Yamaha RD400

Old Robbie owned the RD from new. That isn't to say, that a couple of decades down the line, it's anywhere near new condition. In the early days it went the ace bars and spannies route. Lovely noise, hot performance and good handling. The cops loved it, one local pig must've got a promotion on the back of all the pulls he made!

Then the bike spent a couple of years in proddie racing trim, screaming around the race tracks. The bike was on the pace, Robbie wasn't, spending half his time doing the gravel rash blues. A short stint followed as a despatch hack, which soon reduced the bike to a rolling piece of rubble.

The engine was amazingly tough, though, only choking on its reed valves at 39000 miles really doing for it! The whole bike was deemed a wreck and thrown into a corner of the garage. Robbie had fun and games on an RD350LC for a few years until a chance meeting found him the proud owner of a second RD400E. Its main claim to fame, a brand new frame.

The engine was in lots of bits, many missing. But combining the best parts from the two motors, along with an exchange crankshaft, produced a running machine. Robbie had doubled in weight in a decade of self-indulgence, the ace-bars no longer much use. The RD ended up back in stock set-up; all the better for it.

Robbie got enough kicks out of the deal to sell his GTi and buy a CBR600. I was allowed to borrow the RD during the summer, in the winter it was used by Robbie instead of the CBR. As my previous mount was a CG125, the RD's 40 horses and 350lbs were more than enough for me!

The direct flow of two-stroke power was a bit of a revelation, the CG always seemed to be going backwards! I was soon screaming up to the ton, hanging on to the CBR's back wheel. The suspension had been upgraded to allow for Robbie's massive weight, was rock solid for me. Gave really taut handling. Screaming the motor, I could keep up with the CBR when it was ridden in a half sane manner. When riding in a pack, though, Robbie didn't want to lose face and left me for dead.

Top speed turned out to be about 120mph on the clock, probably a true 115mph. It pulled strongly up to about 110mph without really causing any problems at lower revs, thanks to a large amount of midrange torque. The reed valves helped as did the electronic ignition. Despite the useful low end power, the motor ran much better if given maximum throttle all the time. Which meant 35-40mpg, against 60mpg if it was kept below five grand.

The back end of the bike came unhinged if full throttle was applied when banked over in third gear (never tried it in second, not wanting to fall off...) but would come back into line if the throttle was backed off momentarily. I became a bit blase about the twitching, really putting the bike through its paces. No surprise that I fell off! The bike hit a bump as I backed off once too often and the back tyre lost it all. Gravel rash time. The bike was relatively unscathed - had to do a respray to keep Robbie happy. I had half the skin taken off my leg! Bloody motorcycles. Bloody NHS, which kept me hanging around for hours in a lot of pain. Not being entirely sane at this point, next day I swung my leg over the bike and promptly rode it into rather than around a roundabout! No great damage, just dented pride!

A week or so later I was back on the pace, though getting some odd looks from biking mates! I was slightly more restrained on the controls, at last realising that the narrow tyres couldn't hope to match the fat, sticky rubber of modern tackle. One vague acquaintance had a mono-shock conversion on his RD400 and also fitted smaller, wider wheels to take modern rubber. The result was a slow turning piece of madness that did a wild speed wobble at 90mph. The steering geometry obviously doesn't suit modern tyres.

Maintenance was relatively easy. Add oil to the tank and balance the carbs every 300-350 miles. Tyres lasted about 8000 miles but don't mix makes as the handling goes to pot. Brake pads were EBCs, worked fine in the wet and had just enough power in the dry. So much cut and thrust went down, though, that I was only getting about 4500 miles out of a set! The bike had an expensive O-ring chain conversion and I never got close to wearing it out; needed adjustment every 400 miles. Fuel and oil were the major expenses.

I've made various offers to Robbie to buy the RD but he doesn't want to know, likes it too much as a back-up and contrast to the sublime but too civilised Honda. I'm on the look-out for a good 'un, there are still some on offer. 

D.K.

 

Honda CB250N

Having passed my part two test on a damp and cold December day, I was keen to find a replacement for my ailing GP 100. Things had got so bad that I was forced to borrow a decidedly ratty H100 off a mate to take the test. As a student, funds were rather limited. While investigating the cheap and cheerful section of the local used motorcycle emporium, I chanced upon a bright red ‘W’ reg CB250N.

This particular Wet-dream had a history known to me, it had belonged to a mate who had traded it in a couple of weeks previously for a tatty, but rapid RD400. This particular 250 was in far better condition than the majority of the tired old commuter hacks, possessing Koni shocks, a Micron 2-1, and decent Avon rubber. It had a general air of being well cared for, despite the suspiciously large number of previous owners recorded in the log book.

After parting with an obscene amount of money for insurance, and a reasonable £300 for the bike, I was on the road. As the owner of a 250 I could now look down on my peers on their 125s, even if some of the sportier examples had no trouble in keeping up with my rather staid mount.

The braking and handling were a revelation after the GP’s poor suspension and horrendous drum brakes. Corners were taken flat out and every roundabout was an excuse for scraping the pegs, my footwear soon sporting strange angular cuts on the edges. This surprisingly good handling produced many amusing dices on the public racetrack, otherwise known as the B4313.

A favourite time was chasing a pair of nutters on a TZR250 and a Z400 twin, with a pair of timid Z400J and Pantah riders bringing up the rear. The Pantah rider later enduring a lot of good natured piss taking for being beaten by a Wet-dream. This particular stretch of road features a truly excellent hump-back bridge, which is perfect for gaining big air if approached at a decent lick. I once rode over this bridge at an estimated 90mph.

Speed had always been difficult to calculate as the speedo stopped dead at 70, but the bike had been regularly clocked at 90mph plus. The previous owner was even clocked cracking the ton, but then he was always able to make bikes reach speeds far beyond even the most outrageous claims of the manufacturers.

Local myth has it that he once left an embarrassed Bonnie owner for dead on a Honda step-thru. The result of such juvenile bridge jumping was one seriously unhappy Superdream, leaking shocks, and the remains of a numberplate attempting to shred the back tyre.

Consumables were dealt with reasonably frugally. In the 6000 miles the bike suffered under my hands, I only had to replace the rear tyre and acquire a replacement rear wheel after the hub disintegrated.

After owning the bike for four months, I finally succumbed to the demands of a friend who'd been hassling me to sell him the thing. The sale was probably influenced by the ease with which the pillion pegs touched down en-route to the local dubious nightspot.

A basket case RD250 was imposing a large demand on my finances, so I parted with the CB for 250 notes, buying a cheap MZ150 for daily transport. The MZ was a big mistake, it paid me back for all the liberties I took while aboard the CB. Non-folding footpegs and tight corners don’t mix, ouch!.

The new owner of the CB250 didn’t inherit any of my luck. The bike went through seven engines in as many months, ending up as a rolling wreck painted in a rather fetching Hammerite silver, with an engine covered in a strange green mould. Nobody knew where this particular engine had been acquired, but | strongly suspect it had once been used as an anchor for one of the local fishing boats.

A sad end to a vastly underrated little bike, but a tale illustrating just how quickly they can turn into total rats. Buy a good one, if you can find one, and they make useful all-rounders.

Bruce Sinclair

 

Loose Lines [Issue 94, Aug-Sept 1999]

Sweet talk official dealers, with the wad of cash in your underpants, chances are they will match or even slightly better the prices of the parallel importers. Prices of new motorcycles have, largely, reached sensible and reasonable levels (about twelve years after the UMG started complaining about them in issue number one).

