Triumph Daytona 500

I really would like to say that I've gone around the clock a couple of times on my late sixties Triumph Daytona but, alas, I can't, even though I've owned it for over nineteen years. In that time I've barely managed 35000 miles. Quite often the bike has spent months slung to the back of the garage when I've grown tired of it and an alternative, usually of cursed Japanese manufacture, has been available. However, the fact that I've resisted the temptation to cash in on the classic boom and throw the heap out of my life for good, does indicate that it has a certain amount of charm.

The engine type is well known to any British bike fan, and arguably one of the better motors around. An OHV unit construction vertical twin displacing 500cc, it produces enough power to put 105mph on the speedo. Unlike the 500 Tiger, the cooking version, it features twin carbs, high compression pistons and wilder camshafts. It will rev to around 8000rpm, but anything beyond 5000 revs highlights the bane of British vertical twins, finger numbing, toe flexing, chassis shaking vibration. It is not as bad as the bigger twins, some of which are real bone shakers, but most of the Daytona's problems stem from this malady.

The good news is that at 360lb it's as light and compact as most Japanese 250 twins. The suspension is OK, even at this age. There wasn't very much damping to begin with but the springs were stiff and suspension movement limited to little more than a couple of inches, so it didn’t need much to start with.

The lack of suspension and narrow engine allow the motor to sit low in the tubular frame, which in turns enables the Triumph to have steering geometry set up for straight line stability without inhibiting chuckability. The poor condition of modern roads does show up the antiquity of its suspension, rides often become spine jarring, bike juddering outings only of interest to masochists. It’s at its best on smooth, snaking A-roads where the motor can be buzzed along in fourth gear. Town riding is also OK where its reasonable power to weight ratio allows the bike to see off many a modern motorcycle and pisses off GTi maniacs.

The narrowness of the engine allows the bike to pass through tiny gaps. On bumpy B-roads and motorways the bike is out of its element, on the former the suspension just can't cope, on the latter the need to do at least 90mph to avoid being mowed down puts the engine right into the worst rev band for production of vibes.

Sustained high speed destroys electrical components, footrests fall off, petrol tanks and mudguards crack and I even had an oil tank burst open (despite its rubber mounts), laying down an oil slick that had the back wheel slipping and sliding across two lanes of motorway. You learn from bitter experience which bolts frequently come undone. Even Loctite and wiring them in position doesn't stop them all loosening off! The practical top speed for cruising is thus limited by the vibes to around 75mph, with only a brief run up to 95mph allowed.

High speed handling, if you can take the vibes and have the money to pay for frequent engine rebuilds, is better than most Japs of the seventies and early eighties. A bit of a weave on some 90mph bends but the bike is so light that it's always easy to keep her on the appropriate line. It's not like some Jap 400 twins which are stable but totally remote from the road, on the Triumph you’re always aware of what the tyres are doing and the churning over of the engine. Those vibes are the only real thing that discourages fast and frantic riding.

You wouldn’t believe the problems I've had with the primary chains. They only seem to last 5000 miles and need tensioning every 500 miles. The solution is obvious, stick in a modern O-ring chain, which would also solve the perennial primary chaincase oil leaks, but I've yet to find one with the right width and pitch to match the British sprockets. Belts are also available, but they seem to have a poor reputation for longevity and are very expensive to buy.

Other engine problems have mostly resulted from the ancient design of the plunger oil pump which seized up at 11250 miles, wrecking most of the engine in the process. I didn't replace all the bits I should have at the time, allowing slightly scored timing gear bearings and small ends to remain inside the engine. Predictably, they wore out rapidly, calling for yet another rebuild. Even new pushrods don't last much beyond 10000 miles, whilst the tappets and contact breakers are an even greater laugh... until you have to take out a bank loan to pay for replacements. Triumph spares are not yet as expensive as Japanese stuff, put prices keep rising well ahead of inflation and some of the pattern bits are dangerous crap.

To be fair to the old girl, I have ridden a Daytona that had a proper engine rebuild - better bearings, dynamically balanced crankshaft and internals polished to a mirror finish, amongst other alterations - and it was much smoother than my old heap, but the owner had to pay out over a grand just to get the engine perfect. I can't afford that kind of outlay, it's more than I originally paid for the bike!

I've also done a couple of European tours, up to 2000 miles in a week, and she ran without giving any trouble and attracted a lot of attention from locals who could not believe that anything so old could get so far from home. I can also console myself with the thought that I get over 15000 miles from a set of Avons and a cheapo chain. The sprockets and brake shoes are still original! Admittedly, the TLS front drum ain't up to the standard of modern discs but as I try to ride in a smooth way that avoids the need to frantically slam on the brakes every few minutes, I don’t really find this a problem. Another item, the exhaust system, would surprise owners of Japanese bikes, for it's still original. Admittedly, the downpipes are more rust than chrome but the silencers still polish up well and give out a fairly subdued meaty roar that wakes up sleeping car drivers in town.

The rest of the chassis looks well tatty, the original paint worn to a nice patina and hastily patched up where the paint has worn off or the bike scratched in a fall. Accidents have, happily, been rare. I've fallen off twice on greasy roads, mostly down to worn tyres and not paying attention. I also hit the side of a car once, but got away with having the front wheel rebuilt and the forks straightened. The chassis is generally tough and can be straightened out by the application of a bit of brute force.

Modifications have mostly been down to rubber mounting whatever can be detached and reassembled with some extra rubber between it and the chassis. We found the stock riding position perfect for the relaxed riding style forced on me by the bike's characteristics, so no change there. Oh, the stock seat fell apart and was replaced by a wonderfully comfortable K&Q item; I couldn't live without it now.

Most of the electrical system has been upgraded with more modern components - I didn't have all that much choice as after a spate of blowing bulbs, the rectifier caught fire and l was lucky the whole machine was not engulfed in flames. Since then, the electrical side has been surprisingly reliable with only the odd blown bulb causing concern. Unfortunately, batteries rarely last more than a year despite rubber mounting, the vibes are just too fierce for their tender plates. At least the bike will run with a nearly dead battery unlike some Japanese bikes I've owned.

