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Fuck Netanyahu and the murderous Israeli regime. Free Palestine!
It all started in a service station half-way along the M8. The rain trickled down the back of my neck and uncured my vision. Because I was in a hurry, my 400/4 was playing its favourite game. First it pretended it was a Jota (firing on three), then a Bonnie (firing on two) and finally a Velocette. To add to the fun it always cut out just as l was passing a lorry. So, it was into the services, out with the WD40, off with the tank — a job designed by Mr. Honda to skin frozen knuckles — and spray the coils while fiddling around with any wires that came to hand. Eventually it fired on two and could be sort of revved until it returned to its original, happy state as a Jap four.
Then the idea came. I needed a big ploddy twin with a fairing for the winter. It would be nice if it was big enough for my six foot four height. Before I knew it, I had decided on an ex-police BMW. Three days later I was at an auction. Bidding for bikes is really exciting stuff, and could become addictive if I was richer. Although I find a 2 hour engine and gearbox guarantee far from reassuring.
I bid a mere £460 for a white 1979 R75/7, but was told the reserve was £500. I had to phone back the next day to see if the owner would sell it for that money - I had to point out the oil leaks and the dodgy swinging arm before he finally gave in.
When I went to collect the bike I almost dropped it. I'd only ridden a faired bike once before, and it certainly wasn't a re-inforced concrete and lead Avon - once these things start moving downwards... The choke was a bit stiff but there was plenty of power in the massive battery - which was just as well as there wasn't a kickstart. Once running the beast sounded like guerrilla warfare in a foundry. Hmmm, tappets, I thought. I put it into first.. I put it int first... l put it into first and it finally stayed. I let out the clutch. Nothing happened. The auctioneer, kind enough to stay late so that I could collect the bike, looked at me expectantly. Very slowly, like a Bantam in treacle, my magnificent BMW crept forward. Ah, oil on the clutch plates, I hoped. It took three attempts to get the bike the two foot ramp out of the shed.
At the first corner I tried to indicate right but found that the right hand switch had no central groove - it took half a dozen attempts to get it to work.
I went to my mate's flat for a cup of tea and bag of chips. It took us twenty minutes of combined intellect, force and four letter words, after I'd decided to check the fuel level before leaving. I won't describe the correct technique (hint - the cap works backwards), because it will deprive new BM owners of hours of fun. On the motorway, going home, the bike ran along at eighty with four grand on the clock, unable to go faster because of clutch slip. I sat behind the fairing, nice and warm, pretending to be in "Zen and the Art" hoping I was inconspicuous. No tax. no MOT, no speedo...
It failed the MOT on the speedo and rear wheel bearing. The latter were a little loose because I hadn't re-shimmed a new set I'd fitted. Shims cost 80p each, which can work out expensive as the correct clearance is achieved by trial and error, and they won't exchange them unless you're very nice to the dealer. As for the speedo - "Needs a new one, sir, seventy quid please" - investigation proved that the brass bush where the cable entered the housing needed a squirt of oil. Ten pounds bought a new cable and I had a bike with a MOT.
Getting tired of being blown off by enthusiastic cyclists, I decided I had to fix the clutch. It took two days and the fabrication of several special tools to take the gearbox apart. There was an oil leak and the clutch plate was worn down to the metal. Being a courier, I was a bit annoyed that it took so long, but most of the time was spent making suitable tools. A new clutch plate cost £40, which I had to pay because I couldn't find out which car plate is supposed to be interchangeable (it isn't a VW Beetle). I also had to spend £20 on a crankshaft end seal. I destroyed this trying to fit it (i hope no-one I know reads this) and refitted the old one with plenty of Hermatite - it worked perfectly. While in the bowels of the engine, I also replaced a 20p oil pump cover gasket.
I now had some power, which may have been my downfall. The rear drive bevel is mounted on a bearing clad steel shaft. An oil leak from the rear bevel housing was traced to the fact that this shaft had snapped. Don't believe the Haynes manual where they say "the Bevel Drive Housing is not Owner Serviceable" — it just needs lots of luck and an extra big hammer.
I had owned the bike for a month and not used it in anger. The big one, I figured, Edinburgh to London by lunchtime. I started out at 4am on a beautiful, moonlit morning, riding the curvy A68 over the hills to England. By 8am I was In Ponteland with a dead cylinder. I took out the plug to clean It, and crossed the thread in the incredibly soft alloy refitting It. I caught the train to London.
The mileage was nearly 100 grand. Luckily, I had written off my 400/4. I had the 400 back on the road for £15, leaving enough over from the insurance to really fix the BM. A local shop quoted £300 for a rebore, new exhaust valves and Boyer electronic ignition, done in a fortnight. The idea of a working BMW got me all excited and I agreed. I picked it up six weeks and £454 later. I ran it in very carefully, and had it set up properly at 600 miles by the excellent AP in Edinburgh. After 2000 miles, I started to really use the motor, finding that it could shift; the Boyer had transformed the bike.
With the motor renovated, the bike felt light and fast. The speed was sufficient, although not by comparison with a Jap 750. I saw an indicated 120mph on a piece of Scottish Autobahn, but to get smooth performance the carbs have to be spot-on. This means adjustment every 1000 miles. Taking the barn door, sorry, fairing off the front end made it feel more like a Featherbed. The handling was good but always needed some muscle to throw it about. Enthusiasm in the twisty bits produced satisfying grinding noises, but the long wheelbase made huge shifts of bodyweight a bit too .necessary when really moving.
I found the shaft drive almost unnoticeable, while the stronger fork springs fitted by the police helped play down the usual fork dive BMW characteristic. Only the clunky gearchange slowed things down.
The single front disc felt vague, but combined with the rear drum made for secure and rapid stopping. Wet weather disc lag was about three and a half weeks. Pads last between ten and fifteen grand, rear brake shoes somewhat longer. Just as well - they're expensive.
The thirst was quite moderate at around 50mpg, dropping down to around forty if I spent the day chasing the red line. Rear tyres last for a good ten grand,while the front seems to go on for ever, despite my riding style. Electrics were good, but ancient, with occasional bits of switchgear disintegrating. Altogether, a very competent motorcycle.
In the end, I decided to sell it because it was only competent. I only rode it about twice when I didn't have to. It lacked sparkle. There is something about some bikes that, however ratty, make you glad you own them. The BM didn't cut it, even after I'd adjusted to all its quirks. I sold it for £150 more than I paid for it. The cost of all my repairs was tax deductible, so I didn't lose out.
Ex-police bikes are very difficult to sell, even though I've heard of them going for £1200. Don't pay that much, £600 is more than enough for any ex-police bike, even if restored. More than that will buy you a nice straight bike that still has a bit of life left.
Owning mine was interesting, and certainly removed any desire to own a BM from my system. I don't think I'd buy another bike from an auction. I had to replace every item on that bike that could wear out, including all the rubber because of the previous owner's neglect — he left it in a shed for a year. As you can see, spares are expensive and you pay for the name.