There are still anomalies. Low end motorcycles, for instance, cost around 500 quid out of the factory gate but end up costing two grand here. (Replica 600s, by contrast, cost about three grand ex-factory and can be had for £5000-£5500, which given the level of tax here works out as a reasonable deal). Fixed costs to blame for some of this but there isn't really any reason why commuters shouldn't be going for around the grand mark rather than twice that.

It took the official importers a while to stop pissing around with offers of cheap finance, free insurance, free clothing, etc., but they have finally given the people what they want. Good motorcycles at cheap prices. Triumph haven't quite bitten the bullet this year, offering pre-registered (by the factory) bikes rather than slashing new prices as such but next year they are likely to be highly competitive, also plenty of new models.

Lots of parallel importers have given up or switched back to second-hand bikes. Some have done a disappearing act with the deposits as a final encore in their cut and run game with the motorcycle business, moving on or back to other sectors of the economy where price discrepancies rule - car prices, for instance, are still over the top compared to Europe or America.

Prices in the used sector still rock bottom but the first signs of new bike prices bottoming out (with consequent knock-on effect on used bikes) can be found in some of the new parallels which have risen slightly in price over the last month. It's unlikely that the bigger parallel importers will disappear altogether, though, as they have the buying power to purchase cheaply in bulk and pass on those savings to customers. They too have started offering cheap finance, insurance and extended warranties as incentives. Worth supporting the more established parallel importer if they are in your area, without them new bike prices would still be a rip-off.

The Big Four are much more likely to start really competing against each other on price, too. It only takes one company to step way out of line to start the ball rolling. Having cut most of the fat out of the UK retail market the next step is to design bikes from the ground up to be cheaper and more competitive.

Bikes like Suzuki's SV650 indicate the way things are going (you should buy a Suzuki if you can, anyway, just to thank them for starting off the whole cheap motorcycle game with their 600 Bandit). A lightweight, high tech V-twin so nicely refined that you can't really see any evidence of its budget price. Alloy frame, light weight, great brakes, ace handling, marvellous style and a vee twin motor full of character.

Not the fastest middleweight on offer but fun without having to lose your licence on each outing. Makes similarly priced twins, like the GPz500S, look pretty silly. The design's based on the TL1000 but honed and refined. There's still yet more mass that could be pruned, even if it threatens to make the middleweight straight four redundant.

Expect bigger versions of the SV at even lower prices. All kinds of interesting tackle just over the horizon: big four engines shoe-horned into light and minimal yet strong chassis; V-twins in as many sizes and configurations as you can shake a stick at, and a final refinement of the vertical twin that will let all its attributes shine without any of the usual horrors.

The design and development cycle is the next thing for the chop, bikes updated every six months instead of every year, then every three months. The idea being to improve the bike almost every time they set up a production run for it! Many European companies can't even get one model, however long-lived, right!

This won't happen overnight, already the Japanese companies are having trouble coping with the rapid redesigns of their high tech engines - recalls reaching alarming levels! This is all in the detail, the Japs will just keep on refining their testing procedures until they more perfectly match life on the road. But there's no reason why they can't, immediately, do styling updates every few months, using the same engine and chassis as a basis.

The Japanese, as master engineers, can play any games they like. Move on from the straight four to other designs, more or less on a whim. A singular engine design conceived and executed by any of the big four would form the basis of a whole company in Europe or America rather than merely the centre of yet another model range in Nippon. The intricacies, in both basic design and production, so well refined by the Japanese that they can easily be transferred between models.

Oddly, Triumph started out using modular three and four cylinder engines but have now switched to different engine and chassis designs that must be a minor nightmare to source. Chances are, if prices are going to be competitive, they will slim all that down next year with one basic version of the triple (plus four and twin!) and only a couple of chassis variants, with a large range of styling options. The thing that pissed most punters off, the fact that the bikes were selling a lot cheaper in the States than here! They seemed to have wised up, these days - fortunately for them!

Modern replicas are rather disarming creatures, full of instant gratification, incredible acceleration and mind warping top speeds. The prospect of my buying the latest replica is as likely as my licence lasting more than a couple of hours were I to find myself astride such a device. Replicas won't disappear overnight but they will be supplemented by an increasing range of much more interesting and useful machines. Sit back and enjoy. 

Bill Fowler

 

UJMs Galore: Favourite Fours

These days, with a surfeit of sophisticated motorcycles on offer, it's all too easy to forget just what we had to put up with back in the early seventies and late sixties. I'd gone through more than my fair share of noxious Brits that self-destructed if not treated with an excess of TLC. The final insult, a 250 Ducati single that was supposedly able to crack the ton - it did it the once then exploded.

By the time 1977 rolled around I was ready for a bit of sophistication. In the form of a six month old Honda CB400F1. After that Ducati the Honda was absolute bliss - and I say that as a callow youth who took the piss out of rice-burners something rotten! I couldn't believe how easily it started, for instance. Rather than risk breaking my left ankle, all I had to do was press a button. And the smoothness of the four cylinder mill - right out of another (happier) world.

Revelling in all this sophistication, it took me a little while to realise that the four cylinder engine was just a bit gutless. It needed revs to fly, and then only managed 35 ponies flat out around the 105mph mark. 80mph cruising was about right, another 10mph if there was a following breeze. Handling was better than the Ducati because the latter had rock-hard suspension that allowed the bike to leap about on bumpy roads. There was the mildest of weaves at the ton but it wouldn't have made me back off. The single disc brake and rear drum were up to the standards of the day but a bit laughable compared to modem technology. Back then I had no complaints. Comfort was brilliant, the CB400 acknowledged at the time as one of the few Jap bikes to come fresh from the factory with ergonomics as good as your average BMW twin (which back then defined such things).

Melding with the machine was easy, there was nothing about it that intruded in an annoying way - to the extent that I often wasn't sure which of the six gears I was in or how fast I was going without looking at the clocks. Most British and Italian bikes were then such vibratory horrors that their cruising speeds were dictated by the rev range in the engine where they smoothed out, no need for clocks, really.

Such was the joy at finding a motorcycle that could be ridden without worrying if I was going to reach my destination aboard a machine that was still in one piece, that huge mileages were clocked up on the little 400 four. It came with 3000 miles on the clock, after less than six months that had grown to 26500 miles... unfortunately, at that kind of mileage there's a strong likelihood of the pistons and bores going down. I knew something was wrong because it didn't want to pull more than 90mph in top gear, even down ahill. Smoke out of the exhaust soon followed.

When I stripped the engine down, the small-end were also shot. My sarcastic local Honda mechanic reckoned I hadn't ever changed the oil - on one trip had left it for 3500 miles, so that might've contributed to its demise. I had the chance of buying a Hon CB750K four of a similar vintage for a bargain price, so the little Honda sat in pieces in a corner of garage - for a while! The 750 was a big old lump, a real handful after the svelte F1. But the motor had a charm all of its own. I liked the mid-range grunt and didn't even mind the way it would buzz a bit as maximum revs were sought. Saw 140mph on the clock, tumed the handling very interesting. The bike came with improbably high bars and forward mounted pegs, had to-contort myself to get my head between the clocks!
 

