bit of edginess to my first half year with the Honda but then we managed to settle into each other and get some fair mileage in.

Chronic problems include a clogged reserve feed that has tried to strand me many times – if you ever came across a pensioner furiously shaking a G5 that was probably me trying to dislodge the gunge from the wire mesh! Oiled plugs if the bike is used moderately – it has a stroker-like need to clean out its combustion chamber though confusingly I have yet to find any oil being burnt off either out of the exhaust or engine breather. And old Honda gearboxes are worth a whole article to themselves – low cunning and fresh oil (every 500 miles!) gets the better of them, most of the time, but it can be intensely embarrassing to find the engine revving through the redline thanks to a false neutral! The vagaries of Lucas switches well known to devotees of Brit bikes but nothing that WD40, Vaseline and the odd desperate prayer can't sort.

The speedo now sports an incredible – for a G5 – 78000 miles and the actual engine, unlike the chassis, shows no sign of dying. Performance is on the sedate side but it is certainly faster moving than modern 125's and even the bigger scooters. The level of refinement merely that of a well sorted Brit twin and every ride has an element of unpredictability but it keeps on rolling and costs very little to insure and run.

For a free bike, complain I should not, but if you come across one look out for the corrosion and be prepared to update suspension, braking, silencers and anything else made out of metal outside of the actual engine and frame. By the time I am finished with the little bugger I expect the only original component to be the frame – but that grand finale is some distance off yet.

W.H.K.

Kawasaki GTR1000

The advert said it was a 1999 machine, 4400 miles on the clock and in excellent condition. The four year old machine stood outside of the vendor's house, confounded my expectations of a motorcycle that had just stepped out of the showroom as well as bearing no relationship to the description in the advert. It wasn't even a 1999 model but a 1998 one - the owner explained that it had been pre-registered and I'd be a fool to quibble over a few months discrepancy. Normally, I would've smiled politely and walked away from the deal but I'd just hiked about six miles to view the bike (I like walking, honest!)...

Encouraged, the owner went on to say that it looked a bit of a mess because he had not had a chance to clean it. I muttered to myself that it was just as well that it was a shaft-drive machine because judging by the knackered tyres the chain would've been dragging the ground. No tax disc, MOT certificate or working rear brake...

The only good thing, the owner had evidently never touched the mill which rustled into life with perfect equanimity and slicked into gear without any hassle. A quick blast around the block revealed that the speedo didn't work, the mileage another outright lie! Could not fault the motor, though, even if the 600lbs of mass felt very top heavy and somewhat queasy, down I hoped to the dead rubber.

The fairing was a bit scuffed on one side, the owner reckoning that the bike had tipped over at a standstill. No way to tell if the frame was slightly bent, too much junk to see if the wheels lined up. Couldn't find any signs of filler on the plastic or evidence of bent forks.

The price in the advert was four grand but I said it wasn't worth more than two, what with all the work and expense needed to sort it out. If it wasn't for all the lies I would possibly have paid three thousand quid for it but as it was there was too much potential hidden nastiness to offer serious money. GTR's don't have the kind of rider loyalty of BMW's and there is very little residual value in the older ones.

I gave the guy my phone number and told him to ring me if he didn't want to do the deal there and then, maybe he would get a better offer; maybe not. I added that I had a few other GTR's to view and he suddenly decided that I could have it for two and a half. Very tempting but I said I only had two grand on me and that was all I was willing to pay, walking away as I said it. I could hear him swearing under his breath and the look he gave me said that in a fairer world he'd beat the stuffing out of me and just take the money.

Well, the deal was done there and then, after a document check, of course. The next thing I know, I am roaring into London traffic on a heavyweight cruiser with marginal front discs and half the caged population trying to knock me off - the other half were asleep! The GTR makes 110 horses but it is relatively civilized stuff with plenty of midrange poke and even the ability to rumble along in the higher gears at minor revs.