I am not so stupid as to claim that the Triumph is the best bike in the world, or even just the best vertical twin. l‘ve ridden and abused too many Japs to know I could get away with that in the cynical pages of the UMG.

So how has it managed to charm its way into my affections? I don't really know, probably down to the fact that it was my first big motorcycle at a time when motorcycling was still a big adventure for me. Just looking at it parked in the garage conjures up all kinds of fond memories... it was even the first bike I took a woman on the back of. 

Danny Clarke

Suzuki GSX550

The GSX550 had suffered a traumatic lifestyle. Its previous owner having been a bit of a despatching nutcase. Rear tyres were bald in 3000 miles, chains snapped on a regular basis and plastic bodywork cracked, scarred and tore whenever he felt the urge to fall off.

Its most ferocious fling took place at 90mph when the successful negotiation of a band was not viable and a swift detour into a ditch the result. This bent the forks beyond recognition and tore apart the steering head assembly. The relevant parts were replaced so that only the scratch on the owner's Boeri which had butted mother earth at an inordinate speed lay testimony to the event actually taking place.

I therefore bought the matt black hound in a fair to middling level of lack of roadworthiness. There were only two out of a possible four bolts clamping the front wheel spindle to the forks, oil leaked out of the sump plug, the crankshaft was, and still is, visibly in motion at a frantic pace due to the pick-up cover's absence.

The front master cylinder was off a GS650 and flexed when the brakes applied, whilst fluent riding is marred by second gear jumping out and third gear being a neutral - a common trait amongst high mileage GSX550s. This was made worse by tight spots in a worn chain. It is therefore totally infuriating to ride and I want to buy a new engine, but finding an honest breaker is a big problem.

Good tyres on the GSX are absolutely essential if you value both the bike’s and your own anatomy. This is because the bike forces the helpless rider to race everywhere, treating every roundabout as an opportunity to fry the tyre edges to shreds. Avon Roadrunner AM20/21s come with recommendations, as they not only keep the bike upright but also give a continuous progress report upon how far you can lean the damn thing over.

The majority of power is produced above 7000rpm but it will take less revs to slide the back end when accelerating hard in first whilst banked over on bumpy country roads. We even developed a tyre fetish and can be seen racing around Mallory park paddock examining everyone's rubber to see how much bottle they have.

It’s now got a Metz on the rear after the old one was illegal, deformed and deflating at a disconcerting rate. A burn out and doughnut session contributed to its final demise and the constant prospect of losing the back end when accelerating hard on bends due to the 18psi tyre pressure was curtailed.

The fuel consumption varies between 32 and 65mpg, depending on acceleration and speed. At 85mph it does 45mpg, at 100mph around 35mpg, 52mpg at 70mph and 65mpg at 55mph. However it's impossible to ride at the latter’s snail's pace for any distance without a dangerous boredom factor occurring, unless it's foggy, snowing, you're running out of gas or trying to attain the impossible with a girlfriend.

For some time, two cylinders have cut out erratically due to the dirt and muck in the carbs. This naturally occurred at the most inconvenient times such as when overtaking or going round complicated roundabouts.

A trip up to Northampton stretched the chain sufficiently for it to jump off the sprockets, producing a long and lurid slide, a missing chain and a five mile push home. It's after this sort of disaster that I manage to summon up the motivation to actually do some mechanical investigation and solve the problem - the bike gets wheeled into the flat and some heavy metal music accompanies the spanner wielding.

Usually, the landlord makes a surprise appearance, his superficial smile of greeting rapidly replaced by abject horror and a tirade of abuse plus a reminder of how five gallons of fuel is just waiting for the right moment to wipe out the whole tenement. The GSX had always had bad luck in Leicester, the previous owner was banned for six months after being caught without insurance. l was working there for four days with a mate on a Suzi GT750 (bloody bland, according to the Ed), cruising around wearing suits. We wandered into the centre on a Saturday night, brain fried from lack of sleep and were attacked by the savage one way system.

I pulled out without looking, after nearly entering a no entry street when a scream of skidding tyres revealed a Sierra which was on collision course but managed to grind to a halt a mere six inches away. 

”I could have taken your fucking legs off you stupid cunt. All you bikers are the same, think you’re fucking super heroes.” The driver was looking for a fight but we were too tired to oblige so we all went into a Burger King where I had to listen to a diatribe as to why he could never consider slinging a leg over a bike, let alone ride one of the damn things. Finally we got shot of his harassment only to have a plod mobile follow us home and even cruise past our temporary abode a few times.

Compared with the GT750 the GSX could out brake, accelerate, handle and speed it. as well as being a good 10-15mpg better on fuel. However, the GT is far more pleasant to look at, has more character and street cred, plus it's a more comfortable high speed cruiser, as well as a sound investment.

On a road such as the A416 from Matlock to Alfreton the 550 was in its element, rocketing around all the bends, chewing rubber like a ravenous Tasmanian devil. The GT, however, would bounce off line and scare the shit out of the rider if the line had to be altered mid bend to avoid dissecting a car. On a weekend mission to St. David's in Wales, I began to understand that the amazing roads were the root cause of perhaps some of the Ed's more obscure eccentricities revealed in his ramblings.

Some of the roads were absolutely phenomenal and this was before the magic mushroom season. The B5421 from Ross to Abergavenny was bliss. The first glimpse of culture shock hit at the backward garage which was like something out of the thirties. The riding pace jumped in tune to the knackered chain and we nearly ran out of road on a blind left just escaping the edge of the ditch on the wrong side of the road.

Slightly after this heart palpitation, l vaguely remember an insect fly down my leather jacket and sink its proboscis in at 70mph. The ensuing chest cramp prompted a frantic beating of my jacket to stop the kamikaze pilot from reeking internal injury. The chain was making more noise than the engine and causing earth shuddering vibes, plus a detour to M & P in Swansea.

The handling is often criticised for being twitchy due to the 16" front wheel, but I find it more stable and controlled than RS250s and quicker steering than the Z650, XJ550, GT750 and BSA A10. The frame must be very good, as despite all the crashes, it still banks over without trauma at ton plus speeds on fast sweepers. ln fact, the faster you go the more confidence inspiring it becomes and in bends it's a pure joy. Having said that, doing something silly like taking both hands off the bars at any speed develops a huge tankslapper!