The bike appeared to have both weak headstock and swinging arm mounts, when they both started to wobble in sync the CB750 liked to take over two lanes of highway! Took some getting used to, much diminished by using flat bars, rear-sets and Girling shocks. New steering head bearings had a major effect on front end Stability (this with 14000 miles on the clock) and once used to the 500Ibs of mass I could ride with unknown speed and had total faith in the engine. Did 45000 miles in a year with nothing going wrong with the motor. By then the primary hyvoid chain was a bit clattery, the gearbox required a particularly determined left foot and the clutch was dragging a bit in town... But it came as absolutely no surprise that the new owner took her around the clock without a stripdown. I wouldn't even be surprised to learn that the bike could still tum a wheel, though today you don't see many on the road.

I'd found the bits to do up the CB400 but the bike never ran as silkily smooth as when I'd first bought it. Both Hondas were sold at the same time, to raise funds for the next monster machine. Yep, it just had to be a Kawasaki Z900. This was literally king of road at the time, an amazing piece of advanced technology that had the legs on the smaller Honda in every possible way. I swelled with pride just sitting aboard the shining beast!

Everywhere in the rev range the engine was that much stronger, hit 6000 revs and the world sped backwards at a dastardly rate. Handling varied from bike to bike - for some reason - and I had one of the bad ones. I should've been used to loose handling but the Z was something else. Combined with marginal brakes, it took a lot of fun out of going around corners. If I hadn't lost enough speed to bounce around the curve I was in real trouble, it just didn't like the idea of a trailing throttle or braking when banked over.

The straights were another matter - totally exhilarating! I swear I was suffering from blurred vision after a bit of drag racing with the lads! That motor was as tough as they came, vibrated less than the Honda and seemed to thrive on revs. After the F1 fiasco I was a bit religious about the oil changes but apart from that did 40000 miles of rather neglectful riding without any apparent ill-effects on the motor.

The one thing I did hate about the Z900 was wet weather riding, the power would have the tyres skidding all over the tarmac unless I was very careful with the throttle and the front disc had an appalling bit of wet weather lag that stopped my heart many a time. Just often enough to have me nervous about long trips, the engine would cut out on one cylinder in heavy rain and I soon became a WD40 enthusiast.

I celebrated the early eighties by selling everything I owned, spending a few years on the hippie trail through India! It was all that free love that did it! Back in Blighty, took a while to get some serious dosh together and I ended up hustling around on a Yamaha XS1100, of all things! This made the Z seem like a moped. It had great gobs of torque, a frenzy of vibes after 7500 revs (with 39000 miles on the clock) and the handling truculence of a buffalo with a wasp up its whatsit!

Pushing 600lbs of shaft driven monster motorcycle hard sure got the adrenaline going! This was a bike with seriously bad karma, man! And a highly destructive nature. It was so slowly turning that it threatened to bulldoze its way through obstacles on the back of its outrageous momentum. I once put 140mph on this dead straight, smooth piece of motorway but it was like being aboard a wallowing roller-coaster and the vibes had my eyeballs rotating in their sockets.
 

Seriously weird and not even particularly strong, the crank's main bearings going pop at around the 57000 mile mark, though, again, I'd ridden the old thing in neglect mode. I put in this treacle-like oil and pottered down to the local dealer, got a good trade-in deal on a Honda CB650 the one with the Euro-styling and Comstar wheels. The poor old dealer went nuts when the mechanic blew the motor up a couple of days later and even came around my house to complain but my wife saw him off! These ex-hippy babes are tougher than they look!

The Honda was as mild as could be after the previous series of monster fours, based as it was on the CB400/500 design which even came out as a 350 in Japan. You could tell it was a bit stretched by the fierce secondary vibes around 9000 revs, worse than the original 750 four! It wasn't that slow, though, 125mph on the clock kept it in the game and ton-plus cruising well within its capacity. The clock read 19000 miles, the paint and chrome still shone, and it whirred away with typical Honda tenacity.

Handling was much better than the earlier bikes, up there with the 400 for the ease with which it could be slung through the bends despite weighing an extra 60 pounds. It already had Girling shocks, leaving me to fit the obligatory flat bars that worked well with the stock footrests. Braking was weak, fuel heavy at 40mpg (full throttle most of the time!) and the drive chain remarkable in its lack of longevity - as little as 3000 miles!

With 38000 miles on the clock, meticulous maintenance sessions included (I was learning from experience - at last!), i felt that the motor was beginning to show its age and sold it off privately. A Suzuki GS850 its replacement, the wife insisting _ that we needed a bit more capacity and a shaftie to do some serious Continental touring. The GS didn't seem any faster than the CB, though it needed less effort on the throttle to achieve the same velocity.

The handling was surprisingly good with none of the viciousness I'd half expected from the shaft drive. The DOHC motor was made to pretty much the same standards as the defining Z1 and I had great faith in it. I was pleasantly surprised by the way it needed virtually no maintenance - the valves and carbs were always fine, the ignition electronic, leaving just the oil and filter changes to do every 2000 miles. Less if the bike was just used in town because the oil emulsified and I couldn't even see through the crud on the sight-glass!

Two long Continental cruises plus the usual commuting and weekend riding had their effect on the GS, which I almost thought of as a venerable friend. Mostly in the chassis which was the fastest rotting I'd ever experienced. Things like silencers fell off in less than 15000 miles, engine alloy became a real mess, as did the cast wheels, and don't even talk to me about the disc's calipers - I might turn violent. Many of the GS range share similar chassis components so there were plenty of cheap replacement parts - it was just all the hassle involved in getting the corroded old stuff off!

Eventually, I tired of fighting the elements and decided it was time to move on. The wife, with the birth of our daughter, had turned rather chilly towards motorcycles. Impressed with the GS's engine, and even its handling (but then what wouldn't impress after past horrors!) I happily bought a GS550 Katana. The gleaming, really immaculate, machine had only had one owner and done just 4500 miles. Had to be a good buy! Performance was almost as good as the 850 as it carried so much less mass and handling was the best I'd ever experienced on a Jap four, even if the comfort could go AWOL after half an hour.

I was surprised by the economy at 60-65mpg and annoyed by the quick wear chain drive and triple discs. The smoothness of the bike was up there with the CB400 four although the flat out top speed of 115mph was a bit disappointing for the claimed 60 horses. Finish was much better than the 850's, though the silencers were reduced to dust by 25000 miles. Because finances were tight, the GS was run on a shoestring budget for a few years, clocking up over 100000 miles in the process. The first bike I ever took around the clock! Sad - no, shattered - when I came out to the back garden to find the door off its hinges and the GS nowhere to be seen. That was the last I heard of it!

A couple of years went by in the car until my wife relented and let me buy a tatty Yamaha XJ750 that I immediately set upon and soon had painted and polished up nicely. A bit of an underrated four, the XJ, it had bags of power and torque, would do an easy 125mph and handled better than most eighties fours lacked the GS550's stability but was quicker through the bends. I got away with some outrageous manoeuvres with my new found enthusiasm for all things twowheeled! The wife often ended up screaming loudly! Too much madness led to an accident. I somehow survived but both the car (into whose side I'd ridden - I still haven't figured how he got there) and the bike were beyond salvage. The wife gave me a total earbashing but I think she loves me really! I didn't even bother trying to do anything for the XJ - it was too far gone. A pity, it was a neat old thing in its way.