What it won't do is change direction on a whim, rather like big Beemers it likes to be set up on course and progress in a stately manner. Try telling that to London cagers! Although the shaft drive was relatively subtle in its action, it would sometimes churn away in complaint if I tried to whip the engine into action in second or third, slamming the bike through almost non-existent gaps. Thus, there always seemed to be a slight delay before my actions on the throttle and bars were turned into reality.

Several near misses and enough heart murmurs to have me heading for an intensive care ward later, I ambled into my Stanmore bit of suburbia and bunged the bike into the garage, wondering if I'd done the right thing in buying the Kawasaki. Quite worrying, the next few days I found out there were plenty of GTR's that had been stuffed into the tarmac or an energy-absorbing cage, leaving plenty of parts for me to bargain over in the breakers.

Less pleasant, the amount of hassle it takes to remove the plastic - which is nothing compared with the sheer awkwardness of putting it all back on. I was determined to find out if the frame was bent, but it all looked okay to me. As well as the obvious consumables, and a strip down of the braking system, the bike needed a good clean up to take off a couple of years worth of crud, which just revealed tarnished alloy and rusted steel underneath.

Clutching a new MOT certificate, I decided a run up to Scotland would test the bike's mettle, if not my own. In theory, a few hundred miles on the GTR would be a cinch but - there's always a but, isn't there? - there was an annoying amount of buzziness at 70-75mph that reappeared around 90mph in top gear. True, the bike was happy enough to blast along at 100-110mph but the level of paranoia involved made that a less than pleasant experience. Anything under 70mph, the bike would've been swept off the road by impatient cagers.

After 120 miles my backside was twitching in complaint and I pulled off the motorway to the services. I'd basically been trolling along in top gear for a couple of hours and had the shock of my life when the gearbox lever refused to cooperate with my boot! A bit of clutch work and clumping on the lever, I finally got her to go down through the box!

After filling up, fuel worked out at a less than impressive 37mpg. I checked the coolant level as an awful lot of heat was steaming off the motor but it was okay. A fifteen minute coffee break, I was rearing to go. The gearbox a bit creaky but worked okay.

Exactly 91 miles later, the transmission started screaming in protest and there was a sudden bang and the bike was free-wheeling in the fast lane! As might be imagined, this totally confused the cagers and frightened the shit out of me! More by divine luck than anything else, I made it to the hard shoulder and switched off the fast disintegrating motor.

It's at moments like this when I wished I was a good citizen, had joined one of the rescue services. It was unlikely that I could push the massive brute to the nearest exit ramp let alone the nearly 300 miles back to base. Pondering my options, a white Transit van pulled over... a worrying moment as I figured it was the cops out for a quick shakedown but no it was a fellow biker called Fred who happily agreed to bung the bike into his van and head for the nearest bit of civilization.

I am sure he regretted his remarkable generosity, we both did our backs in lifting the GTR into the Transit. To cut a long story short, in the interests of relevance, another mate with a small lorry rescued me from up north once we found somewhere to park that had a telephone.

The GTR's engine turned out to have shed some gear teeth and done in most of its bearings, a basketcase! The thing was sold off for spares at a massive loss. I am now looking for a nearly new Beemer.

Mike Street

Kawasaki ER500: ER Ward

Here's a death-race scenario for you. You're aboard a Kawasaki ER500 doing a reasonable 75mph on a two lane highway. Dodge over to the other side of the road, roar pass the big Ford. A brief blast to 85mph, no problem for the nicely whirring watercooled vertical twin, then cut in front of the cage. Only Mr Cager has taken that moment to exert his 200hp and the tarmac is now occupied by a grinning idiot! Enough distraction for the oncoming lorry to come as a very nasty shock.

Diaper time. The Ford has decided to match my speed, braking and accelerating in a rare exhibition of cager competence. Beyond 85mph the ER's power kind of fades out, although on a good day in favourable conditions it will put 110mph on the clock. The front disc and rear drum combo is as far from leading edge as you can get on a modern motorcycle and no match for the cage's retardation. By now the lorry is braking and flashing his lights and death seems imminent.