The engine is a 16 valve four with tappets that need adjusting every 3000 miles. The 4-1 exhaust annoyingly obscures the sump plug so has to be removed every 1500 miles at the cost of exhaust gaskets and patience. It's done 70000 miles, cost me £375 and still struggles up to 120mph, two up, if it's in the mood and the chain isn't messing around. There's ample torque below 6000rpm to keep ahead of most of the traffic but always sounds frantic and urges you to thrash it faster. The addition of a passenger turns it into a slug and requires downchanges for overtaking.

Engine vibes are quite prominent at this mileage but no smoke pours out of the exhaust and bits don't fall off. The alternator is a very tight fit and tricky and expensive to rewind. It is worth putting a fuse between alternator and rectifier to stop the latter burning out, which has happened twice on mine. The first replaced with a secondhand Suzi unit and the second with a rewired Superdream item which hasn't worked successfully as the battery burns off electrolyte all too often.

The brakes have aged quite considerably since 1983. The back disc has always behaved disgracefully. At the moment it squeals so much that it sounds like feedback on a PA. If an emergency stop is in progress and the front brake is squeezing the discs enough to boil the fluid then merely dabbing the back will send it slewing to one side in full lock up mode. It's much better to keep it for special occasions like Christmas and Easter, or use it in foreign countries where the road surface is so bad that using the front stoppers will have you off. It works OK on its own but requires a lot of time and patience to bleed and clean.

Sometimes the front brake can squeal the front tyre and at others they'll struggle to clean the dust off the discs - temperamental bastards. Mine has got a GS650 master cylinder and seven year old hoses but still hauls the bike up promptly enough. Pads cost £12 a pair and seals about £3 each. When I cleaned the calipers there was a black sludge inside and a veneer of corrosion that could not easily be removed with wet and dry. I pretended the black indentation didn't exist as they're too expensive to throw in the bin and replace.

The Stockiemuir Road near Glasgow was made famous in issue 4 for its jumps, pub, scenery and high death toll for those who ride too drunk or beyond their abilities. Living in Glasgow, I often found it necessary to escape from the day to day anxieties and aggro by going for burn ups along this nice race track that passes for a road. The GSX had always been very happy leaping around the tarmac until I shoved it into the powerband in 4th just before the first hillock where you lose sight of the oncoming road.

That was the closest I've come to completely totalling the bike. At about 85mph the front wheel took off and literally leapt up into the air as the still accelerating back wheel dropped with the road. The handlebars waggled from side to side and my view of the upper atmosphere gave me a sufficient adrenalin overdose to offer a prayer book of hymns in the blink of an eye for it to return to mother earth. In this situation it is always much better to carry on at an horrendous pace than to stop and have a nervous breakdown on the verge. It is definitely for good reason that so many people have died on this road to hell.

A Highland tour in the company of a Guzzi 1000 was marred by the bike being relocated on the night that Scotland beat Costa Rica in the world cup. The previous evening we'd ridden up to Lancaster on the tedious M6, repeatedly leapfrogging to relieve the tedium. I had fallen in a cowpat underneath the GSX in a remote Lancashire lane when on a campsite recon and then been woken up by cows eating the tent at 4am in the morning - a good lesson to avoid camping out in the dark.

The Highland roads are phenomenal when dry but treacherous when wet - the prospect of flying over a hedge and laying in a cow field with a compound fracture in an arm and leg out of view of the road until the blood supply expires does not appeal.

Most riders intensely dislike the rain but when you get as much as you do in a wet and slimy autumnal Glasgow you begin to appreciate the virtuous ability to wheelspin and slide the back tyre in a controlled drift when exiting junctions. Doing a U-turn in a tight street is much easier by using an excess of revs and doughnutting the back round than struggling with the mass. I let a girlfriend loose on it in the summer only for it to collapse on her leg when it overbalanced leading to a 4am sortie to the hospital.

The bike copes with long journeys quite well. Oxford to Glasgow takes about six hours at a steady 85mph apart from when stuck behind the traffic slowing plod mobiles. Comfort is increased by a duvet on the tank and feet on the pillion's pegs. Sometimes it's better to leave the headphones at home as the music makes you all too conscious of the time. It's much better to veg out and detach oneself from reality. The next long distance sortie will be to Barcelona in March, which will really test the bike's reliability and my inability to drive on the wrong side of the road. 

In short, the GSX is like most middleweights, a very practical and enjoyable means of transport. Naturally, there are other bikes I'd prefer, a Z1300 or old style GSX1100 are high up on the shopping list. If one of these was bought it would undergo weight saving surgery just leaving a huge engine, petrol tank and a couple of wheels - forget the exhaust.

The GSX's low cost permits constant facelifts - matt black, camouflage with netting, gloss black and fluorescent green - which would not be viable on a new bike. It is spoilt by rapid chain wear and rectifier demise but that fairing does aid high speed comfort. I preferred my old XJ550!

I would not buy another one as in a way it’s a bit of a plastic missile but at least the plastic supports the bike when sliding up the road. The success of the continental trip will determine whether I fall in love with it or loathe and despise it forever and a day.

Bruce Jones

Honda GL1100 Goldwing

While thawing out in the Little Chef, halfway to Scarborough. we had come to the conclusion that although our bike. a GS850. was a good motorcycle it was tiring two up with no fairing and poor aftermarket seat... after much discussion we decided to go the whole way and buy a Gold Wing. I had a mate who owned a GL1100 Aspencade, and after a test ride I was hooked.

First impressions were that it was unnaturally smooth and her on the back was in seventh heaven because as well as the comfy seat she had a “proper backrest and plenty of space to move about. I counted the days until my money came through from the sale of my house. and with a polished open face helmet and new shades l went to his house to pick it up. After a guided tour around the bike, which took about an hour, I was ready to pose!