The only bike the wife would let me buy, after that, was a Kawasaki Z400 four, a tired one at that. There simply wasn't the acceleration to get myself into trouble and despite its small capacity it needed the same effort as a 550 to throw around! After 4000 miles of total neglect - it wouldn't rev high enough to bounce the valves - the camchain snapped! The tensioner was always a bit dodgy on these models (especially the similar 500/550 fours) and it had stuck, causing the camchain to attack the engine alloy - the added noise drowned out by the normal rattles.

A used camchain and tensioner later, I was back on the road but it couldn't be called fun. After much pleading with the wife  was allowed to buy something a little bit bigger. She hit the roof when I rolled up on a big old Suzuki 1100 Katana! Just standing still it looked bloody dangerous!

A fast old bruiser that didn't really get into the action until there was at least a ton on the clock, unlike other Suzuki's of that era it had quite frightening handling! But then I probably shouldn't have been trying to break through the ton-fifty barrier. It sure tunes up the nervous system sitting atop 550Ibs of heavy metal that might explode into a wild speed wobble without any warning! It didn't like ton-plus curves either, wanted to go into the old shake, rattle and roll routine. Still, after the past hacks it was one hell of a buzz.

Held on to the Suzuki for nearly a year, did 19000 miles despite awful comfort - the wife used to go hyper after half an hour on the pillion perch. Fuel was around 45mpg, not bad going for such a big brute. Top speed - more than 150mph but I couldn't keep a grip on the bars to find out! Reliability was total, as you'd expect from a Suzuki mill. Expenses included four lots of front disc pads, three chain and sprocket sets (the wheelies, I think...) and four pairs of Metz tyres! Those costs were more or less covered when | sold on at a nice fat profit!

Next in line, an XJ900. Old but low mileage, fond memories of the XJ750 made me overlook the stories about speed wobbles - couldn't be as bad as the Katana, could it? As it happens, yes! Despite having done only 12000 miles, the engine vibrated away harshly, never found a smooth spot in the rev range. It was at its best, acceleration-wise, between 80 and 125mph, in top gear. I could've hae fun playing with the throttle had not the bars leapt back and forth from lock to lock every time the speedo touched 85mph. I spent a while experimenting with the tyre pressures, tightening down chassis bolts and making sure wheel alignment was perfect but the chassis didn't seem to have enough weight over the front wheel, the handlebar mounted half fairing having little resistance when it was caught out by the airstream. Even a set of new tyres didn't help.

The obvious solution was to dump the fairing. I decided a modern headlamp smaller and lighter - would also help. This left a mess of wiring with nowhere to go so I had to rewire the bike to get most of the wiring away from the front end - it's surprising how much junk manufacturers insist on hiding in inappropriate places. That done I was annoyed to find the amount of wind blast coming off the front end, the quarter fairing much more effective than it looked.

Now the speed wobble came in at 95mph instead of 85mph. An effective top speed of 90mph was incredibly boring. I deemed a set of ace-bars - get more weight over the front wheel - the answer. I actually bought a set of used adjustable Jota-style bars - had the choice of a similar upright riding position to the stock XJ or having my head down in the clocks.

I started off at the most extreme setting, which judging by the mass on my wrists was certainly putting a lot more weight over the front end. The speed wobble came in at 115mph! Even more vicious than normal but that was probably the extra speed. This was still a bit too slow but a step in the right direction. New swinging arm and steering head bearings were added next, a bit of a tussle with the former but! got there in the end. That all added up to reasonable stability up to 125mph, when the motor was, anyway, gasping for breath. But only with an extreme setting on the clip-ons and on smooth, straight roads.

Bumpy bends, the bike really didn't feel safe above 90mph! Smooth bends it went all queasy after the ton-ten and backing off the throttle had the shaft drive reacting in a frenzy, though it wasn't a problem at slower speeds. Combined with the vibes, it was the kind of cycle that communicated its progress in a mad kind of way that you either liked or hated.

I was beginning to actually like the bike after about two months of getting used to it when I had another crash! This was getting to be a habit! Blasting the XJ through Central London traffic that was moving at a rabid pace, the front brake faltered during a bit of the old cut and thrust. The twin discs were normally heavy stoppers but this time, for some reason, they didn't work half as well as they should've. I tried explaining this to the ancient in the taxi but he seemed to be having some kind of fit and I felt lucky that the force of the collision had distorted the doors into their frames! I'd nearly been thrown over the bars and landed on the petrol tank with a thump! The front wheel was neatly shattered into several pieces, making it impossible for me to do a runner.
 

Amazingly, what I'd always thought of as flimsy forks didn't actually bend. The cops, when they turned up, were bored with the whole show, no carnage for them to mull over. Luckily, I had my documents on me. The accident wasn't far from a breakers so I got them to give me a hand. Kind chaps let me have a new front wheel for twenty notes and even let me use their tools. I took that as a hint to get shot of the bike before it killed me.

I was doing the rounds of the dealers when I saw something different - a Yamaha FXZ750 Fazer. One look was all it took for me to fall for the 3000 mile import. A not exactly generous trade-in deal for the rather rough looking XJ but I didn't give a damn, the HP would take care of the cost. The Fazer was the old FZ750 in street clothes with a drag racer look and gearing suited to beating everything else in the traffic light GP.

After the XJ it felt miraculously smooth, supremely stable and much faster accelerating. Almost snapped my head off my shoulders the first time I gave it some serious welly! Even the wife was quite excited by the hulking monster - until she found out how much I was paying every month! We were so taken by it we quickly did a round Britain jaunt, about 2000 miles over a long weekend with plenty of mixed riding - the Fazer coped pretty well, only struggling with ton-plus cruising - or rather, that was me struggling to maintain some kind of grip on the bars.

Great bike! Someone else thought so too, after three weeks it was nicked from outside a shop I'd gone into. The insurance just about covered what I owed on the HP. It had done about 40mpg, didn't use any oil and was quite happy in the city cut and thrust as well as on the back roads. | was quite keen to find another one but the only one I saw was a very tired 50000 miler - just didn't have the sap!

A bank loan produced the funds to buy a newish Honda CB750 Seven-Fifty. I was taken by its looks but disappointed by its lack of go. Despite having DOHC's it seemed slower than the original 750 four if much more sophisticated and better handling. It was also one of the most comfortable and relaxed fours I'd ever ridden, and if it lacked much by way of top end power it didn't need an excess of effort on the gearbox to run along in the 60-90mph range in top gear.

For some reason, it turned out to be an UJM with lots of character and I did a happy 24000 miles in the next couple of years. Stupidly, I was so impressed with the way the engine whirred away and didn't seem to need any maintenance that I neglected oil changes - for something like 15000 miles. I can't say why this happened as I'd been pretty good with” the maintenance on most of my bikes... I must've been reading all the tales of destruction testing in the UMG! The upshot of that neglect was knocking main bearings! The thick oil trick allowed me to trade the bike in for an older but lower mileage (14700 mile) CBX750 - I wasn't too out of pocket. This is the best four I've ever owned, Though it shared the same basic engine as the Seven-Fifty, they felt entirely different. The CBX had bags more power right through the range with a top end urge that was as good as the Fazer's. The chassis managed to be both stable and quick turning whilst the half fairing gave sufficient protection to get away with 120mph plus cruising. True, at those kind of speeds the vibration was pronounced and the fuel disappeared at nearly 30mpg - against an average of 50mpg. It was also a touch weighty for slinging around town but I soon became used to it. I would have liked to have the CBX engine in the CB750's chassis.