Give the ER its due, given a desperate body twitch it scuttled across the front of the lorry and zoomed along the far edge of the road as if it hadn't a concern in the world. There was a moment when I thought the fishtailing rear end of the lorry was going to knock us off the road, if not out of this world, but the driver took his foot off the brake and the thing straightened out, leaving about half an inch difference between maximum pain and a big grin.

Does this make machines like the ER inherently dangerous? Possibly. Arguably, if it had R1 type power it would have hustled past the cage so rapidly that he wouldn't have had a chance to get me. Even midrange cars have enough outright open road grunt to cause problems for small motorcycles such as this - and I would definitely say the ER is the absolute bare minimum that you would want to employ outside of town.

Motorway cruising, the bike could be wound up to 90mph but felt a bit happier at 80-85mph, as did my shoulders - not complaining as it is a naked bike! Below those speeds, though, the ER was a very comfortable machine that caused no problems for my average sized body. Thanks to its gear driven balancer and 180 degree crank throw, vertical twin vibes were thankfully absent though the mill never felt entirely bland like, say, a GS500. I just kept wishing it were a 650cc twin with all the extra grunt that would doubtless result.

Build quality a mixed bag. Cycle part paint was still nice and rosy but engine alloy (not to mention the screws) suffered from winter corrosion whilst the exhaust and wheels needed an extraordinary amount of effort to keep the shine up to a reasonable standard.

Suspension damping, at both ends, does degenerate but with 21000 miles on the clock it is still a way off pogo-stick status and country road handling is still generally fine - only a series of heavy bumps and pot-holes can throw the chassis into a bit of a wobble. Never really nasty, though, it has never degenerated into a speed wobble, even when loaded with pillion and luggage - such excess does have the engine gasping at the top end!

One worrying aspect, winter riding in town, when the engine isn't given much stick, the oil level window clouds up with white crud! Can't actually see the level any more. Fortunately, changing the oil clears the whiteness out but this can be a 500 mile chore if the bike isn't used hard to clean out its innards.

Annoyingly, when used hard on the motorway, the oil can disappear at quite a rapid rate but the normally slick gearchange goes clunky as a warning sign, so difficult to run the mill dry! Similarly, battery acid level can do a disappearing act if not given a twice monthly top-up and I once warped one battery by running it dry! Lights and horn only tolerable if you'd graduated from a smaller machine and know no better.

Fuel has always been a bit disappointing, around the 50mpg mark even when used mildly. Possibly, a retune of the carbs and a freer flowing exhaust might help but it's too much hassle for me to get into. In fact, I have added no extras nor done any mod's to the bike - it isn't the kind of machine to inspire such fancies.

Cheap and generally cheerful, not particularly economical, very usable but a bit lost if you regularly break the speed limits, it nevertheless has a touch of vertical twin character. I have my eye on a TDM900 next!

Martin B.

Yamaha TDM900

 10,000 miles in six months, resulted in some very interesting observations on Yamaha's unique TDM900. Perhaps the most surprising, the parallel twin turned in 60mpg when ridden with a modicum of restraint but still keeping ahead of every caged civilian in sight. It required a peculiar kind of highway depravity, as well as plenty of money in kickbacks for speeding, to get worse than 50mpg.

The 2003 machine had only done 2800 miles before it fell into my hands, absolutely prime and seemed to sing with joy at its very existence. The old owner reckoned it was a bit too heavy and awkward for him - hilarious, as he was a lot taller and wider than me.

My delight in ownership readily inspired by the excellent riding position, nicely upright, comfortable saddle with plenty of room to move about - coupled with the easy going nature of the fuel injected twin cylinder engine, the bike was as at home doing short-hop commutes as it was cruising the open highway for hours on end.