The final reassurance that I'd done the right thing in selling the bike came two hours after I'd stashed the cash and waved off the new owner. His voice, halfway to Durham, came over the telephone, "Ralf, how do you open the petrol cap?"
I knew things were going to get serious when the handlebars started trying to leap out of my hands. This was the first positive sign I'd had from the Yam's chassis, which normally had a dead feel to it that gave little indication of just what was likely to happen next.
l'd been riding the bike for two days, but most of that time was spent lugging over 500lbs of metal around Central London. It had taken that amount of time to become used to transmission slop, a distinct lack of power below three grand and eight year old front forks that had lost their damping, springing and precision. Using the front brakes had several not so amusing consequences — front fork dive, the bike shoots off into oncoming traffic and pedestrians leap, back in near heart failure mode from the amount of noise the discs make. Who needs horns?
I was following the A4 from London to Cardiff and it was early morning, the sun actually just making an appearance trying to provide some much needed heat, the road was fast and loose, the kind of long curves that the Yam should have been quite happy to live with. It might have been fine when brand new, but a lot of wear in the suspension meant I had to make allowances for its age. There was really too much weight carried too high, for such worn components to keep things under control. As It was so early in the day, I wasn't really paying too much attention, letting the bike purr along between 65 and 70mph, something it was quite happy to do with little vibration and minimum hassle from the suspension
Halfway through a curve the front wheel hit a pothole. It wasn't a huge crater or anything too radical. Most bikes might just twitch slightly. Not the Yam, the handlebars went from lock to look before I had time to realise just what was happening. In the middle of a speed wobble there's not much you can do really, you just sit there with a sinking heart and say a few prayers, waiting to see what happens next. The survival rule is not to press back against the handlebars, because this only accelerates the rate at which the bike oscillates.
Letting go of the handlebars isn't on either, because you need to keep the throttle open, backing off can cause the bike to flip right off the road, although sometimes it does work. The brave solution is to open the throttle and accelerate out of trouble. I let the Yam go its own way for a few yards, keeping just the minimum of pressure on the handlebars, but it just became worse. It was just as well that there were no cars on the road, for the Yam was using two lanes of carriageway. I opened the throttle very slowly to see what would happen. For a moment, I thought the bike was going to go straight through a hedge, but it pulled itself together and straightened out.
For the next fifty miles I cruised along at a mere 50mph. A cursory examination of the bike had revealed a reasonable amount of tyre tread, no loose bolts and only a mild amount of free play in the front forks.
When the DOHC triple was introduced in '77 it was hailed as having the smoothness of a four with better agility and shaft drive thrown in to pander to those not inclined to oil their fingers. The reality was that the Yam was heavier than the Honda CB750, less smooth, equally insecure and much less reliable.
When new the suspension was reasonably firm, and even had some kind of damping. The shaft drive was not exactly remote and could quite upset the Yam on a trailing throttle in smooth or bumpy bends. Throw in some wear and the rear end become very vicious, lurching the back wheel around during power shifts and providing some very weird times in the wet, when the brakes don't bother to work anyway.
On the '78 Yam I was trying to ride, the stock shocks had been thrown away and some 850 units fitted. These benefited from being new and having stiffer springs but were still lacking in damping. Once in a while the shaft drive would wind them up and the poor confused things wouldn't know if they. were supposed to be compressed. or bouncing back. This didn't exactly inspire confidence.
Even though the bike weighs so much. it doesn't seem to help in strong cross winds when the bike starts to wander off course. Riding into strong winds knocks off some of the power available at high speeds. Under such circumstances it's almost impossible to qet the speedo past 100 mph. Not that there's much point unless you really like frightening yourself.
The XS750 is one of the most unsuitable bikes available for riding at illegal speeds. The mass, poor forks and intrusive shaft drive all mean that it's much easier to fall off than go around a corner rapidly. While I'm quite happy to take risks on some bikes to compensate for chassis faults, on the XS I was always worried that the craziness of the chassis would occur without warning, when least expected and in situations where the presence of other road users meant a visit to the hospital was more likely than reaching my destination.
The XS is not dissimilar to the XS650 in this respect except that the triple's engine does not have the same kind of inner strength of the big twin, with neither the reputation of lasting long distances with the minimum of maintenance nor the ability to deliver useful performance despite its handling limitations.
The engine is of relatively straightforward design - by 80s standards, anyway. Despite using DOHCs the engine only produces 64hp — with its heavy mass, the XS can be burnt off by most 550s. The crankshaft is quite a tough roller bearing job that outlasts the rest of the engine. Primary drive is by chain which was worn out by twenty grand on earlier bikes. It makes a fairly obvious rattle and produces a rather sloppy transmission.
The pistons were in trouble by twenty five grand if the bike was neglected and/or thrashed. Well maintained bikes can run to around forty grand, when you really need to throw the motor away because too many components are worn out to make rebuilding an economic proposition. The direct action of the shaft drive tends to destroy both the gearbox and its own bearing joints. Later bikes don't tend towards such self destruction unless they are really screwed along on the red line.
The well used bike I was riding had thirty five and a half grand on the clock, had been rebored once (at 30000 miles) and had a top end that made more noise than the exhausts. The combination of a heavy clutch and a gearbox that was on the way out did not make for a pleasant time. Any attempt to ignore the clutch made for some disturbing metallic screams from the gearbox area and a lurch from the chassis once the gears ground into position. Neutral was impossible to find at a standstill, changes between first and second had a fifty-fifty chance of happening, while shifting down from third to second would quite often put you straight into neutral. This made life rather more interesting and in certain circumstances is a feasible alternative for those who can't get hold of a gun to play Russian Roulette. The gearbox did have a certain amount of feel and by the end of a week's riding it was almost possible to compensate for its worn out condition.
Machines in good condition and of later manufacture have quite reasonable changes, far ahead of BMW twins of the same era and up to the standards of the worst of the 750 fours (Honda). But the back end is still upset by mismatching of engine speed with road speed during down changes in corners.
Top speed of a new bike is around 120mph, but most people will be dissuaded from getting beyond 115mph by a combination of excessive vibes and the dubious handling, that even on flat, smooth, straight roads can switch out of a gentle weave into a nice little tank slapper without any warning.
On the bike I was riding I had no intention of going beyond the ton, not just because I didn't want to die quite yet, I also didn't want to be responsible for returning a bike to its, er, proud owner with the con-rods sticking out of the crankcases. At an indicated ton, there were lots of vibes coming through the footrests and I could have sold a recording of the top end noises to the producers of a war film.
I could find no point in the rev range where the motor really came on cam, it was a bit more useful above 3 grand and out of the ballgame with 7 1/2 on the rev counter, but there was never any real hint of 750cc doing their business — the power was effectively damped out by the 510lbs of metalwork. A low mileage 1980 (last year for the 750) job had a bit more urge at very low revs but was no more interesting at higher engine speeds. The later 850, which has to carry the same mass but develops 79hp, is a rather more useful device, which can give quite a nice kick above five grand.