So far so good - 9000 miles of enjoyable biking, no near misses and the feeling that the motor's one tough bugger - and I do 1000 mile oil changes! Apart from the Z400 (which to be fair was nearly dead when I bought it) I've found lots of fun in all the UJM's I've owned even if a couple of them were near suicidal at speed. What next? I quite fancy the latest big bore Yamaha but don't tell the wife!

Mark Thompson

 

Despatches: further adventures in Shit City

A lot has been written about the madness of despatching in Central London but I've been doing it for a few years, have got into the flow of it to the extent that it's just become another part of my life. No great trauma, not even that exciting. Just another way to make loads of money!

The main chore's finding a bike that's up to the sheer nastiness of Central London roads. That's not as easy as it sounds. I've been through them all - ratty C90's to prime meat 1100 Zephyrs. Well not all, I always draw the line at the replicas. Not because I don't appreciate the sheer buzz of their performance - I ain't that old! - but because I refuse to ruin my back. Some poor DRs stagger off them at the end of a day's riding absolutely bent out of shape, wincing with the sheer pain of it.

I've yet to come across a small commuter that can make the grade in Central London. I had great hopes for a Z200 that had somehow survived a couple of owners with less than 10000 miles on the clock. An immaculate little bike. Took two months to reduce it to rubble. The chassis bearings went first, then the suspension, then the brakes and then the engine seized up! Somewhere along the line, the pot-holes had bent the forks and one of the shocks never really wanted to work. Scrap value, about a fiver.

A C90 went on a similar course of self-destruction but at least it sported a laudable sixty thou on the clock! The handling and gearchange on this were bad enough to have me off a few times, but the chassis seemed quite tough, taking the sides off numerous cars and kneecapping the odd meandering pedestrian! The engine turned molten one very hot summer's day (was there only one?), seized solidly with a large clunking noise. By then everything in the chassis had turned so marginal that I just dumped it in the gutter!

Much shorter lived were a CG125, RS100, RXS100 and GS125. The RS just rusted to an early death as I rode along on it, nothing I could do to stop the rot had the last laugh by dropping a match in its petrol tank! Boom! The RXS was so slow on 25000 mile old bore and piston that I often thought I was going backwards and was nearly crushed by numerous converging cages. By 30000 miles it was going the same way as the RS so I traded it in. The CG's chassis didn't have a hope over the London roads though I failed to blow up the motor with 40000 miles on the clock. The GS was better than most commuters but come 30000 miles both engine demise and chassis rot ruled!

The big fours were too heavy and slow turning for Central London; anything over 650cc too excessive to make the grade, though I have fond memories of terrorising the traffic on a Kawa 1100 Zephyr and Suzuki GS1000. The good part was that the engines could take the abuse and there was enough mass to smooth out the worst of the road bumps, even if their sheer width made for some dicey manoeuvres when going for the narrower traffic gaps.

No, much better to go for bikes in the 250 to 650cc range. I rarely keep a machine for more than six months - I like to have something left to sell on to the civilians. Destruction testing has its place but not when you're trying to make a living, though most maintenance does boil down to very regular oil and filter changes.

One of my favourite bikes was an import Kawasaki 400 Zephyr - I've owned three - out of which I manage to get at least 50000 miles before anything serious goes wrong. They need a bit of throttle action to get anywhere fast but that's not the end of the world. The finish is the one weak area, a winter's worth of riding can leave them looking a bit ratty but they do clean up splendidly if a bit of effort's put in. Spraying almost everything in WD40 before the winter is an excellent preventative manoeuvre even if it has a magnetic attraction for road grime - it all wipes off come March to reveal surprisingly good paint, alloy and chrome.

The other thing I like about the smaller fours is their lower running costs - 15000 miles from the cheaper tyres, 10000 miles from the front pads, 55-60mpg and engines that don't need any serious work, save for the all important oil changes, for tens of thousands of miles. After 50000 miles things become a bit dodgy silencers start to fall off, chassis bearings go and even the camchain starts to rattle; much better to trade in or sell on before serious expense looms.

One of the most unexpected bikes to work well in the DR hustle was an old but immaculate low mileage import SR650 - yes, | do like Kawasaki's and have also done huge mileages on the GT550/750's but too boring to mention here - they have had too much DR press already!

| wasn't expecting miracles from the SR but its upright stance and good midrange power made it a very relaxed ride in the madness of Central London. Other DR's found it hilarious but it was as fast through the traffic as any other four I've owned. Put 75000 miles on the clock before I felt any intimations of demise was that the main bearings rumbling? It did need chassis bearings every 30000 miles, or so, and I even found some hairline cracks in the cast wheels just before I sold it! Old Jap alloy does go rather dubious!

Some Jap fours that didn't work very well - Honda CBX550 (kept killing its camchains and seizing its brakes), Suzuki 400 Bandit (never ran like the carburation was right and would sulk in the wet), Yamaha XJ600 (good reputation but mine wouldn't start when the engine became too hot), Kawasaki GPz750 (sharp power delivery in the wet had the back end fishtailing all day long) and Honda CB750 Seven-Fifty (ultra high miler that would seize up if the engine got too hot and was used in anger).

It was never a great disaster when | found something that didn't really work, always possible to sell on or trade in without losing too much money. More an interesting learning experience. At the moment, I'm whizzing about on a GPz500 twin, felt like a bit of a change and have got 20000 miles out of it without a murmur of discontent. Nice enough bike, once used to the gear change and low speed drive-line lash. By the time you read this will have moved on again.

Talking with other guys in the DR game, most of them have got into the right frame of mind, manage to ride in a relaxed yet fast manner that is at odds with many of the tales told in the UMG and elsewhere. There are mad nutters, of course, but they don't last that long unless they have the luck of the Irish and reflexes that Fogarty would envy.

HJ

BMW R100RS

After the first 1000 miles I became just a little bored with the R100S. With 56000 miles under its wheels, it was a cantankerous old beast but I'd soon learnt to cope with its gearbox, reactive shaft drive and lurching under anything other than perfectly modulated throttle and clutch hands. It would brown-nose its way up to about 120mph then go as extinct as a dodo. The back end weaved, the front end fluttered - even on nicely smooth and straight motorways - whilst the motor thrummed away like the small-ends were on the way out.

I could hardly expect perfection as it had only cost 700 sovs. From a few feet away it looked pretty good but up close there were a lot of minor oil leaks, scuffed paint and ruined alloy. The amount of wear in the shaft drive was almost unbelievable - for the first few days I couldn't believe anything that churned away so badly would actually get me anywhere. But time and experience does funny things to the mind - after a while it didn't feel nearly so bad! .

The first on the road mishap occurred when I hit the side of a car. I was going for a gap in the traffic which tightened up when the jerks on either side decided to relieve the boredom of the day. I chose the expensive looking Jaguar, rammed the cylinder head into that. Made a very loud crunching, tearing noise and took off a large area of sheet metal. There were, admittedly, a few new scratches on the cylinder head and a couple of more cracks in the fairing but they weren't really noticeable. The Jag's owner was besides himself with rage; nothing with what he must've felt when he found out I'd given the old owner's name and address - the insurers won't pay out unless the other party makes a claim and his six month old car looked like a write-off to me.