The GL1100 is a bit of evolution from the original Gold Wing, sharing such niceties as a fuel tank hidden under the seat, belt driven OHCs, a mere two valves per cylinder and imposing looks that you either love or run a mile from. Next day I did a full service, which is pretty easy for a bike as apparently complex as a Goldwing. The flat four engine allows easy access to the plugs and tappets (screw and locknut). The dummy fuel tank lifts open to reveal the compressor for the front and rear suspension which is adjustable on the dash board via rocker switches, whilst the temperature gauge doubles as a pressure gauge.

There is a gear indicator for the four speed box, plus overdrive and a trip computer with a countdown facility. Self cancelling indicators are controlled by vehicle speed and angle of lean. The whole dash board on the Aspencades is digital and takes some getting used to - a way to impress pillions is to switch the speedo to kilometres...

The headlamp was reasonable, although l expected better... the brakes are worrying at first because the rear brake pedal also operates one front disc and the forks have anti-dive that stops most of the dipping motion that such supple suspension would normally allow under heavy braking. Handling is very good for a bike weighing 640lbs, especially two up with the suspension on its hardest settings.

Most people are surprised by how light the machine feels once under motion. You can run along feet up at walking pace and because most of the weight is concentrated down low thanks to the engine layout. it is not in the least bit intimidating. However, low speed grunt is not all that apparent - my CX had more go at low revs, which is strange as the motor is by no means highly tuned.

Once on the open road you can cruise all day at illegal speeds and at 70mph it's just getting into its stride. When going to Wing Dings (club events) I normally take a trailer and you just don't know it’s there, except you can only do 60mph by law. The only discomfort over a long journey in hot weather is the amount of engine heat thrown up. At first, l thought it was overheating but it's a common problem. The fairing does a superb job of keeping the weather off you and I can hear the stereo no problem on the motorway, as can the pillion.

Fuel consumption hovers around 40mpg (it runs on to reserve after about 160 miles), oil consumption is minimal between changes and the shaft drive means chain wear is a thing of the past. The latter, by the way, confounds all the sceptics by not upsetting handling in bends if the throttle is backed off. Tyre life is, er, interesting. Some Wings have knocked up six figures so high mileage need not put you off buying one. the easiest way of sussing an engine about to die being an excess of vibes (ride a few examples to get an idea of what they should be like).

lt is surprising how tough these bikes are, we were knocked off our Gold Wing, after we got it back up (note the we) the rear crash bar was pushed into the rear pannier but it did not split because it's plastic. After removing it, it slowly went back into shape and the lid is still a tight fit. The panniers obscure access to the rear wheel but the plastic can be removed by undoing three bolts. Half an hour has it lovely and clean because there's so much plastic that shines up with just a sponge.

The extras you can buy for a Wing are limitless. from simple things like a drinks holder, chrome everything, taller screens to the extreme, like radar detectors, electric stands, ride off stands and a fridge that fits into a pannier and holds a six pack.

If you have a Gold Wing and you are not in the owners club. you don’t know what you are missing. I thought it would be for rich middle-aged people who ride two miles and polish the bike. but that could not be further from the truth. The majority are really ace people who just love Gold Wings. l have made so many friends that the club life is more fun than the bike.

Back in August we had the International Treffen (the event of the year for Wings) and we had a parade of nations and rode into Basingstoke with full police escort, the mayor and his wife on the back of Wings; over 600 Wings full of chrome, lights, music, sidecars, trailers, more lights and chrome; a sight I will never forget.

If you are thinking about buying one. shop around because some dealers will let them go cheap because they are not as sought after as your regular run of the mill superbike. but the opposite also applies and you do get them way overpriced. So, to sum up, if you want long distance two up comfort and to look at yourself in shop windows you can't go far wrong with a Wing. One warning, if you get the accessories bug take out a good loan. It's so addictive you can’t stop buying.

Eddie Quayle

Hackin': £500 Hacks

If you say it quickly, £500 doesn’t sound much. If you’re skint and on the dole, it's a different matter. But I decided I wanted another bike, as the amount of ale and such like I was getting through as a result of being bored shitless would pay for the running costs of a half decent machine.

Just one hassle, at the time I didn't even have 50p, let alone half a grand. A problem. A glance at a record collecting rag gave me a bit of a shock -some early singles that I had purchased in a junk shop for around 15p were worth rather more than that. In one case, £120. Various other odds and sods were put up for sale, and with a load of UMGs to read, I took a look at what I could pick up for the dosh.

As well as costing around 500 notes, preferably less, the bike had to fill certain other criteria. It had to be able to cruise at the legal limit, two up. So, a minimum of 250cc, as much for physical comfort, as power. Reasonably reliable and cheap running costs were also high on the agenda, so it had to be a common model with loads in the breakers.

Brits were out of the picture, as was most Wop stuff. A doggy V50 was thought about and nearly as quickly forgotten. Due to unhappy experiences in the past, anything with a CZ or Jawa badge was dismissed. Unless a Jawa Rotax 500 turns up. Cossacks and Urals... well, despite the appeal of something I could sling the dog in, the chair didn't inspire and you hardly ever see them solo. Other Europeans? The BMW R45 and R65 were at the top of my price range but not often seen. I just don't like MZs, whatever their virtues.

That leaves loads of Japs. The Honda RS250 appeals but not many good 'uns left now and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a CBX250RS. Having owned and ridden several Honda 250 twins I didn’t fancy another. VT250s are too complex for my liking. If a very clean CJ360 turns up I might be tempted. A bit more capacity brings us to the famed CB400/4 and 400 Supersnooze. I've owned both and I’d mark them for further consideration. The spurious classic label on the four leads to inflated prices and despite reasonable speed and handling, the CB400N bored me to tears when I had one. I also recall the pillion space as being a little limited.

Having spent some of the summer hacking around on a CB500T that had much of the excess weight stripped off, both that and its predecessor, the famed (and much beloved of the editor) Black Bomber CB450 will bear inspection. Sticking with 500s, the CX is worth a look, even if it has the sort of looks that could only appeal to a sex crazed warthog on acid. Most were despatched to destruction.

Diverting to the fours, 500/4s are a bit thin on the ground, but there are still plenty of CB550Fs about for less than £500. The CBX550 would have been considered but in this price range would normally be a dog. SOHC 750s can also be picked up in this area and having had a '76 F1 model a few years back, I quite like them, even if the amount of consumables they get through is a bit fierce.