Riding the XS in the wet is a definite no-no with UK weather this rather limits the uses of the bike... well, OK I exaggerate a little, it is possible to potter along on the Yam in the wet, it just needs nerves of steel and a strong stomach. My main objection is the lack of feedback from the tyres which means there's just no warning of impending doom. On some bikes this isn't so important because the chassis, geometry and suspension all combine to keep the tyres in check. 0n the Yamaha everything works against the rider. There's too much mass, too much transmission slop, an imprecise gearchange, worn out suspension and a dodgy frame. Once the XS starts to misbehave it begins to resemble an elephant in a china shop with the important difference that the china's represented by those nasty tin boxes that tend to destroy errant motorcycles.
I will always remember the time I had to suddenly change direction in the middle of a corner to avoid a Capri that needed half my side of the road to get around the bend. If you've been riding for a couple of years then reflexes take over; you're down through the box, bringing in the brakes, flicking up the bike almost before you've realised there's a hazard. This smooth control of things disappeared when the gearbox found a false neutral and the front disc suddenly broke through the layer of water. While the sudden lack of power sent the back wheel off in a vicious arc, the locked front wheel sent the bike off in the other direction. If I was a skilled speedway rider I may have been able to balance out these forces, but being shit scared I stamped on the gear lever and released the front brake. The series of lurches that resulted ended up with the bike taking up trail riding after crossing in front of a car that was coming around after the Capri.
Sitting on the Yam, there was little choice but to hold on, hope the thing didn't decide to go into a speed wobble, try to lose some speed by shutting down the throttle and, applying some ever-so-gentle pressure to the brakes. Note to the unlucky, to avoid breaking a leg, kick out your leg against the footrest to clear yourself from the bike just before it hits the ground. The XS does not make a good trail bike, one already going too fast and out of control makes for an even less efficient off road cycle. The front wheel started to slide as soon as it met the gravel, when the rear wheel touched home it did a thirty mile an hour slide that demolished some poor farmer's hedgerow. Much to my astonishment the thing came to a halt, leaving a two yard hole in the hedgerow and a rear wheel full of broken branches. The only problem was how to get the bike out without the thing falling over. There were too many branches to use the power and if I got off it was likely to fall over, and I knew from bitter experience that picking up 500lbs of hot metal wasn't going to be much fun.
Luckily, the Capri owner actually came back to see whether or not he had managed to kill me. I suppose I should have broken his kneecaps or something but I was just relieved to find some help. The Yamaha was unharmed and apart from some psychic problems that will probably catch up with me one day, I was unscathed. Having ridden both the later 850 and a nicely maintained 750, I can report that both bikes are a little safer but still not really the; kinds of devices I would be happy to ride fast in wet weather. Something like a Triumph twin or older Norton would make the XS seem the dangerous beast that it really is in the wet.
The X5 is mostly employed as a soft tourer; used within legal limits on good condition suspension it just about survives scrutiny Unfortunately, it consumes tyres and fuel at a far from economic rate. 70mph cruising gives 42mpg, 60mph pottering 50mpg and dodging around town averages 40mpg. Rear tyres are finished off in 4000 miles, fronts in 8500 miles. Brake pads last for 7000 miles. For sure, there are no chains to buy which saves fifteen quid every ten thousand miles and a lot of dirty fingers.
The poor efficiency comes from having the extra twist in the transmission for the shaft drive, an underdeveloped cylinder head design and quick wear internals that lose power due to the increase in friction. The three carbs don't need too much maintenance (say 3000 miles for balancing) but with such a low power output there's really no reason why they couldn't use a single carb.
Anyone considering buying a XS750 will have in approach the bike with great care. There are still some nice bikes around that have engines will lots of life left - especially true for '79 and '80 models. But the good bikes are the exception rather than the rule. A bike that's had a hard life will be lots of expensive trouble.
As well as the mechanical problems there are all kinds of interesting electrical foibles. The coils aren't exactly top notch stuff - difficult starting and misfiring in the wet are the usual signs when a set is on the way out. The alternator burns out due to a faulty rectifier - inconvenient rather than expensive to fix - and all the lights blow out from time to time just to make sure the owner is paying attention. Electric starts have been known to stop working after twenty grand.
Find a bike with a quiet top end and a smooth transmission and you'll probably be on the way to getting a reasonable buy. On hard used bikes just about everything wears out, and despite some tell-tale noises these bikes can often seem to run quite well, so buyers need to know quite a lot about engines when they look over an XS750.
Personally, buying an unknown used XS presents so many pitfalls that I would avoid it with the same kind of diligence I apply to avoiding members of the local scooter club, a device I've avoided ever since I was fourteen and a tree in a friend's backyard had the audacity to step out into my path while learning to master a clutch on a Vespa. Oh yes, XS750s - unlike, say, a Trident (an equally unreliable triple) there is no area in which the Yamaha excels to compensate for its failings in many areas. Having said that, I know a couple of people who have owned them from new, used them in all weathers, haven't been inside the motors and won't listen to my smartarse denouncements - but then, they do very regular maintenance and have cared for the triples with the kind of single minded determination I can only seem to apply to chasing astoundingly beautiful Thai girls.
Given the usual editorial treatment in search of the inner strength of an engine, I fear the Yam wouldn't last for very long, unless it threw me off before I blew it apart...
The article that originally upset the trade was entitled CONTRACTION OF THE UK MARKET LEAVES THE DEALERS WITH A CHOICE OF COMPLETE CORRUPTION OR ACTUALLY GIVING THE PUBLIC SOME KIND OF REASONABLE SERVICE. This, I still feel, neatly sums up the state of the trade.
Far from being run by enthusiasts for enthusiasts, I was of the opinion that except for financial backing there was little difference between the new breed of slum landlords and large numbers of motorcycle dealers.
The collapse of the new bike market, the huge rents, rates and wages, and the large number of hastily renovated crashed bikes all combine to make things rather difficult for the straight, honest dealer.
Further, the used bike market has fragmented into two distinct sectors. On the one hand there are dealers (mostly in London) who are undercutting the prices in even private sales. The bikes they have on offer are either renovated crash jobs, stolen or about to explode. Very few of these dealers are members of the MAA/MRA, so have no restraint on their trading practices. On the other side we have what can be called the legitimate trade. These people trade out of fairly modern showrooms usually situated in expensive main road locations.
Their reputations vary from good to bad, and being squeezed from every direction even the most enthusiastic of enthusiasts amongst their number are beginning to adopt some of the dubious practices of the other end of the market. While it's probably true to say that a majority of dealers start out as enthusiasts, that enthusiasm often evaporates when faced by the hard edged reality of hard to shift stock, huge overheads and too few customers.
For instance. I know one dealer who, twenty years ago, used to race motorcycles and progressed from breaking bikes to running a showroom. These days his only enthusiasm is for making money at all costs. The number of times I've been in his showroom and heard him bombard some unsuspecting punter with a stream of lies defies comprehension. I think that he is not an exceptional case.