Unfortunately, the suspension was set up towards the comfort end of the spectrum, giving a slightly loose feel through fast sweepers, though this was never dangerous and something that became less annoying as time went by. Replacement rear shocks were hopelessly overpriced so rather than spend any hard earned dosh I didn't upgrade it. In fact, all the aftermarket bits and bobs available for the TDM were way overpriced and the bike came and stayed stock. Bear in mind, I mostly rode solo and didn't weigh much more than ten stone, heavier mortals might not get away with such miserly behavior.

Though the bike couldn't be called constipated, it did start to decline in forward motion once 115mph was on the clock and it required a degree of low cunning and favourable external conditions to pull more than 125mph. The bike rode higher than most roadsters and that front fairing probably had the aerodynamics of a brick wall - it did keep most of the rain off my upper body, though.

Vibration was never particularly intrusive, the balancer system quelling most of the oddly spaced firing interval 270 degree crankshaft's lack of primary balance. The exhaust note was supposed to be like a vee-twin's but it didn't really inspire me in the same way as an old Brit twin or even a Jap middleweight (on gutted pipes). Did sound neat on the overrun, though.

Not an easy beast to clean but given half an hour every other day it didn't lose its shine, though my six months was during the Spring and Summer, not that it was any guarantee of a lack of wet weather. Given 3000 miles of wear, the Dunlops became very edgy on damp roads even though there was more than 3mm of tread left. A new set of Pirellis totally transformed wet weather riding though don't expect more than 4000 miles from them.

Didn't do any engine maintenance, nor even an oil change - the bike just didn't seem to need them, so leave well alone. This didn't go down too well with a couple of wannabe purchasers but I still sold the bike without any trouble, for about 300 notes less than I paid for it. Could probably have broken even if I had been a touch more hardcore but I had a new machine lined up and wanted a quick sale. And the bike needed new rubber, brake pads and chain.

I would have liked a slightly harder edge to the machine - 20hp extra and much firmer suspension; perhaps 50lbs less mass. Ah well, there's always another model year to look forward to. Given the right price and condition, I can recommend them, though.

Mike Ensleigh

Yamaha XS-2 650: The 150000 mile warbler

There have been many stories of Japanese bikes charging through the hundred thousand mile barrier. Some have even doubled that; but rarely. One of these high road heroes had almost everything replaced, only the frame stock. Another still had its original engine but most of its chassis updated. Rare indeed is the bike that survives high mileage in more or less stock form. Well, my 1970's Yamaha 650 XS-2 is one such marvel of Japanese technology.

The cynics amongst you all will by now be chortling with amusement at such an ancient device, one famed for its incoherent handling and easy to come by speed wobbles, surviving for more than 32 months let alone 32 years in the Californian coastal heat. Immediately, it must be admitted that the front forks ran to beefier springs and thicker oil, whilst the rear shocks were non-standard right from the day of purchase... only a fool with a death-wish would bother buying an XS with standard suspension; but so long have they tamed the wilful demons of the inner beast that in the whole to quibble at their providence seems entirely mean-minded. Well, that's my excuse, anyway.

Whilst we are on the subject of faithfulness to original spec, mayhem caused by age and decay also afflicted the silencers, which took a decade and a half to slowly decay from the inside out until all that remained was a facade of metal that disintegrated one sunny March day. The first I knew about their dissolution a military boom shortly followed by a disinclination to run above 3000 revs even with the choke fully on. It was kinda fun whilst it lasted but arrival home coincided with the overheated engine glowing bright red. But even that transgression failed to dent its basic indestructibility.

Again, okay, I am an old hand at Japanese machinery and would not even think about running an engine with the same lube for longer than a 1000 miles. Most times, 500 miles more like it. As anyone who has ever had a long term relationship with a Jap twin will tell you, there is one very obvious and disturbing intrusion into whatever fantasy land rules that makes such maintenance more or less obligatory. The dreaded gearbox intransigence. Oil shared between engine and gearbox suffers a very hard life. Enough said, ignore it at your peril.