The DOHC CB750/900s have an appetite for tyres, chains, etc and any Honda with two camchains has to be regarded with a certain amount of suspicion. Dog CBXs and Gold WIngs are supposedly about for less than a grand in private deals, but running and restoration costs leave them out of the picture. I had tried a new CB650 when they came out and was not impressed, so that was out.

Both my Kawasaki Z400 and 650 took enormous mileage and neglect without a whimper. Not so the Z250 and GPz305 which have suspect top ends. The Z440 is tougher than the 400 twin but a bit boring. The 400/4 is cheap to buy and run but very peaky, not the most practical tool for my requirements. Z500, 550 and GPz550s are just about in the price range, but I can feel my camchain paranoia lurking in the background again. The next item, and one l shall be keeping an eye open for, is the Z650, though I must admit neither the fuel consumption nor consumable wear is anything to inspire much admiration. The later 750 version is faster but hasn't got such good reliability. The Z750 twin is dead cheap, looks nice but is rather complex for a twin, not to mention expensive to run.

Having owned both Suzuki GT and GS250 twins l have no desire to repeat past errors, although to be fair both the ones i had were dogs to start with. The pair only cost me £15 and a pint of Guinness, respectively, and were sold for £25 and £50, so I was happy. The X7 l'd ridden in the past and not enjoyed - too twitchy solo and awful two up. T250s and 350s are very rare and spares would be hard to find and expensive. The GT380 and 550 triples are too thirsty, but if a decent one comes up at the right price I could be tempted.

The SP/GN singles are a bit lacking in top end for motorway work. There are loads of GS twins around for under £500, so no rush there. The 400/4 is a fairly rare beast in the under £500 bracket, and has dubious reliability. The T/GT500 stroker twins outlast many a four stroke; legal runners can be picked up for less than £200. And then there’s the GT750 Kettle triple, but at 30-40mpg and two stroke oil rather expensive to run. The GS550 four can quite often be found for less than 500 notes, but the few GS750s I've seen over recent times for that kind of money have been dogs needing a lot of work and money.

Yamaha two stroke twins score highly on the grin factor but things like RD250s, 350s and 400s are usually well thrashed. My confession to a mate that at the advanced age of 31 I was considering LC ownership, was taken by him as proof that abuse of mind altering substances has led to an early attack of senile dementia and second childhood. Despite trying to get on with them, l don't like the XS250 and 400 twins. Can't recall the last time I saw a decent XS500 twin either. The XT500 single is one of the few dual purpose jobs that could tempt me and I like the looks of the SR500, but the latter has not got the best of reputations.

The XZ550 gets the boot because of its complexity; no chance. The XJ550 four struck me as being a bit too much work to ride last time I tried one, but it was straight after riding a British twin full of an excess of torque. A tough cookie is the XS650 and I think I could learn to live with one if l can find one before they all get chopped. The XS750 triple is a bike l have mixed feelings about. A friend's pampered '77 model lasted for years and a very high mileage, but some have fallen by the wayside in a very short time. A cheap XV750 might just initiate me into the charms of vee twins - there is a cure for the troublesome starter.

Well, as l write this still don't know what to get. A friend’s selling his low mileage CB750KZ but it needs new yokes. Then there is a ’78 Z750 twin for about £350, no tax but only 22000 miles in 12 years - it seems to have been owned by a stream of Bonnie owners who needed something to get spares on. There’s also a CB550 with new t&t and shocks for £425, and rumours of another that’s been laid up for 10 years, worth a phone call.

To be honest, here in '91 l'm quite amazed at the choice. Agreed that as l’m over 30, insurance is not that much. l'm not going to rush the purchase as I want something that will last for a year or so before spending out money on it - tyres, chain and sprockets can easily add up to over the ton on a larger bike It's also possible to get any of the bikes mentioned as rats or non-runners for much less, but I just want to get mobile and some kicks without hassle. See you on the road...

Bruce Enzer

Yamaha XS250

SOU 312S, a silver example, first appeared on a front drive a few streets away. Having been replaced by a CX500 the XS250 was in a poor state. Left parked, several months rain took its toll and each time I passed the house with the dog, it looked worse, but l still thought it would make a good replacement for my Suzuki GT185. When I finally found the owner at home, on the sixth attempt, he said l could have it for a tenner as it was only fit for scrap.

The only good points were a decent pair of Roadrunners, the rest was dog rough... the motor was solid so I convinced myself that the kickstart was at fault. Removing the right-hand engine cover revealed a perfect kickstart mechanism. the damn primary gear would not turn.
Left-hand cover off, the alternator would not budge either. Off with the cambox cover, the camchain had to be sawn through, the head removed to reveal the left—hand piston melted into the bore. The piston was eventually freed from the bore using impact technology.

An engine was purchased from a breaker which had a sound top end and the best bits of each motor were combined, complete with the odd helicoil and bodge. The frame and cycle parts were resprayed, both discs skimmed, a caliper replaced from the local breaker along with many other items and a wheel not about to crack up installed. It looked really great when reassembled.

I liked its simple lines. It was a very straightforward piece of design work - a SOHC vertical twin with pistons moving up and down alternatively, not a balance shaft in sight. It had conventional twin rear shocks, cast alloy wheels, discs at each end and an air of ruggedness.

It spluttered into life but was obviously not right. The carbs were cleaned out but the main bearing and big-end shells were making a bit of a row, so these were replaced and the motor reassembled again. It ran nice and quiet, passed the MOT first time. First problem was an unreliable tickover, the bike needed much fettling every 100 miles as the timing kept going out.

Performance was not startling. Although it could be run along at low revs the power didn't start to appear until the upper reaches of the rev range, and even-then it would not pull your arms out of your sockets. Top speed was somewhere around an indicated 90mph, it was much happier cruising at 70mph, where it would buzz along all day without much of a care in the world.

Handling on worn suspension was fair, it never seemed likely to throw me off in the curves and save for the odd bit of weaving or wobbling when the road surface deteriorated was stable enough to be pleasant on motorways. I never rode the bike to extremes as I wanted to maintain my grip on life.