The main drift of that article, and the rest of this magazine, was that motorcycling should be fun. The days when young men were willing to sign away their excess money in exchange for three years HP and the latest superbike have long since disappeared. What I hoped and still attempt to show is that it's possible to pick up an interesting bike for a couple of hundred quid and get some kicks in the fast lane, despite various fractions within this country that would turn it into a dull, dreary, dead place.
The idea that someone should devote their whole life and income to the purchase of some expensive new or recent secondhand bike is still too prevalent amongst the trade. While there can be little objection to manufacturing companies making money out of producing motorcycles, the rest of the trade have to be rather more convincing to justify their profits.
The situation is, of course, rather more complex than just dealers making a profit out of selling a bike. If, in buying a bike from a dealer, I have to pay a large part of the money to parasitic bank managers, greedy landlords and free spending local councils, then I'd really rather take my chances in the private market.
There are still dealers around who give a good if expensive deal. But until they cut their charges, overheads and wages, I, like most of the readers of this magazine, will be content with a Haynes manual and a selection of large hammers.
It'll be with interest that I watch which way the trade goes.
The opening article
in the first issue was called Running Out Of Customers and rather upset
the trade. Kevin Kelly, Director of Motorcycle Services Motor Agents
Association presents his view.
When I complained to the editors of the USED MOTORCYCLE GUIDE that they were less than kind to the bike trade in their first issue, I was offered editorial space to express some views on the current state of the trade. As you can see TRADE IN A STATE is the title I have selected for this opportunity. Regrettably, this title is accurate as well as ironic.
Motorcycle dealers are enthusiasts. That's what makes them take up business in the first place and why they are so different from their car cousins. But they are vulnerable to the same commercial whims from their suppliers, particularly the pressure to accept stock and shift it at all costs. This is one of the reasons for the parlous condition which the trade finds itself in this year.
In fact it is interesting that the car trade is currently experiencing the self same problems that have recently beset the motorcycle trade and which it is only just recovering from. An over supply of products in the early 1980s resulted in suicidal discounting, reduced resale value of machines, dealers fighting tooth and nail for survival and unhappy customers.
In 1980 315000 new machines were registered, a near all-time record. However, by 1986 the total is unlikely to be more than 107000 registrations, a drop of almost 70 per cent.
The figures for 1980 were in fact achieved as a result of the UK market being flooded with products. In their anxiety to retain market share, and to shift stock, vicious price cutting took place and additional dealers were appointed, sometimes literally next door to existing ones.
For the customer this may seem superficially attractive. A wide selection of bikes at a relatively cheap price and a choice of dealers to purchase from. But put yourself in the place of the trade. A dealer cannot stop selling bikes for long. He has bills to pay, he has wages to pay. If he decides to stand back from the price war and retain his profit margin as far as he is able then he needs extra financing. There simply comes a point when he needs to create cash flow or go bust. Not the biker's problem you may suggest but remember, the fewer dealers that exist to supply the requirements of the enthusiast then the more inconvenient life is for the enthusiast. There has to be a healthy compromise.
The real experience of suicidal trading, without sufficient profit, meant that dealers went bankrupt on a large scale. Frequent model changes added to those problems and shell-shocked customers saw their recently acquired new machines devalued, literally overnight.
Only when customer demand for inexpensive machines boosted the sale of used machines did the situation begin to improve. Dealers adapted to the demand and manufacturers saw their new sales reducing and began to cut model ranges and reduce dealer appointments. Now they are even admitting in public that dealers must make a profit in order to stay in business, to re-invest in new equipment and to provide a good service to customers. Admittedly, some dealers deserve to go to the wall.
They took customers for a ride and the whole trade suffered in the process. A few may still think that they can treat customers as second rate citizens, but most have learned important lessons. Satisfying customers is what any retail business is about. Retailers and dealers in any industry that fail to adhere to the maxim that the Customer Is King must have a limited future. Providing the customer with a fair deal is not merely a marketing gimmick, but these days the very means of staying in business.
Certainly as far as trade standards are concerned we are seeing a consistently improving situation in terms of both sales and service satisfaction from the legitimate motorcycle trade.
Many dealers are members of the Motor Agents Association/ Retailers Association (MAA/ MRA) which is of special interest to the customer since dealers are obliged to adhere to the Motorcycle Code of Practice. This lays down strict standards in respect of sales, servicing and repairs.
Customers who have a genuine complaint should first of all take the matter up with the management of the company they are dealing with. However, if that fails and the company is in membership of the MAA/MRA, then the customer has the option of invoking the assistance of the MAA Conciliation Service.
This organisation can be contacted at the following address:— MAA Conciliation Service, 73 Park St., Bristol BS1 5PS (tel. 0272 293232).
Remember, disgruntled customers who do not bother to complain to the right people only have themselves to blame. Standards can only be improved if the trade is in full possession of all of the facts. But on the credit side the situation is surely much better than the USED MOTORCYCLE GUIDE previously suggested. The motorcycle trade really is run by enthusiasts for enthusiasts. Certainly the trade has to make a profit otherwise it would not exist but fair dealing is the name of the game.
Finally, there are some things customers get up to which would make your hair curl. But that's another story...
Back in the sixties, those astute designers at Honda cleared a space on their drawing boards for a brand new vertical twin design that formed the basis of not just the CB450, but many of the later, smaller twins that in the mid-seventies seemed to be absolutely everywhere.
The basis of the 450 consisted of a 180° crankshaft supported on four huge main bearings, with an extremely short stroke, and a double overhead camshaft that, in many ways, has more high tech features than modern bikes.
Developing 43hp at 8500rpm, the engine could shoot all the way up to 10500rpm (this was 1965, chaps) and the head was supposed to be safe to twelve grand.
At these kinds of the revs valve springs would have dumped the large valves straight onto the pistons, so each valve had a torsion bar at right angles to the valve, operating through its own rocker to control the valve.
The camshafts operated via another set of rockers that sat on eccentric shafts to allow for (very small) valve clearances. Thus Honda produced a system with all the merits of Ducati's desmo head, without the inclination of separate camshaft lobes for tearing the valve apart. The Honda's valve clearances are also very simple to adjust because the eccentric shafts stick out of the side of the engine, and it's just a screw and locknut arrangement. Gear primary drive to a multi-plate clutch and a four speed box take care of the transmission.
In 1969 the engine had an extra two horses, a wider spread of power and a five speed box. The stroke of the engine was lengthened in the mid-seventies to produce the awful CB500T. This was slower, more vibratory and far less reliable than the older bikes.
The all alloy engine looked impressive in the same kind of way as those Gold Star engines (if I'm never heard of again you'll know that some enraged Gold Star owner has blown me away, although if his shotgun's as reliable as the BSA single then he'll probably do himself more damage). The engine was installed in a single downtube frame that had a passing resemblance to something BSA might have produced in the days when they led the world. This was made from heavy gauge mild steel - as were the mudguards, petrol tank and side panels.
