The riding position left me propped high above the machine, my six feet plus frame looking a bit out of place on the diminutive twin. The owner fought hard to hide a snigger. The bike bounced along on clapped out suspension, the engine didn't want to wind up and overall gave a general impression of being a bit of an old hack. The gearbox was surprisingly slick for an old Honda and the engine was also oil tight.
Fifty quid? Nope, five times that. Before I could burst into laughter, the owner pulled me into his garage and showed me a couple of old Benlys in bits. Throw them in for free. OK, how about a ton and a half? Final offer. Some muttering, dark looks and the docs were found, the deal done.
Fred, the fabled Transit owner, was summoned, the Benly and assorted bits thrown into the back. Half an hour later, I was as happy as a brickie on double time, tearing off various rotted Chassis components and choosing the best parts from the large selection. The only real problem, all the petrol tanks were equally rotted. A couple of conversations with breakers revealed the chance of getting an intact specimen was on a par with finding an honest dealer.
The best of the bunch was lovingly punctured with my oldest screwdriver, the large holes had steel plate riveted in and then a layer of GRP, sanded down and painted. Didn't look half bad and no signs of petrol leakage. Later, I found a brand new tank for thirty notes, from a dealer getting rid of old stock.
The engine's rattles were caused-by a stringy camchain, which was replaced in situ. The valve clearances set, new oil added, the engine purred with renewed vigour and the chassis had a reasonable enough shine to ensure a new MOT certificate.
The open road beckoned. Performance was a bit of a disappointment. Acceleration could be described as stately if you were of a benign disposition; more likely as dog slow! It needed life threatening revs in first, second and third if more than 50mph was wanted on the speedo. Otherwise, it was reluctant to go over 40mph.
Top speed, max revs in all the gears, was 75mph but the slightest bit of wind or upward gradient reduced that to 65mph. 32000 miles on the clock, some heavy wear on what | figured was the original engine - the deep corrosion on the engine screws suggested most of them had never been touched my human hand probably explaining that!
Starting was an interesting ritual, needing perfect throttle and choke positioning as well as at least five kicks from cold. If used in town for a couple of hours, the motor went so hot that it conked out, maybe even momentarily seizing. Not one to indulge in unwarranted exercise, new spark plugs were deemed necessary...
I've been around the block enough times to be totally aware of the perils of old Japanese alloy. The old plugs, predictably, reluctant to come out until the wrench was given a short, sharp tap with a hammer so heavy I could barely lift it. The plugs actually creaked as they were unwound and looked like original fare. The new ones, given a squirt of WD40 to ease their way in, went in fine but one went loose on the final twist before catching. Thought I'd blown it but it was OK in the end.
Starting improved to a lackadaisical single kick and acceleration was a bit more sprightly though the bike was still reluctant to go above 65mph. I wandered around on it for the next few months, doing a ten mile daily commute and a bit of weekend back-laning. Used to its ways, I found I enjoyed most of the miles.
Handling was loose but predictable. Ground clearance and cheap tyres limited the fun but it never seemed really dangerous. If it was bounced around by the bumps and twitched its bars on occasion, it would blast along at about 60mph without too much effort or hassle.
By the time the clock was up to 16000 (probably three times that in real life) miles, though, the engine was actually knocking away and the rotted silencers were smoking heavily. Obviously on the way out. A trip to the local breakers secured a complete, crashed bike, with an engine that ran fine. Eighty quid!
The transplant went without any hassle until it was time to connect up the wiring loom. The wires coming out of the engine ended in a non-standard connector that not even the most fervent optimist could fit to the old loom. OK, take the old one off the transplant bike and fit that to my loom, except that it left two wires unaccounted for!
Turned out that the transplant bike was running a 12V alternator, my Benly a 6V system! The solution was to swap all the electrics over! It might've been easier to swap alternators but I don't like to touch motors that are running fine. Besides, the appalling front light was long overdue for an upgrade. The 12V unit was at least three times more powerful; same for the horn.
One problem I hadn't foreseen was that the 12V battery was very dead and couldn't be revived. The same breaker let me have a replacement for a fiver and also agreed to buy all my spare chassis parts for which I had no use - thirty quid. At least I could now get into my garage without hitting my shins on disparate bits of motorcycle
The open road beckoned again. I had no high expectations of the new motor, and was pleasantly surprised when I found there was a bit more blood and guts in the 19000 miler. Alas, nothing's that simple. Though it accelerated almost briskly, the gearbox was a typical old Honda unit with a total lack of feel and thus a surfeit of false neutrals. Embarrassing, having the old hack screaming at about ten thousand revs in the middle of town rather than shooting through the stalled traffic.
With its new found ability to blast through 70mph and put 80mph on the clock, the lack of handling and braking finesse became rather frightening. On one 75mph comer, the bike bouncing and wallowing like the end was near, the stand's prong dug it, levering the back wheel off the ground. A bowel loosening twitch, a. fight with the bars, we were back on the straight and narrow.
Fuel had also improved. Previously, I'd been getting 60mpg; with the new engine, 75-80mpg despite higher speeds and better acceleration. Oil consumption also improved, from about a litre a week to none needed between 500 mile changes (left any longer, the gearchange became totally impossible).
I had the chance of a decent set of CB400N forks, wheel and twin discs for forty notes. Taking off the old Benly forks, discovered some cracks in the lower yoke! Probably saved myself from an untimely death. The twin discs had the whole bike bouncing around with the untoward retardation. The front end was also much more precise, really showing up the soggy stock shocks, so a pair was found in the breakers in exchange for the Benly's old front end! The breaker seemed not the least bit concerned when I pointed out the cracks.
With half decent handling, plausible acceleration, and a chassis in reasonable condition, I had a really useful commuter that would also take on milder weekend trips. Comfort would've been limited by the stock seat, which basically falls apart after a few years, but a used 2:4 item was persuaded on; its duck's tail didn't match the bulbous petrol tank but it was really comfortable for the rider (turned the wife very bitchy on the pillion).
I would've kept the bike for much longer, had not someone offered me a good deal on a Honda CB400, the Benly taken in part exchange. They rot deeply, the engines go off by 35000 miles, but they can be resurrected for next to nothing and make worthy hacks.
K.I.