The problem with buying a crashed Moto Guzzi Lario was that there were few in breakers. In fact, there were few on the road. I ended up fitting Le Mans forks and waiting two months for a new frame to be hauled over from ltaly - the tubes had snapped when the local amateur tried straightening the bent one. I had plenty of time to check out the 650cc V-twin motor, set it up to perfection, reassured by the fact that the clock said only 6800 miles in between the shards of broken glass.
I had so much time that I tore apart the awful mess of wiring and quietly made up my own loom with aircraft quality wiring (borrowed from work). The ratbag of switches, regulators, rectifiers, cut-outs, relays and other cunningly engineered bits of electrical sophistry were replaced or merely deleted along the way, good old Japan coming up with much better bits via the breaker.
It was cheaper to have an alloy tank made up than buy a new one. A lovely Le Mans twin headlamp fairing was eventually persuaded to grace the front, along with Lemon clip-ons, clocks and idiot lights - all cut price from the local breaker. Wheels were an altogether different problem until some lovely magnesium cast items were procured from some idiot who thought it was a good idea to take a tuned Lario racing and found out the error of his ways when the first time out the motor blew up.
I too found out the error of my ways when a week after the machine was finally brought back from the dead, I went to see a pristine example on offer for two thirds what I'd ended up paying for mine. You know what they say about fools and their money...
At least the bike was finally in good shape and a joy to ride around on. The riding position was hell for slow work but that only gave me the incentive to ride like a lunatic. A lot lighter than the Le Mans, at 380lbs, the front end was undeniably too stiff, chattering over bumps and making the bike shake its head when backing off the throttle.
Taking your hands off the bars at 30mph it felt more like a Raleigh Wisp than a piece of taut Wop technology. However, there was a nice, new rigid frame that somehow helped the bike hold its line however rough the suspension became. And with a shaft drive that would wind up the back shocks something chronic it could become very rough indeed.
The engine spits out a deep, tractor-like rumble through decidedly non-standard megaphones that some juvenile delinquent not a hundred miles from this typewriter thought an ideal match to the bright red character of the Lario. They did prove an ideal match to the carburation once the air filters and associated hoses were removed.
A mighty wallop of torque is available just off throttle which around six grand goes wild, the silencers give off this delightful how! that has police reaching for their notebooks half a mile away. Lumbering along at low revs in top gear does subdue the roar to the point where police merely grimace in disgust, but the riding position is so painful that I can only stand it for a few minutes at a time.
Indicated top speed has been as much as 140mph on the admittedly unreliable speedo - it once started flicking animatedly up and down the scale. Even if it’s only 120mph, which is what the UMG claims, that’s quite impressive for a 60hp vee twin that has its roots in the extremely Plain Jane V50. Comfortable cruising speed is 85 to 100mph, beyond that the motor puts out some vibes and the bike also weaves horribly.
The immensely powerful Lemon front brakes are not part of the linked system normally seen on Guzzis, as the race wheel came with its own calipers and steel hosing, so it seemed a shame to waste them. The only problem with this set up is that pad life is less than 3000 miles...
I have done just 13500 miles in the past two years on the Lario - about a third of what I did on my last Japanese machine. Major engine problems have included one set of pushrods that jumped out of their rockers, jammed the valves open so that they smashed up the piston, in turn scattering alloy bits through the engine. Granted I was pushing the motor well into the red in second gear at the time - no way, I thought, that some youth on a YPVS was going to show me up. Actually, he came back and towed me home!
After I'd sorted that mess out, the main bearings started rumbling less than 1000 miles later. The deformed crankshaft, wrecked bearings and further bits of alloy circulating through the engine may have been caused by the original seizure or may have been down to bad design or mere bad luck. Whatever, there was no way I was going to throw more good money after bad on an engine that had shown itself willing to wreck almost every component that hid within the polished cases.
Before I could advertise my immaculate chassis, someone else was advertising a crashed V65, this having the cooking version of the Lario’s motor with a mere 52 horses to hand. It was only £200 for the whole mangled machine, so was worth a try. The lump refused to fire up until I had carefully fitted the air filters back on and placed some proper silencers on the end of the downpipes. Thereafter life was found but to my mind it was often doubtful if it was worth the effort.
After the glorious thundering of the Lario motor the V65 felt like it would not be able to pull the skin off a rice pudding (which was how looking at the red figures in my bank account made me feel). In reality, just over the ton was possible with hardly any vibes and a contented purr out of the silencers - the neighbours were once again talking to me rather than setting their dogs loose on me!
It seemed sensible to strip off the fairing, fit some proper handlebars and start riding in a manner befitting my mature years. After a while the silencers fell to rust, the air filters proved impossible to fit back on and some jets in the carbs, the megaphones and the demon grin reappeared. For just over a month the Guzzi ran like a dream, regularly hitting 110mph until I did the same trick as before, tangling the valves and seizing the motor.
Confusingly, in whatever form of inspiration the engine managed, fuel always stayed pretty much the same - a dreadful 35mpg! Tyres wore out at an horrendous rate too, nothing I tried lasted longer than 4000 miles and one set of Pirellis were down to the carcass in 2350 miles! The shaft drive caused no problems, although towards the end there was an ominous whine from the universal joint and the kind of driveline lash that made the agricultural gearbox almost impossible to use unless you took hours over the change.
I was a dab hand at Guzzi reconstruction and was relieved to find that this time the valves had merely cracked the top of the piston and not filled the engine with two tons of molten alloy. A spare but ancient looking V65 cylinder, piston, head and carb were placed on the one side in an experimental manoeuvre. Much to my shock, the engine fired up and ran! Vibes were more intrusive but still not up to Triumph twin levels.
It seemed like a good moment to get shot of the heap of... er, rare classic Italian motorcycle with modest improvements to improve its road manners, which is how I put it to anyone who was silly enough to phone up. As a psychology student past (although I didn’t pass, if you see what I mean) I doubled the price I wanted. At that ridiculous level everyone was bound to assume it was a good one!
I was deluged with calls by would be collectors and enthusiasts. The first fool who turned up all but thrust the loot into my greedy hands and was gone before the second had time to roar over from the other side of town. He was disconsolate to have missed the Lario, muttering something about them being the best bike Moto Guzzi ever made... what absolute rot!
I was laughing all the way to the bank but was waylaid by this neat little Ducati 250 single. Desmo head, beautiful lines, just a few dents in the tank, bent forks, frame just a tiny bit twisted and... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Simon Lock