The forks were typical period pieces of Jap technology. Undersprung and underdamped, they twist under heavy braking and bottom over large potholes. The shocks stop the rear wheel from rubbing agaist the mudguard, but nothing much else — unless the owner is exceedingly stupid they will have been replaced (god help us if classic collectors insist on keeping the original suspension on Jap bikes).
The engine gives the bike a fairly high centre of gravity, but the bike has a short wheelbase, which makes it quite easy to flick through the curves on decent tyres (Roadrunners are a good match). Using the steering damper induces a high speed weave, but a stock bike with Girling shocks and heavy oil in the forks is very stable, with no hint of a speed wobble, probably thanks to the heavy frame.
For a 450, the bike is quite heavy at 410lbs, but some compensation is found in the fact that the heavy cycle parts last forever and there's enough metal left to restore them.
The looks of the original model are sufficiently strange to assure it of a place In the classic hall of fame. I really like the hunchback three gallon petrol tank, the speedo/rev counter unit in the headlamp and the clean, uncluttered, functional lines of the machine. It's far enough away from the Jap flash stuff to have the lines of a British bike from a distance.
The main attribute of the Honda engine is that it produces enough power for 90mph cruising, averages 70mpg and has a quite remarkable reliability record. For sure, early engines could write off their camshafts if revved too harshly when cold and with fifty grand on the clock the small ends (con-rod material) will wear enough to let the pistons flap about, destroying the rings and seizing the engine. Between these two events, the engine needs hardly any maintenance except for oil changes at 750 miles.
Lacking anything as silly as balance shafts, the engine avoids destructive vibes by having the pistons moving out of phase with each other. This gives perfect primary balance but produces a torque reaction along the crankshaft. The firing pulses are uneven and some people don't like the resultant exhaust noise but I find it quite pleasant. Vibration is present, especially at low revs in low gears but it fades into the background after a few weeks use. it all depends what you like - if you need to know how the engine's working without constant reference to the rev counter then the Honda is just fine; if you prefer remote, electric smooth engines then look elsewhere.
In three years of ownership the only effect of the vibes was to loosen the rubber petrol pipe, blow one light bulb and help destroy a battery. Nothing fell off the engine or chassis. This is the kind of vibration most people can live with.
The most exceptional quality of the engine was economy. it was easy to average 75mpg and extremely unusual to obtain less than 70mpg. The lack of balance shafts, the highly efficient valvegear, the lack of emission and pollution controls, and the use of twin constant velocity carbs must have all helped to produce such economy. But it was still pretty exceptional to produce such efficiency straight off the drawing board - the UK industry could only approach it after decades of evolution.
The power produced between tickover and six grand was a product of mild low down grunt rather than the kick-you-in-the-pants-break-your-arms type of stuff. The Honda was quite happy to potter along on the minimum of throttle in fourth gear - indeed, at 30mph with the throttle just off the stop, the engine had enough torque to stomp up some very steep hills. Opening the throttle very slowly under such circumstances even produced some mild acceleration.
Above six grand the engine turned out rather more interesting power. In second or third - the bike would really take off, with some arm stretching power that was real good fun. The bike feels more exciting than a mid-seventies 550 four and can take a Yam X5650.
Acceleration from 60 to 90mph In third is where the bike really shines - and where most people do most of their riding. 90mph equates to 9000rpm in third and just under eight grand in fourth. It's easy to get the bike up to 105mph in fourth, getting the last 10mph on the clock is hard work as air resistance is hard to live with, but down on the tank on a long road gets the bike up to its true top speed of just under 110mph.
The stock footrest position is six inches too far forward for the fairly flat handlebars. The tank is high, the seat low, so the rider sits in rather than on the bike, giving a feel of security and one-ness with the machine. Because of the riding position the seat has to take too much of the rider's weight and it's only comfortable for journeys of less than 100 miles. This is a great pity because the large tank and good fuel economy means 200 miles can be covered without bothering with petrol stations.
One of the Honda's minor problems is the fuel filter used for the reserve setting on the petrol tap. Situated at the bottom of the petrol tank it quickly becomes clogged making it impossible to use the reserve setting. This means the tank has to be drained, the tap removed and the filter cleared, every four thousand miles.
Another problem occurs with the clutch that gets upset by riding too much in heavy traffic in town. It starts to drag, maklng neutral impossible to find, and needing use of the brakes to stop it from moving off at traffic lights. I'll always remember the face of a friend with whom I'd swapped a GS400 for an afternoon's ride. Used to the remote and civilised nature of the Suzuki, he looked' very harassed by the Honda's disinclinatlon to behave itself. The solution is to adjust the clutch at the handlebar end to obtain more leverage.
Where the Suzuki was always dangerously remote, the Honda always had enough feedback to inform the rider about the condition of the road. I was glad to get back to the Honda as I just couldn't take not knowing what the engine and tyres were up to.
Although rare on UK roads, I did once meet a fellow CB450 owner. He looked quite astonished when I mentioned how much I enjoyed cruising at 90mph and how you could really screw the thing in third. Apparently, he never went above seventy in deference to the bike's age and rareness. I couldn't help thinking what a waste of such a great engine. Still, takes all sorts...
The bike has TLS drum front brake and SLS rear. In about 15000 miles I never had to replace any brake pads (and god knows how many miles they had done before - there was eighteen grand on the clock when I bought it). The front brake was strong enough to twist the forks (OK, so they weren't too strong in the first place...) and knocked off the speed in a safe and predictable manner. Just think, no locked brakes in the wet, no wet weather delay and no strip downs. In three years the brakes were not touched except for infrequent adjustment at the handlebars to compensate for brake pad wear and cable stretch. The only draw back was that repeated stops from 90mph would eventually cause enough overheating to induce fade. But this was a small price to pay for the low running costs and superior performance in the wet.
The bike was ideally suited to fast country roads where it was light enough to throw around and the thing could be left in third, controlled on the throttle for most of the time - the engine made a delightful growl on the overrun.
The original exhaust fell apart when I was in Brighton - it was twelve years old, please note - a pair of Universal megaphones were purchased and eventually fitted outside the shop (I still have the burn marks). These units made the bike run very lean, under certain atmospheric conditions it was necessary to run with the carb mounted choke slightly on. Using such exhausts without modifying the carbs would eventually have terminal mechanical consequences.
Being a curious kind of chap, 1 once took the engine up to an indicated 12000rpm and can report that beyond ten grand the engine still produces plenty of power, vibration comes up to Tiger Cub levels and I got scared enough of an imminent mechanical explosion between my knees to back off pretty quickly. I only did this once, you understand, just to see if those rumours of the engine being safe to twelve grand were indeed true. As an engineer (of sorts) I would probably be banned from the Institute of Mechanical Engineers if this ever came to their attention, but as I never bothered to join, it probably doesn't matter, anyway. Still that such an old design could out rev later fours of the same size says plenty for the basic engine design and leaves one wondering just how good the older fours could have been if they had similar quality engineering.