Old Honda gearboxes most noted, many times, as anti-theft devices. And the XS very much in the same class. An acquired art very much an understatement, a plenitude of false neutrals and even some random jumping out of gears, but all stuff that you learn to live with and adapt to.

Brings me rather neatly to vertical twin vibration. No balancers, here, thank you very much – both the XS500 and TX750 twins suffered complex balancer systems that fared even worse than the 650, thanks to rapid wearing chains throwing things out of kilter. The XS a fairly hefty device that helps soak up the vibes and a fair old bit of precision engineering that doesn't really suffer from what vibes get through. Only really noticeable as an old hack when leaping off a newer bike straight on to the XS, when, yes, it does a fair impression of a pneumatic drill, especially above 5000 revs. But long term owners end up admitting such nastiness as merely character.

I am also of the school indentured in leaving well enough alone if it's working okay. The valves only ever get done when the tappets start rattling loud enough to drown out whatever rather loud pair of (British imitation) silencers are infecting the back end. Which means they maybe go for 10,000 miles without being touched by human hand. 50-odd horses from 650 cc's aint really touching on the ability of Japanese engines and consequently it's a rare year when I have to do the timing and set the points. A weekly chore on British tackle – chortle with incredulity.

The Yamaha did need a complete rewire to sort out poor starting and flickering light bulbs but it does run to the vintage quaintness of a voltage regulator with its own set of adjustable points. Bear in mind, the motor is impossible to start with a dead battery, and the latter seems to have a very hard life; wisdom comes with age and one thing I have learnt, monthly top-ups and yearly battery replacements are mandatory for peace of mind.

A friend (I always thought of him as such anyway) recently described the engine as sounding like a very large lawn-mower and it is true that there are sufficient rattles and pings and tremors to make you think that the mill is about to explode or seize... it's sounded like that for more than half its 150,000 mile life!

Top speed's around the 120mph mark but the bike is much happier cruising at 75-85mph. The suspension changes have quelled most of the speed wobbles, but it does shake its head a bit at 105mph when two-up and I haver experienced some frightening tank-slappers around the 110mph mark... never fight back or try to slow down, just relax your grip on the bars and the wobbles die out!

I can well understand that a modern rider would be thrown into a total panic and thence down the road. Certainly, buddies on following machines have described the bike as having a frame that was trying to break up and I gained no end of street cred for my nonchalance.

Braking basically stock but the front calipers need a lot of attention, these, days, and it is a long way from the standards of modern bikes. Tempted to replace the whole front end with something modern but the opportunity has yet to arise.

To be perfectly honest, it's a very rare day when I go above 85mph, it's rather too much like abuse on the old girl for me to inflict on such a good friend. The bike has been repainted and polished, looks almost like new in contrast to the brutal sounding motor, whose tune I have grown to love. To me, it's an easy ride but I can appreciate that someone leaping on to the XS off a newish bike would find themselves somewhat shaken by the amount of effort needed and just how rough the bike feels and sounds.

With the freer flowing exhaust, rejetted carbs and aftermarket airfilter, the old girl actually turns in 60mpg most of the time. Okay, a fairly moderate hand on the throttle, but still enough to put nearly all auto drivers in their proper place – eating my exhaust fumes. Tyre wear is moderate, more than 10k, anyway. The final drive upgraded with new sprockets and O-ring chain which made a hell of a difference – infrequent adjustments and more than 15k compared to about a third of that on the stringy original fare. Money well spent. The bike is cheaper to run than the vast majority of modern tackle!

With 150,000 miles done, the XS is probably due for semi-retirement but that leaves me pondering a potential replacement. Kawasaki's W650 looks possible, a bit of tweaking here and there to adapt it to my riding needs and maybe I am looking at a serious motorcycle for the highway of life.

Ben K.