After about 1500 miles I dropped the bike exiting the M4 roundabout with my teenage son on the back. The shame of it. Cuts and bruises, ruined jacket and scrapes on the bike. I couldn't even have a good swear with the lad about it. The gear lever was bent and jammed but the following cars stopped to assist and get the bike off the road. A borrowed adjustable wrench straightened out the gear lever and the motor fired up okay. The cause of the fall was an oil slick.

I fixed the bike up easily enough but I had lost confidence in it. An Avon Supreme front tyre and a new set of head races helped instill some bravado in my riding. The points kept wearing out rapidly and I had to re-time it every weekend - I thought this was only necessary on old British iron - but at least the miles were piling up.

I was doing 1500 mile oil changes with a new filter at 3000 miles. The chain was washed in petrol/paraffin then boiled in Linklyfe every 1000 miles, sprayed every weekend, along with a couple of strokes of the grease gun to the two swinging arm nipples. Both sets of pads were dismantled every service and reassembled with Copaslip. EBC pads were an early improvement and covered 5000 miles before being transferred to the rear with the new set on to the front. 

At 31500 miles, 7000 on the rebuilt motor, I bought a new engine from a school that had been given two by Yamaha for a project. At £100 it was too good to miss. It still had the need for frequent ignition timing adjustments. Piranha ignition at 36300 miles gave a much crisper motor with better throttle pick up. Plug gap had to be closed to 0.025 to cure a cold misfire at tickover.

A few weeks later I replaced the other Roadrunner. The Supreme on the front was placed on the back and a Michelin M388 was fitted to the front. The Roadrunners did about 5000 miles each, the front Supreme had done 7000 miles without significant wear The bike was really running well, I believed the problems were behind me and I could start planning some long runs without the need for constant maintenance. Comfort was OK for a 100 miles at a time. The seat was the first to give problems, not helped by an imperfect body posture resulting from forward mounted foot-rests. If you wanted to ride flat out for long distances the bike would quickly become very tiring.

I was able to swap from four to two star fuel with no ill effects once the electronic ignition had been fitted. The bike averaged 80mpg which I thought very reasonable. even a hard ride down country lanes didn't dent it too much, with 72mpg being the result. One up for lack of balance chains, eat yer heart out Superdream owners.

One dark and rainy night in March '89 as I’m plonking back from Salisbury across the plain, doing about 50mph along a nice curvy bit the bike loses power... the rear disc had seized on. Slackened off the master cylinder pushrod, the brake freed off and the journey home continued. A weekend strip down revealed a soft seal ring and some corrosion on the piston. A new seal and polished up components appears to have solved the problem.

Some useful suggestions for users -- Motocraft Ford plugs (AG22C) work fine, cheap against NGK; Ford 15W40 oil, good and cheap; Piranha ignition, well worth the money; Avon 180 Supreme tyres, good grip, last well and inexpensive, M385 ditto; EBC pads much better than stock; Baja foam grips soak up the vibes nicely.

To conclude, if you are prepared to invest a little time to maintain and service the beast I don’t expect anyone to be disappointed in an XS. Cheap and cheerful with a plentiful supply of parts, both used and new, you can still pick up a runner and another for spares for next to nothing. Worth looking out for.

Derek Anstey

Honda CB125S

TAN 26N was bought in the summer of '84 for the princely sum of £100. On arriving to look at the bike, it appeared to be in good condition for the year with both chrome and paint still in evidence. The engine looked good externally with no visible oil leaks or signs of butchery.

It had no MOT or tax but according to the owner had recently been rebuilt by him. This last point made me a little suspicious. Why, if the bike was in such good condition for its age, hadn't the owner put a years MOT on it and another £100 or so on the asking price? I decided to give the beast a test ride.

I started the engine first kick and listened for any unusual noises from the 125cc OHC single cylinder engine, in particular the cylinder head. If oil changes are skimped on these machines the head is easily ruined due to blocked oilways allowing drying up of the camshaft bearings. If this happens a replacement head is needed and costs more, new, than the bike is worth secondhand.

No nasties were evident as it ticked over evenly and quietly. l took it for a spin around the block and everything appeared fine. It pulled well throughout the rev range in all the gears and seemed lively for a four stroke single. That was it, I decided to buy it.

It failed the MOT, according to the tester the frame was out of alignment. This pissed me off excessively, with visions of the machine being a write off due to the expense of frame replacement, especially as the rest of the bike was good.

l took it to another MOT tester where it passed with a compliment about it being in good shape for its age! I put the bike through another three tests in the time that l owned it and all it required was—a new exhaust.

Servicing was simple. Just change the oil every 800 or so miles and check the tappets at the same interval. Usually, no adjustment was required but when it was, patience was needed as adjustment is a little awkward. Two thou is a ridiculously small gap to set accurately. Each time the gap was set and the locknut tightened, the gap invariably went down to one thou or disappeared altogether.

Perseverance is the answer as it is important with such a small gap to set it accurately. Ignition timing is dead easy to set and rarely seems to go out anyway. In all the time I had the bike (about four years), I only ever bought one replacement spark plug. It just never seemed to wear out.

Performance for a 125cc single of its age was quite good. if wound up in the gears, acceleration was quick enough to out accelerate most cars in the city and it cruised at 60mph without having to thrash it (I prefer whipping myself anyway). Top end was a bit over 70mph. One had to be careful of artics breathing down one's neck. When this occurred I always felt that this great hissing monster was about to devour me (well, at least it makes life exciting).

Headwinds took their toll on performance with the bike having to be worked hard to maintain a high cruising speed. Starting was always a one kick operation. The bike always lived outside, and no matter how freezing cold or wet, the CB never failed to start and warm up quickly without fuss. This used to give me a perverse form of pleasure as I listened to numerous cars in our roads churning their engines over and over on cold winter mornings. 2CVs seem to be particularly prone to this activity in cold weather.

It was light enough to hold upright when slides started by just sticking both feet down and praying hard. I never came to any grief so I must have been doing something right. Generally, overall handling was not good. On bumpy surfaces the suspension felt far too soft and when rough surfaces were combined with bends at any reasonable speed, all sorts of unwanted contortions took place. Modern 125s show just how much suspension has improved since this machine was made.