My disinclination to replace a worn chain was rewarded with a sudden loss of forward power and a long, character building, walk home. The snapped chain bent the clutch pushrod, but didn't break through the crankcases - an event not entirely rare on old Honda twins — check for oil leaks around the drive chain sprocket. It took four weeks for a new pushrod to come from Honda.
Because the clutch pushrod seal is situated next to the chain sprocket it picks up all the road debris, wearing out after around 5000 miles. Fortunately, the old one can be pulled out with a screw driver and a new one fitted without splitting the engine. Engine maintenance was straightforward and infrequent except for regular oil changes.
The constant velocity carbs needed adjusting every 2 grand to keep them in balance - but this was just playing around with the stop and slow running screws. The one into two throttle cable isn't very clever and unless routed very carefully can have the engine ticking over at ten grand. The points need adjusting around ten grand, but they seem to last for ever. Camchain and valves need minimal attention.
A rear Roadrunner lasts for 10000 and a front for 13000 miles. The cheapest chain available goes for around ten grand. Rear brake pads last for ever, front go for at least twenty grand. That all combines to make the Honda exceptionally cheap to run while still being lots of fun to ride. Indeed, despite owning many much more modern bikes since selling the Honda some years ago, I haven't had as much fun riding a bike since getting rid of it. It was the kind of bike that encouraged you to take the longest possible route between destinations. Perhaps I was just younger then.
It was on one such occasion that things went seriously wrong. Rather than scoot across the Severn Bridge I decided to take the long route via Gloucester, using the twisty A46 where it meets Bath. The engine had been running so well and the sun was shining that it seemed like the only thing to do. Halfway between Bath and Gloucester there was a tinkling noise from the top end of the engine. I pulled over to the side of the road, but there wasn't much I could do to the engine, so I continued at a fairly slow rate. The bike survived until the other side of Gloucester when a sudden loss of power was accompanied by a dense cloud of blue smoke from the left hand exhaust.
A 225cc single cylinder CB450 has very little power but we struggled on towards Chepstow. Getting through Chepstow was hell because of the steep hill In Its centre. This just about finished off the engine, it was down to 20mph with fumes coming out of both exhausts. But it still hadn't failed. This happened five miles from Newport. Oll seemed to pour out of every joint and the blue clouds hung over the road as far as I could see.
Stripping down the engine revealed two holed pistons and scored bores and slightly scored small ends. A rebore plus new pistons and rings cost £50. As the con-rod material was the small end bearing surface, and the con-rods couldn't be detached from the crankshaft, they were not replaced - there wasn't any actual movement. The holed pistons were probably caused by the nonstandard silencers, so not Honda's fault.
The rest of the engine looked in perfect condition, no wear on the cams or in the gearbox. On tickover the rebuilt engine was almost silent, no clatter, no nasty noises.
The Black Bomber is one of Honda's best twins (if not the best, so far) and very, very practical.
There are two distinct and separate ways of looking at the RS250. The first sees it as an eminently usable device with plenty of power and delightful handling. The second view sees it as a good idea spoilt by poor detail design which makes it a very dubious secondhand buy.
Of course, the truth is that both views have equal validity. when it's running well the RS is a great bike to own, when the various faults rear their ugly head, it's a pain in the arse. That so many people are so loyal to the things, just goes to show how good they are when they are working properly.
The RS engine is one of those quirky designs that Honda so favoured in the late seventies and early eighties. It shares a lot in common with the 250 SuperDream. The major problem comes from Honda's old trick of having the bearing surface for the camshaft as part of the cylinder head. By twenty grand the surface is worn out. Good heads are hard to find in breakers, while some of the machining shops that fit sleeves in the head don't do a very good job.
Other problems come from camchain and tensioner at 18000 miles, piston and bore wear at twenty five grand, and balance shaft and chain wear at any time it feels like giving trouble.
For a single cylinder engine, the RS is very complex with too many valves, exhaust ports. balance shafts and quick wear chains. The result is an engine that is not very economical but can have a surprising turn of speed.
The bike averages 60mpg. The best that can be achieved is 80mpg, but this requires moped speeds, so isn't really relevant. Thrashing the bike along at maximum revs and illegal speeds gives just 50mpg.
Because the RS has a decent riding position, with well placed footrests, flat bars and usefully shaped tank, it can be cruised at up to 80mph. At such speeds the balance shaft doesn't do much to absorb the vibes and it becomes quite intrusive with a few thousand miles wear. It doesn't do much damage to chassis components. With just 300lbs to flick around the handling is jolly nice for most of the time.
The engine is used as a stressed member and helps give a rigid feel to the chassis. The shocks are the usual throw-away junk, the forks are OK when new but get floppy and imprecise after fifteen grand. There's plenty of feedback from the road to make wet weather riding pleasant.
The front disc is the usual rubbish. The calipers seize up on their sliders after eight grand, pads last for 7500 miles and stripping down the brake is about as much fun as selling used bikes in Cardiff. The rear SLS drum is nothing to write home about, with a disturbing tendency to lock up without warning. Rear tyres go for ten grand, front for twelve, chains last for around 10000 miles.
The RS seems to appeal to the same kind of people who buy MZ250s, who will probably be used to indulging in frequent maintenance and engine strip downs. The comparison with the MZ is also pertinent because both bikes have a nice feel out on the road and a great deal of versatility. The RS can be screwed along the motorway fast lane, hustled along country lanes with the best of them and rushed through town with the ease of a trail bike.
It's just a pity that there are so many mechanical problems to overcome to enjoy the Honda properly. It's possible to get hold of 1980 or '81 bikes for around £100, but they are going to be in quite a bad state, unless you're very lucky. Try to find a bike relatively free of vibration, as this is as good a guide to a decent bike as anything. Any engine noises should be viewed with grave suspicion.
If you don't know anything about engines, avoid this one.
The Z200 is probably the most underrated single on the market. Introduced in '78, it had little that was really new - Honda were selling a similar engine in the CB100/150 back in the late sixties. Luckily, what the Kawa did manage to incorporate was their maker's experience of making tough and efficient engines.
Kawasaki could have used the same techniques as they employed on their 400 and 750 twins, but they resisted the call of the complex to produce a commendably straightforward and simple engine. The short stroke engine (66x58mm) has a single camshaft, two valves, gear primary drive, a multi-plate clutch and five speed box. It knocks out 18hp at 8000rpm.
Screaming the bike through the gears, changing only when the speedo is past nine grand, eventually gets the speed up to a true 80mph. This is hard work, it's much easier to change up at around six grand, which will let the bike scoot along between sixty and seventy.
Used moderately the bike returns between 80 and 100mpg; thrashed it increases to 70mpg. Up to 60mph the vibes are not noticeable, the motor thrums a little at higher speeds, but it's no worst than the Honda RS250 (which has balance shafts) and way ahead of the Tiger Cub (which has tiny main bearings). The vibration doesn't cause cycle or engine parts to fall off and doesn't wreck the motor.