The BMW shrugged off that accident but the next one was a bit more serious. I have to note, at this point, that the mufflers were totally devoid of baffles, the combined exhaust noise and engine rattles making it sound like a tank running over dustbins - so how anyone could ignore its presence or claim not to see it, I don't know. Anyway, this guy in a Metro did just that, streaming right across my path. The ancient Brembo's weren't the best discs in the world and even a desperate grasp on the lever failed to produce much by way of retardation.

Not surprisingly, the BMW ploughed into the side of the Metro. Went in so deep the whole car ended up buckled. The BMW's front wheel was dented and the forks bent, as well as some very deep cracks in the fairing. A used wheel, straightened forks and lots of plastic welding sorted out the crate, wouldn't like to think how much the insurers had to pay out on the car. By the way, it's possible to ride a BMW with dented front wheel, banana forks and flapping fairing - but definitely no kind of fun.

These two accidents happened within a fortnight of each other, making me wonder if the bike was jinxed. A feeling confirmed when ten days later I fell off for no real reason. It was a laid back country road ramble and I'd gently steered the BMW into this long left-hander when the front wheel twitched and the next thing I knew! was eating dust. It was one of those hot summer days that melts tarmac, the BMW's cylinder heads leaving large indentations in the surface, though it didn't stop large bits of plastic breaking off from the fairing. I also did in my knee and elbow, getting a coating of tarmac deep into the cuts. Ouch! I decided I'd better fit some second-hand forks rather than rely on the straightened ones - they obviously weren't repaired properly, as that's the only reason I can think of for the accident. It didn't do that trick again, anyway!

The engine became so rattly that I thought I'd better do the valve clearances - miles out. There was some wear on the tappets, or something, as it was very difficult to set the clearances precisely, had to compromise on a touch too tight to make up for the looseness on another part of the cam! I should've taken the clutch out as it was a bit on the wild side but that seemed like too much hard work for too little gain - I even began to like the way it'd vigorously lurch forwards! After spending about two hours getting the valve clearances as near perfect as they were going to be, found it made absolutely no difference to the noise levels or the performance. Didn't touch them again.

Expecting the worst, I was relieved when the motor just kept running and clattering away, as if it'd worn as much as it was ever going to and would thunder along until the next century - at the very least. Three months into my ownership I experienced total battery failure. Came out in the morning, completely extinct. This isn't uncommon on Beemers, especially during the winter. A small car battery was force-fitted but that lasted less than three days. Fearing the worst, | was relieved (again!) to find that it was just a connector that had fallen apart. Whacked that back together, there was a big bang when I tumed on the ignition. Two of the loose wires had burnt out their insulation on the engine, welded themselves together, shorting out the whole charging system. It was so well designed, though, that the only damage was a blackened fuse holder.

Whilst on the electrics, compared to a similarly aged Japanese multi the lights, switches and horn were all miles better. Especially main beam, which was such a dazzler on country roads that it made cagers nervously switch to dip rather than try to blind me as in the past. The horn made pedestrians leap out of their clothes, could be heard even over all the engine and exhaust noise.

The other area where the BMW was well ahead of the game, ergonomics - the narrow, flat bars took a little getting used to but I fitted the bike really well which is half the battle. I could do 200 miles in one sitting, no hassle. Would've done more but the tank was almost empty by then. Fuel could go down to as low as 35mpg and oil was also on the heavy side had to keep a careful eye on both.

The full fairing and panniers made it a really convenient bike to ride in all weathers, short or long distances. Even at 120mph I found the speed a bit lacking and although there was plenty of midrange torque acceleration lacked a certain rigour. Despite all its character it was a bike I soon became bored with but was more or less forced to keep riding it as nothing better turned up at a reasonable price. This lack of outright enthusiasm resulted (karma, man) in a couple of blown tyres (nearly down to the carcass) and shaft drive joints that were making heavy rumbling noises - don't think they had seen any lubricant for a couple of years.

With those irritations sorted, a dealer finally took pity on me, offered me 1300 quid off a naked 1200 Bandit. Don't know where he went to school but I liked the kind of arithmetic they taught! 

AP

 

Norton 850 Commando

Long term readers of the UMG will recall that what passed for a youth was mis-spent on an outrageously tuned Norton Commando. The consequent number of weekends wasted rebuilding it too numerous and therefore embarrassing to mention here. Heavy tuning and longevity can not be said in the same breath when applied to a Commando. Even the factory found this out to its cost when they tried it on with the Combat. By the time the 850 was introduced most of the big Norton twin's problems had been addressed Superblend main bearings, electronic ignition and a mild state of tune the main ingredients to instilling everlasting happiness.

Think of a Commando as a long-legged tourer, with a relaxed 80-90mph gait, a hefty lump of mid-range torque, firm handling and reasonably free of vibes (if the vernier Isolastic update’s been done). A good Bonnie arguably handles better but just doesn't have the pace for long distance work and is an altogether revvier device at the price of some devastating vibration. A good A10 handles as well but lacks the sheer thumping torque, feels nowhere near as happy as a Commando at 90mph.

The Norton has some of the feel of the old style BMW twins - R80 or even R100 - but has better low speed running and vastly superior handling. On the Norton, messing up a line in a corner isn't a death sentence; on the BMW's the way the shaft drive reacts leaves the rider unsure whether he's coming or going! Unlike the BMW's, though, the Norton doesn't feel happy doing more than the ton, vibes break through the Isolastic system, the mill almost as vintage in its feel as it is in having a separate gearbox and engine. The former, by the way, should be nicely slick and rarely gives much trouble.

Although an effective cruising speed of 90mph seems a bit miserly by modem standards, given the reality of police vigilance it's spot on what you can expect to get away with on modern motorways. Name another British twin that can survive droning along for hours at a time at such velocities (the big five gallon Interstate model brilliant at such insurgency) and not end up vibrated into a million separate pieces? OK, some re-engineered Triumphs or BSA might just make the pace but they would be pushing their limits. Anything original, from the sixties or seventies, would soon be in big trouble.

Having lauded the Norton for its abilities on the motorway, it should also be noted that it's a fine bit of tackle for those sweeping A-roads and the better back lanes. There's little need to hustle on the excellent gearbox even when running the absurdly tall gearing that the long stroke OHV vertical twin mill can pull - just let the engine work its magical mid-range torque and pull the bike smoothly through the bends. For sure, any looseness in the Isolastics will have the old dear shuffling around, but as long as it's set up right you can feel its ancestry stretching back to the trend setting Featherbed frame. Run it on ruined tyres, it'll still feels as if on rails, a sure sign that weight distribution and steering geometry are spot on.

These days, then, go for the mildest engine configuration you can find. Not just for the longevity - in such a state the valvegear usually needs doing around 25-30000 miles and the crank at fifty thou - but also because the torque is something to revel in. For sure, there's legions of tuning gear that will just about let the bike burn off a GPz500, but not only does engine life do a disappearing act, the vibes necessary to enjoy the admittedly compulsive high end power punch will do in your eyeballs and teeth!

The Isolastic system was a reasonable compromise for a factory that didn't want to build a new engine, which would've needed a balancer system of some sort, therefore making the bike that much heavier which would've meant quicker steering geometry and less stability. As it is, the Norton manages to blend good basic stability, reasonable fluidity in the bends and relative ease of riding in town (once used to the heavy clutch and brakes). Alas, the American market demanded more power and speed than the engine could be reasonably expected to produce, having its roots in the 500 twin, thus ruining Norton's reputation for good engineering! Even the Japanese are well aware of the benefits of low rev torque, though they have so far confined themselves to desperate attempts to unseat Harley as the cruiser king!