Lighting, however, is another story. Although the electrics were always reliable (never any problems with flat batteries, etc), the power of the 35 watt headlamp left a lot to be desired. Even in poorly lit streets I found the beam inadequate for safe riding much above 40mph.

I considered fitting a higher wattage light bulb, but on looking at the electrical specifications I found that the total alternator output was only 45 watts. A bulb of any higher wattage would not leave enough power for the ignition and rest of the lights. As it was, the engine would sometimes stall on tickover when the headlamp was on and indicators in use whilst waiting at junctions for any length of time.

I can only assume that the drain on the system was such that the voltage dropped enough so as to stop the coil producing an efficient spark. Once riding along there appeared to be no problem except that the headlamp beam dimmed significantly each time the indicators flashed. Later models had, 75 watt alternators which must have improved things a lot.

Braking also left something to be desired. Brake fade from the front SLS drum was noticeable. Locally, this was particularly apparent when speeding down Grapes Hill in Norwich and the lights turned to red at the bottom. The front would start to fade when applied hard although the rear held up well. This also seemed worse in hot weather. It seems that the cooling of the linings must be the problem here. However, at least the braking was unaffected in the wet.

Given that l was not a high mileage rider or used the brakes particularly hard, the life of the shoes seemed rather short. This was true for both pattern and genuine parts. I always cleaned out the drums and made sure that all the spindles were lubricated so as to ensure the brakes were not binding on. I can only assume that this must be something to do with the lining quality.

I finally sold the little Honda just before Christmas last year for £200. Not bad considering that I only paid £100 for it and got four years of basically trouble free use from it. My reason for the sale was that I finally got round to passing the bike tests and wanted something with more zap. I ended up with a rebuilt air cooled RD250 which certainly fulfils the zap department. However, it has recently cost me more money in parts and running costs than the Honda ever did. I still see the bike around the city and it appears to be going well and still looks in good shape. The bloke that bought the Honda never even bothered taking it for a test ride. He looked it over, listened to it running and said, ”It sounds like a good 'un," and handed over the £200.

Would I have another? Yes, if I were to use it just for commuting to work, but since I also like a bike for entertainment purposes I really want something with more performance. A Honda CB125S is an excellent and inexpensive way for someone to get into biking provided that a good example can be found. In many ways I found it a rewarding machine to own and hope that it gives its new owner the same service it gave me. 

Steve Crook

Travel Tales: Desert Daze

My first trip to the Sahara was a well planned disaster. Information about what to expect and especially about bike preparation was hard to come by. The otherwise excellent and still useful Sahara Handbook only has a couple of pages of misleading and mistaken information about biking. I was amongst those adventurous nutters who bodged up their XT/XL or BMW and set off across the desert with an alloy tank, racks welded by a friend, spare tyres and far too much luggage.

I had the feeling of walking into an abyss and secretly knew that my overloaded pile of junk would barely make it across the desert to West Africa. In fact, it never did. When the first Yamaha Tenere came out I was down (and out) in Australia. A dribbling appraisal of the new XTZ in a bike shop in West Sydney revealed that this was the machine that my XT500 had tried to be. Big, well mounted tank, oil cooler and O-ring chain, DID rims and motocross derived suspension, a 12V halogen headlight and even folding tip foot controls. Truly the sand fairly had answered my prayers.

But why go? Perhaps I’m worse off for living in the south but you must admit that non competitive off-road riding in this country is hardly challenging. I've spent many a memorable weekend draining Welsh bogs out of air filters but it’s just not the same as spending three days riding the distance from Penzance to Newcastle, seeing maybe a couple of vehicles a day. Everything you need to complete that journey safely is carried with you, and it will all be done without eliciting ramblers', farmers' or plod's scorn. You won't even have to cross a bit of tarmac.

Come evening, pick a friendly dune and set up camp under the clearest sky you've ever seen and, soon after dark, snuggle into your sleeping bag and count the shooting stars, hoping the gerbils keep out of your way. Next morning you might see a caravan of Nomads pass soundlessly by on the other side of the valley, the women wrapped in veils sat motionlessly on the back of camels.

So, Sahara, big as Australia and only a few days away. Crossing the Sahara has been successfully accomplished by many people. As with crossing the Atlantic. one can cross it many times without trouble but for whatever reason, any trip could be your last. Like the sea, the Sahara does not suffer fools. Even with the best preparation and most cautious attitude, you will be lucky to get away without some kind of bite, if not a full blown bark. So don't bite off more than you can chew, something I still tend to do.

Expect the itinerary, carefully conceived on the living room floor with a couple of cans and all the chairs pushed back, to go all to pieces in the reality of the ride. Know also that the more hazardous and complex your situation, the more ingenious your decisions, the more innovative your skills. They have to be. It goes without saying that you are on your own out there. What insurance you can get is only academic with a broken shoulder 200kms from help.

This is what counts: A manageable, economical, reliable and comfortable bike that can carry you and your heap of gear over rack breaking corrugations, rim denting rocks and power sapping sand for half a week at a time. During this time you must have the mental and physical stamina to deal with all the usual stressful situations of getting lost, making emergency repairs and arguing with your mates. Most first timers (and a surprising number go back for more) tend to overestimate their personal needs and underestimate the hammering their bike will get.

There are no short cuts in preparing the bike for a desert trip, which is why most people carry on over to West, East and South Africa. By the time you've made it across the Sahara you might as well carry on. But for many, especially those on motorcycles, the desert will be the most memorable part of the trip. The bike should be light, with low rpm power characteristics and do at least 50mpg, capable of carrying at least six gallons of fuel and 50kg of water, food, tools and spares plus any other baggage.

You won’t be surprised to learn that 500-600cc Yamaha XTs and Honda XLs far outnumber any other bikes in the desert. GS BMWs are also found along with the odd Suzuki DR. Heavier and more comfortable bikes, like the Honda Transalp, are also making an appearance, but I’ve never seen a watercooled Kawasaki KLR out there, even though the 650 version has, if nothing else, got the tank for it. Proper Enduro four strokes like TTs and XRs are usually travelling with a car carrying the baggage and extra fuel. Two stroke scramblers are usually left in the back of the van, used only for the odd bit of dune bashing in the evenings.