The engine is very tough with no particular faults. Alternators have been known to burn out at twenty grand, gear selectors can wear out at around thirty grand, cam lobes can be scored by the same mileage, carbs start leaking fuel at forty grand and most bikes need a complete rebuild by 45000 miles.
The motor does need regular oil changes every 1000 miles, but otherwise regular maintenance can be ignored without ill effect in typical Jap manner.
When new the Z200 handles well, with stiff frame and suspension. with twenty grand on the clock it loses most of its precision due to sloppy front forks and shot shocks. The 280lbs can still be flung about with relative ease, but the chassis can't take worn tyres and wanders all over the road on bumpy surfaces.
The ten inch front disc is typically appalling in wet weather (yawn, yawn) and doesn't really have that much more power than a good TLS drum. Pads go for 9000 miles, are quite easy to change, while the caliper needs attention every fifteen grand.
The SLS drum isn't particularly wonderful either, with a lack of feel and shoes that only last for 15000 miles. The paintwork lasts for about four years, after which a respray is needed. The chrome starts disappearing after three years. The silencer falls off after two and a half years, but a cheapo pattern item can be fitted without complaints from the carb. Rear tyres start interesting Mr Plod after twelve grand while fronts go for sixteen thousand miles.
When new the Z200 was too expensive to interest most punters, used prices were wrecked when the learner laws came into force, second-hand prices are interestingly low. The bike has none of the mechanical nastiness of the RS250, can be remarkably economical, even has a electric start and it looks quite neat in an understated way.
Those limited to just a hundred quid are limited to models built between '78 and '80. There are still some bikes around with less than 20000 miles on the clock, that have been used as very mild commuters, which still have loads of life left in them.
The 250 version lost its way somewhere along the design route, lacking any extra performance and having economy even worse than the RS250. Easily the best single of 250cc and under, the Z200 is a very cheap way of getting into the motorcycling game.
Like the Kawa Z200, the XS250 is a bit of a throwback to Honda's sixties designs, with a mere two valves per cylinder, single overhead cam and 180° crankshaft without any balance shafts, there's not really much difference between the basic design and any number of small Honda twins that were burning off much bigger bikes over twenty years ago. Unfortunately, the reputation for reliability and durability gained by those early Hondas is somewhat lacking in the Yamaha.
The XS knocked out 27hp but didn't have any low speed torque, needing to be screwed along at maximum revs to the detriment of engine longevity (as little as twelve grand).
Against hills, strong winds or when carrying a passenger, the bike could only move if screamed along in third or fourth gear lacking any point in the rev range where torque and power coincided to let the bike settle down into a relaxed gait.
Engine problems come from the carbs, crankshaft, valves and cylinder head. The carbs are difficult to keep in balance, give poor low speed running, are affected by rust from the petrol tank and don't work when pattern silencers or two into one exhausts are added.
The four bearing crankshaft is basically quite tough but does not survive neglect of oil changes, main bearings often needing replacement at twenty grand. Exhaust valves can burn out due to neglect and valve guides can fall out of the head.
The camshaft can become badly scored by twenty five grand and the bearings wear out quite soon after, but it's not as badly affected as the Honda CJ250. Engines that have been given lots of loving care and attention and not thrashed will last to around thirty grand when just about everything is worn out.
Handling when new was acceptable but nothing special. With a couple of years wear the shocks lost all their damping and the swinging arm bearings left enough free play to make Tiger Cub owners envious.
The bike was OK in town where the 375lbs could be flicked through traffic with relative ease, but bumpy country roads and worn suspension made it the least able of the Jap 250s. Even smooth motorways led to a mild weave above 70mph and only the very brave sped along at the top speed of 85mph.
Despite the need to scream the motor along at max revs, the XS returned 70mpg pretty much regardless of how it was treated. One of the advantages of a lack of balance shafts.
Vibration was never really a problem, although the motor was never as smooth as Suzuki's GSX, it was no worse than Honda's SuperDream. The motor could always be felt but didn't do any damage. Cycle parts were not of very high quality, with disappearing paintwork and peeling chrome after only a couple of years.
The exhausts disintegrate after just 18 months and have to be replaced with stock items. The chrome on the front forks becomes pitted, ruins the seals and loses the damping with fairly obvious consequences for directional stability. The engine casings quickly lose their shine and turn the cheapo alloy a dull shade of white.
Because most of the XS's problems are fairly obvious it's not such a bad buy as might at first be feared. Engines that have a quiet top end and don't make any obvious noises and have a good gearchange are probably going to be OK. Make sure that there's no low speed hesitation from the carbs.
Bikes that look good have probably been well looked after, it's one of those bikes where condition is reflected by the mileage and it's hard to tart a high mileage bike up. Bikes built between '78 and '80 are the most likely ones to be available for under £100.
The CJ was an update on the curiously named CB250G5, which between 1974 and '76 had taken Honda's reputation for building reliable twins to an all time low. The CJ was not very different in basic engine and chassis design. It used the same OHC, vertical twin engine that could trace its history back to the early sixties. The CJ lost an electric start and had several minor internal mods to the engine in search of removing the older bike's penchant for writing off the cylinder head when camshaft bearing surfaces wore out due to lubrication problems.
The CJ was devoid of pinstripes and go-faster stickers, it looked quite neat, much better than the rather gaudy GB. Although not the most reliable device in the world, the CJ can keep running for much longer than the older bike, averaging thirty grand before it needs a major rebuild, although neglect of the 1000 mile oil changes will write off the cylinder head in about twelve thousand miles.
Valve clearances and ignition timing need only infrequent attention (5000 miles). Carbs need balancing every 2500 miles. All this is very straightforward, needs no special tools and makes Brit bikes look complicated.
The engine has gear primary drive, a multi-plate clutch that gives no trouble and a clunky gearbox that becomes more vague with age. Part of the improvement in reliability probably occurs because the engine was de-tuned from 27 to 26hp, knocking 5mph off the top speed, but improving economy.
To get the CJ up to its top speed of 85mph the bike has to be screwed through the gears, resulting in some unpleasant vibration and harsh noise from the top end. The bike is happier between 60 and 75mph when there's plenty of torque and the bike runs along just off the throttle stop.
Economy under mild use comes out at 70mpg, when thrashed it can drop to 55mpg and the bike averages 65mpg. That's not bad going by Honda 250 standards.
The 350lbs can be chucked through traffic with no problems. On typically worn suspension it gets a bit tied up in knots on fast country roads and goes into a gentle weave above 75mph on motorways. But it's nothing too vicious and fairly easy to keep in line.
Girling or Koni rear shocks combined with stronger springs and heavier oil in the forks give a dramatic improvement over the stock bike. On worn tyres the bike turns into a vicious, nasty, remote bastard in the wet.
Rear tyres last for 120 miles, front tyres. go for 15000 miles, chains last for ten grand and front disc pads for eight thousand miles. The disc brake actually works reasonably well in the wet although it does need to be stripped down every 15000 miles to avoid a seized caliper. The SLS rear drum works well and has enough feel to avoid locking the rear wheel.