The Commando's place on modern roads is reflected in the sometimes obscene asking prices for bikes. I've seen some poorly running 750s up for five grand, though they were well polished and shone under the showroom's lamps. I can just see some 40/50 year old wandering in, going all nostalgic and riding out on the grievously overpriced heap. Nicely sorted 850s on the private market go for around four grand, some cheaper, some more expensive. A good mate offered me one for three and a half that I was a total fool to turn down, as it had all the serious mod's done and ran like a very svelte steam engine! Perhaps I've done too many miles on Commando's in the past to have an excess of enthusiasm for them today but they are worth a serious look! 

Johnny Malone

 

Travel Tales: Scottish Runs

THE GLENMORE RUN: This is a good first run of the year, as well as all summer, as it consists of decent roads, bonny scenery, and suits any bike. It will take you most of the day to complete including stops for a beer and a burger. Take the A941 out of Elgin and at Craigellachie take the A95 to Avimore. If you want to stop for a coffee there's a good little cafe on the right with its own car-park right by the main road as you go through the town centre (nice cakes!). If you feel inclined the steam railway's worth a visit as you can go for a trip on a real steam train!

Oh yeah, and the ski lift's open all year round. Full leathers slide really well over the snow, just make like a penguin down the slope! Unfortunately the saddo skiers sometimes take offence, but what the fuck they don't own the slopes! From Aviemore head south down the A9 to Kingussie where you pick up the A86 and head towards Spean Bridge. At Spean Bridge take the A82 north. This is a grand road and you can really let it rip here. It's got some really good sweeping comers and long straights, but keep a lookout for Willie The Weekend Driver cos' he's in his own little sad old world and won't see you!

At Fort Augustus you have a choice of continuing on the A82, or taking the B862, up either side of Loch Ness. The A82 is faster while the B862 is more scenic, if taking the B862 don't forget the B852 detour which goes right by the water's edge. If you are up on holiday do them both. There's boat hire if you want which can be a hoot if there's a few of you. Oh, and don't forget to keep a look out for Nessie (in your dreams!). 

When you get to Inverness just take the A96 which takes you back to Elgin, giving an approximate distance of 220 miles. I remember one memorable run, I had a Rickman CR1000 at the time, when my mate Martin on his GPz750 and I managed to trash brand new front tyres chasing each other one sunny Sunday afternoon on that run. Another time a whole bunch of us took a boat out on Loch Ness, broke down, and were stranded in the middle of the loch for 3 hours.

THE SKYE RUN: This is basically a round trip from Elgin to Skye which is best taken at max chat. Unless you happen to be touring when I recommend that you go via Skye itself and spend a few days looking around and the like. You will find the lock-ins which regularly occur in the remotest pubs a great laugh, with all sorts going on (and I mean all sorts!).

From Elgin take the A96 to Inverness, then the A9 towards Tore. Just before Tore take the A835 to Garve then onto the A832. This road followed by the A890 to Kyle Of Lochalsh is a thrasher's delight, as well as being quite pretty. A good place to stop for a coffee, or a beer, and some grub. The pub just over the bridge does good food (I personally recommend the Macaroni Cheese & Chips, washed down with a pint of Heavy - Mmmm!).

For the trip back take the A87 to Invergarry followed by the A82 to Spean Bridge. Here pick up the A86 to Kingussie, then the AQ North to Avimore. By this time you will probably be hungry again, so why not stop for a fish supper in Aviemore! After that it's just a quick 50 mile thrash from there to Elgin which should give you a total of around 300 miles. By that time you will most likely be shagged out, but no doubt have a wry smile on your face if the weather's been good!

THE TOTALLY BLADDERED AT BRACORA RUN: This is a weekend job, only recommended to those with a stout liver and little regard for their health, or the law. To fully enjoy this run the weather needs to be good and you have to camp over at least 2 nights. Plus you will need a rack to carry the slabs of beer'n’mussels (explanation later)! Of all the runs here I reckon this is the best laugh, covering both thrashing, and drunken debauchery.

Before you start make sure that at least one of you has a rack fitted, and bungee as many slabs of beer on to it as you can. This is to see you through the first night, as you will arrive late if travelling on Friday night after work ! I remember one memorable occasion some years ago when I went there with Oz, Freekie (RIP), Mark & Fedra and ‘Al-The-Bastard’. Oz was on his NSR400, Freekie his 250 Gamma, Mark 'n’ Fedra a GPz550 and Al-The-Bastard was with me on the back of my VFR along with 3 slabs and our tent. Unfortunately Mr. Honda did not really design the VFR for such heavy and ill-placed loads and the poor old VFR wheelied most of the way there, to the great amusement of the others!

Al-The-Bastard hung on with nerves of steel, well not really... he started on our massive carry-out and by the time we got to Bracora he was a giggling rubber man. The only reason that he hadn't fallen off was because he had somehow managed to get entangled in the bungees holding on the beer & tent!

Anyway, head out of Elgin towards Inverness, and on reaching Inverness head south on the A82. About 8 miles past Spean Bridge turn right onto the A830 towards Mallaig. About 2 miles before Morar take the road to Bracora. It's down this road that you should start to look for somewhere to camp. Preferably by Loch Morar on the raised beach. We use a spot which is nice and secluded and fine for wild parties by the tents! When you have found a decent site and pitched your tents party on!

If the weather's good and you do things right the next two days will become an alcoholic haze! There are plenty of good pubs in Morar and Mallaig, all of which are biker friendly. We also discovered that the old bill are pretty laid back as well, not minding us riding around Mallaig helmetless in the hot summer's sun. 

Another thing which you should also try is the mussels. Go to the beach at Mallaig and get as many of them as you can from around the rocks. You will need to wade in waist deep, but seeing as you will be bladdered you'll find this a hoot! To cook them I recommend boiling them in beer! Honest it tastes spot on. Don't eat any that don't open up though, otherwise you will spend the next few days on the crapper! Also if there are any anglers by the Loch try to get some trout off of them. These also taste real good poached in beer!

The trip home is just the same way as you got there, although probably a lot slower as you will all no doubt be hung over and exhausted, but with a smile from ear to ear! The approx. distance for that run (not that it's really important!) is around 270 miles.

THE CABRACH RUN: This is a good run to blow the cobwebs off. Just the thing for a Sunday morning when you will no doubt have a horrendous hangover from the previous night's shenanigans! This run is ideally suited to a big trailie due to the condition of the roads and the frequent opportunity to go off road for a bit of a blast over the heath, failing that any old superbike will do.

I wouldn't suggest taking your R1 or Blade for a mad thrash on this run as you are likely to rattle it to bits over the pot-holes and ridges in the roads. Also watch out for the odd deer, and Farmer Giles who doesn't give a shit about anything except getting his crappy old tractor and bogie to the next field leaving mud everywhere on the way. You will also probably come across the occasional pissed up GT driver who thinks he's Alan Prost, and is determined that you won't pass!