In the Sahara, spares for Japanese bikes fall with the rain. There is the odd, abandoned XT/XL in Tamanrasset garages but you're on your own out there. You must have confidence in your bike to make the entire trip on its own resources. Even inner tubes are hard to find new, and, like jerry cans, are always in demand. My choice would be the original kickstart Tenere; later models have some improvements (notably in air filter design plus oil tank and cooler positioning) but the expense of the electric starts have meant retrograde, cost cutting features elsewhere. These models also seem less economical and durable.

I have mostly concerned myself with the Francophone countries of the central and western Sahara because Libya is still not a place for Brits to go on holiday and, away from the Lake, Chad is as remote as Mauritania and still dangerous in the north. Not forever, hopefully.

Despite the recently introduced requirements of visas for British passport holders (requiring an interview and costing £35) Algeria is still the best country for a bit of desert riding. It's a Mediterranean country and therefore still within the terms of limited travel and accident insurance available within the Sahara. Decent food, foreign cigarettes and alcohol are scarce. Don’t confuse Algeria with its more modern, tourist orientated neighbours, Morocco and Tunisia. And Algerians don’t exactly welcome you with open hands!

One could do a lot worse than choosing Morocco for one’s first visit to the desert. Once you break away from the hassles of the north, south of the High Atlas, the small band of desert up to the disputed Algerian frontier has some interesting pistes that would give you a good taste of the real Sahara without committing yourself too much. Despite what they tell you at the tourist office, you can't yet ride down the Atlantic coast to Nouadhibou in Mauritania. Hopefully, this situation won't last forever.

The trouble with Niger is that, apart from the 200km section of the trans Sahara route from Assamaka to Arlit, you can't ride anywhere off tarmac without paying for an expensive guide - on a bike this is obviously a problem. It is also a shame because it denies you all the pistes in the Beautiful Air mountains and fascinating Tenere desert and beyond. Enough people have gone missing in the Tenere to make this restriction understandable.

Mali has the southern half of the other trans Sahara route, the Tanezrouft. This is the 600km section from Tessalit near Algeria to Gao on the River Niger (travel is sometimes restricted due to the Tuareg rebellion in this area). From Gao (or, to be precise, Bouremi a sandy piste leads the 400-odd kms to Timbouctou. You won’t be the first person to want to try to visit this town just for the sake of it, but if you manage to ride the entire piste without falling off consider yourself a fine off-road rider! Pistes north of Timbouctou are for camels and experienced locals only.

Mali has a host of tiresome and regularly renewable permits that make a long visit a complicated and expensive proposition. This is a shame because apart from the sometimes corrupt local authorities this is a friendly and interesting country.

Although currently only accessible from Mali, Mauritania will be a pleasant surprise, foreign aid putting more in the shops (and the middlemen's pockets) than you might have expected. Thoughtless generosity from successive Paris Dakar rally teams has given some locals expectations you can't match, though any visitor is bound to be a welcome recipient of legendary Moorish hospitality. The pistes here are as remote as any and you will need a very expensive guide, which unfortunately rules out unsupported bike trips.

Visiting the deep Sahara during the summer on a bike is out of the question. While a carefully planned crossing may be accomplished with some discomfort, the heat will demand water consumption of at least 10 litres per day. This is drinking water only and will still leave you feeling tired, lethargic and susceptible to sickness. A sound bike will handle things much better than you, but the safety margins of motorcycling in the desert are narrow enough and in summer the risk is far too great.

October to March is the best time to visit the desert. The shortest days (about 10 hours) and coldest nights (in the Hoggar) are around New Year. The Michelin 953 map has a climatic table giving temperature and rainfall in North and West Africa. I have experienced light rain only once, in '86, otherwise it will be colder than you think in the evenings.

Even on the tarmac highways where distances are vast you should always take the trouble to know your position as accurately as possible. On the piste, landmarks such as major road crossings, distinctive mountains or steep passes should be reassuringly anticipated with regular reference to the map, odometer and guide book. Zero the trip at the beginning of a stage when all your reserves are replenished and only reset it when you get to your next safe destination - a spare speedo cable is essential! Blindly following tracks without thought to landmarks, orientation or maps is the most common way of getting lost.

A track can infuriatingly begin to turn the wrong way or disappear altogether. If you are tired, low on fuel or your bike is running badly these moments of uncertainty can lead to careless decisions, such as trying to take a short cut back to your last known position. In mixed going getting totally lost is as easy as falling off. And if you are pinned down by your bike a mile away from the main route you may never be found again. If you get lost, always follow your tracks backwards to a point that is known. 

Correcting these inevitable mistakes is where your barely adequate reserves of fuel will be used up. As you can see, keeping an eye on where you are, your partner and the terrain under your wheels, little time is left to appraise the sometimes spectacular Saharan scenery around you. Biking in the desert requires a clear mind aware of its own fallibility. Take compass bearings away from your bike.

A pair of mini binoculars can also be used in looking for lost partners or distant marker posts. If you are travelling alone carry a rocket flare but only use the thing when you are certain it will be seen by someone! Confident orientation that does not make hasty judgements can inspire confidence in a situation that is always slightly tense.

Even in the depths of winter you will soon notice the heat and dry air once you start trying to jump your bike up a sandy river bed. Away from the extreme ends of the recommended season, a ten litre water container plus a 2 litre water bottle should get you the 450 miles from Djanet to Tamanrasset safely - about three days riding. This water accounts for drinking and cooking only, never fail to fill up with fresh water whenever you can. If in doubt, boil or sterilise the water with Puritabs or the like. In Algeria this is rarely necessary but in the south be cautious.

In the very end, after everything else has broken down, run out or fallen off, it is your water that will keep you alive Be certain to attach your water containers securely to the bike and check frequently that it, and the rest of the baggage, are still attached, especially over rough ground. Crossing the Sahara is not the easiest trip in the world, but that’s probably why people keep coming back for more.

Chris Scott