In the long line of Honda 250 twins the CJ falls somewhere in the middle. Not so fast or usable as the later SuperDreams (but just as long lived), it's better than the G5 on reliability, looks and handling and equal to the CB250K3/4 (but much slower than the K1 or K2) on speed and handling but not so durable.
Problems come from cylinder head wear, camchain and tensioner demise, small ends and the gearbox. All these make fairly obvious noises. Bore wear can be checked by examining the engine breather for blue fumes - it's hidden behind the engine under the airbox.
The CJ is quite a pleasant bike to own and ride, although it has no real strong points, nothing that's going to fuel dreams of greatness, it's competent and adequate. Built between '76 and '77, possible engine problems means it's silly to pay more than a hundred quid for one.
Back in '74 Benelli were trying to grab a share of the lucrative 250 market with a quite neat two stroke twin. The engine design was similar to the Yam or Suzuki 250 twin, with two important differences. The Benelli engine looked far better but it didn't have direct oil injection.
It was back to the good old days of Bantams and Francis Barnetts, with the oil mixed in with the petrol. This hit and miss lubrication led to either large quantities of blue smoke out of the exhaust or an overheated engine that was prone to seizing, depending on just how much oil was thrown in the petrol tank.
Despite the primitive lubrication, the engine produced enough power to get the bike up to a fairly credible 90mph, at a time when a lot of its more sophisticated rivals were hard pressed to get past 80mph. There was even some power at the bottom end of the rev range, although below two and a half grand the engine tended to stall. A little higher up the rev range the bike could potter along between 50 and 70mph without any problems.
Past seven grand the motor really took off and was almost as vicious as an early Kawa 250. Fortunately, it showed none of the handling nastiness of the Kawa triple. The bike had stiff suspension when new, that keeps its precision over the years. Coupled with a rigid frame, the Benelli leads the 250 pack, having more feedback than the SuperDream, although it's not so pleasant over bumpy roads.
Until 1979 a TLS drum took care of the braking with plenty of feel and enough power to make some Jap discs look silly. Front shoes go for 14000 miles, while rear SLS shoes last for around 20000 miles. The later disc brake was also quite useful and even worked well in the wet. Pads lasted for 7500 miles.
Overall, the Benelli had a sharp feel that would have made it class leader if it were not for mechanical and electrical problems.
The electrics suffered from junk switches, dodgy wiring and alternators that like to burn out. The solution is to throw away the stock wires, switches and rectifiers, using better quality stuff from the breakers. Most used bikes should have been modified by now. The indicators either fall off or stop working, the lights would shame a pushbike and the horn is dangerously inadequate. with renovated electrics the alternator stops burning out.
The engine can last for 25000 miles when it needs a rebore and new crankshaft. Engines can expire much earlier if they are thrashed and ignltlon timing is neglected. Clutches are a little dodgy, start slipping or fall apart - but they make a nasty ringing noise just before they expire, so it's easy to check out. Rear tyres last for 12000 miles, front tyres go for 16000 miles. Chains last quite well at fifteen grand for the cheapest variety.
The classic looks can disappear after a couple of years when the paint and chrome decide to leave without permission. Exhausts last for four to five years, there are no expansion chambers available and few tuning goodies. Economy can be quite good, with 60mpg available without very much right hand restraint. Really screwing the bike along will lower that figure to 40mpg.
Spares are rare and more expensive than Jap stuff. The best bet is to try to find a non-runner as a cheap source of spares. There was even a Moto Guzzi version but this was very rare and costs a little more.
Expect to pay between £25 and £50 for a nonrunner, and up to £100 for something that runs reasonably well. Really good bikes are now very rare, they were mostly ridden into the ground and chucked away.
The Benelli has great potential as a cheapo hack - it has a decent chassis. good looks and a powerful motor. It's just a matter of taking care of its two-stroke habits.
The GT250 was the ultimate development of Suzuki's need to turn out two strokes that acted as if they were four strokes.
The 180° crank twin could trace its history back to the late sixties in T200/250 form. The GT750 had its power reduced to a mere 27hp by emission regulations. It needed all its revs to make the bike fly, but even thrashed it could only manage 85mph, little better than more durable and economical rival four stroke twins.
Furthermore, the engine had a nasty habit of chewing up the needle roller small end bearings, which end up circulating around the engine, taking out the crankshaft on the way. The crankshaft is a built up job that has to be traded in for a new one, expect between twenty and thirty grand before it needs replacing.
Something called Ram Air Cooling adorned the cylinder head. This was a finned aluminium plate that was supposed to direct air onto the head, but why it was needed when the more powerful T250 survived without it, escapes rational explanation.
The engine does benefit from Suzuki's direct oil injection, but it's not as accurate as the GT500's and the 250 is usually followed by a cloud of blue smoke. As with the 500, the oil pump gears can strip, engine bolts can snap and cyllnder head bolts can strip their threads. But these are fairly rare events.
Handling was typical of mid-seventies Jap technology with poorly damped suspension and far from rigid frame. The real fun starts when the swinging arm bearings wear and the bikes goes into some vicious speed wobbles above 75mph.
The front disc is just as cheap and nasty as the rolling chassis. Lacking. power, precision and feedback it's bad enough in the dry; wet weather leaves the bike at the mercy of whatever gods happen to be in the vicinity.
Lurid rear wheel slides due to the weak swinging arm and lack of feedback are combined with heart stopping sudden applications of the front disc when the water finally clears off the disc. The bike is only saved by the lack of a violent powerband and a slick gearbox that holds no nasty surprises.
Fuel varies between 35mpg (run along on a wide open throttle) and 60mpg (riding with the throttle just off the stop), averaging out at 45mpg. Rear tyres last for about ten grand, front for twelve and a half.
Chains go for about ten grand, although most owners seem to keep on riding with worn out jobs, so it'll probably need a new set of; sprockets. Front disc pad lasts for eight grand - cheaper pattern pads work no better or worst than stock items. The SLS drum's shoes go for around fourteen thousand miles.
To find one of these bikes in really good condition is going to be very difficult. Most of them were owned as first bikes by learners and got rather thrashed and neglected. The engine's quite easy to strip down and there are loads of cheap parts available from breakers. There are also many tuning goodies, but these make the engine even less reliable, and the extra speed takes the handling down to Kawasaki triple level.
The final '78 model had better suspension, a better paint job (but still looked very bland because of the slab sided tank) and an even less powerful motor that couldn't get the bike past 80mph. The new X7 that replaced the GT reintroduced the fast kicks of the T250 but was even more fragile.
With a dubious engine and poor chassis the GT250 has very little to offer on the used market where there are just so many old 250s vying for the attention of poverty stricken punters. The only thing the bike has going for it is cheapness. It's possible to pick up a non-runner for as little as £25 and something that has an engine which makes the appropriate noises for just fifty quid.