Don't forget to take your waterproofs, as it's been known to snow on this road in summer (although the last time was in the late 70's)! Anyway, take the A941 out of Elgin to Dufftown, then just follow the signs to Rhynie, over the Cabrach. As soon as you leave the town just open her up, and give it max thrash. Remember there are quite a few blind bends, and gravely comers, and if you are unlucky enough to wipe out, you might not be found for days!

When you get to Rhynie head to Alford (where there is a pretty good motor museum if you're interested) then on to the A96 via Insch. It's then just a straight blast up the A96 back to Elgin. Watch out for speed traps on the A96! All in all around 100 miles.

ROUND THE COAST RUN: This takes 5 days or so in the summer if you want to really enjoy yourself, and is by far the best way to explore the Highlands. Try and explore all the back roads, pubs and the like. There are plenty of campsites and B&B on route, most of the pubs are really friendly. There really isn't set route, just a general one, on which your can take the odd detour to explore. I would suggest a good OS map, which will show you all of the back roads, historical sites, campsites and the like (try Tourist Information as well).

You can even do a bit of hill walking if you like, but bear in mind that the weather can change in an instant. So don't go hiking in trainers, T-shirt 'n' shorts unless you want to become tomorrow's headlines, and really piss-off Mountain Rescue in the process!

Take the A96 out of Elgin towards Inverness then head north to Thurso on the A9. There are plenty of things to see on the way so take it easy and take a couple of days. Then head east along the A836. | would stop off at Tongue as it's ideally situated to explore the North Coast. It's then just a gentle meander down the West coast. Try to keep near the sea, just heading inland for the odd excursion. Definitely try the A838 down past Loch Shin as well as the A837 and A835, all of which are really good biking roads, with nice scenery to boot.

If you have the time, take the Ferry to the Hebrides as the scenery there is unreal, and the locals really make bikers feel welcome. There are also a lot of lock-ins as well! On the way back to Elgin try to take in the A82 past Loch Ness, just to finish things off with a good blast! The distance you should expect to travel on this trip will be in excess of 600 miles, but well worth it cos' you will really get a feel of what the Highlands are like. 

Tim Fowler

Hacking: Z200, Dnepr outfit and 500 Bullet

The hack: Z200 (Not so much a Trusty Steed, as a Dependable Donkey!). I first saw the Zed around 7 or 8 years ago when looking for a second bike, but at 500 quid it was far too dear for a V reg. Around 4 years ago when looking for a winter hack to use when the snow got too much for the Trident I spied an ad in the local rag for a Z200. Turned out it was the same bike I'd looked at all those years ago, except now it had changed hands as the old bloke who used to own it had popped his clogs and his nephew had now inherited it.

The guy had not run the Z for 4 years and was selling to help finance the restoration of his TR7. It was advertised at 350 quid, but when I turned up it refused to start and I picked it up for 200 notes, hoping that the reason it refused to start was the stale petrol in the tank which smelt like paint thinner!

When I got it home it started first time after flushing out the tank and cleaning the carb - bargain or what? Anyway since buying the bike it has been totally reliable. Getting me to work in the shittiest weather imaginable, everything from 2ft snow drifts to raging floods! Nothing's ever gone wrong with it apart from the usual consumables, and it only let me down once due to me putting in too cold a plug. Averages 75mpg, chain and sprockets last around 13000 miles while the rear tyre lasts 15000 miles, I've never worn out a front tyre in 20000 miles.

Pads also last forever probably due to the wacky cable operated disc, and I'm still on the original rear drum shoes! When I had to replace the head bearings I got some from a push-bike shop for 3 quid, check it out it's far cheaper. I also picked up a new pair of shocks and a seat cover for a tenner at an auto-jumble. The oil is changed every month, the filter every three, and costs sod all really. I also got most of a spare engine with the bike, so I should be able to keep it running for a few years yet!

Miillennium Bullet: the rebirth of a Enfield India 500 Bullet! | got a bit of a hankering for a big Brit single after borrowing a mate's Beesa, and ended up travelling from Elgin to the Isle Of Sky to pick up an Enfield 500 Bullet. On getting it home and running it for a while I discovered why they are so cheap, because the engineering's shite!

Over the last 2 years I've made that many mods that it's virtually a new bike, in fact it should be fully finished by the year 2000 so I'm going to call it a Millennium Bullet! I'm not exactly sure which model I've got, it's got a disc front end (Brembo no less!), and a black and chrome tank. The ‘Deluxe’ perhaps?

Anyway, here are all the useful mods that you can carry out to transform the Enfield Indian 500 Bullet from a 65mph/70mpg oil burning, lumbering behemoth, into the ‘Millennium Bullet’: a 100mph/85mpg full of torque, reliable, stonking single.

Firstly, before I started, I looked around to gather as much info about real Enfields as I could. Old ‘Bacon's' guide proved yet again to be a goldmine of information. I also found out about a company called RED Engineering (Hi Reg), which has a good rep for gas-flowing, unleaded conversions and the like. Burton Bike Bits also proved to be the cheapest and most comprehensive source of spares.

My first tip is don't buy gaskets, make your own and save a fortune. Just go into any decent motor factors and buy a selection of gasket paper. Then get hold of a modelling knife and bob's-your-uncle, cheap gaskets. When making the holes for bolts and oil ways use old bits of hydraulic pipe sharpened at one end, and case hardened, you then also have a set of punches for sod all.

The first thing I did was to sort out the rolling chassis. Out went the rear shocks in favour of a set of Hagons. I also rebuilt the front end, re-valving it and using heavier oil to suit. Spacers were also put in to pre-load the springs. What a difference that made alone!

Next | junked the original dual ‘plank’ and rear pegs for a Lynsett sprung saddle. No passengers on this bike, matey! Mmm, comfy or what? | then totally rewired the bike, putting in fuses for all the main circuits, as before there was only one for the battery line. I also relocated the battery, fusebox and ignition switch in the side panels to tidy things up a bit. With the wiring sorted and a lecky ignition fitted not only did the bike start and run a lot better, but all the lights were brighter thanks to the correct amperage wiring and decent connectors.

The bars were also changed for flatter, wider items, instead of the fuckin' rancid semi-custom jobs that were originally fitted as standard! I also fitted a pair of stainless guards as the quality of the chrome on the original items led me to believe that the chrome had been applied to rusty old steel by a one armed blind man (who with his whacked out brother seemed to have assembled the rest of the bike!).

The engine and gearbox were obviously redesigned and built by Billy Bodgit! Why were all the original bushes made of steel and looked like they had been machined on a Black & Decker with a trowel? And why was there more slack in the bearings than a Liverpudiian prostitute's pud? | ended up replacing the lot with quality British items (whatever became of the Great British Empire?).

The gearbox worked fine once rebuilt with a bit of TLC. Next came the engine. Not too bad really once all the bearings were replaced, until I looked carefully at the barrels and head that is! The barrel turned out to be porous and as it was cast iron was only really fit for the bin. Never mind I got hold of an alloy barrel 'n' piston really cheap from Burton Bike Bits.

While checking out the head and carb I discovered the reason for the piss poor performance and fuel consumption. The casting was that restrictive at the exhaust port that your couldn't even get your pinky up by the valve stem, plus the carb was also a weenie 28 the same size that Enfield fitted to the 350.

I must admit at this point I took the easy way out and sent the head off to RED Engineering, who did a splendiferous job of gas-flowing the head to suit a 34mm Amal, which is what Royal Enfield fitted to their works machines. I also had a lead-free conversion done as it only cost an extra 35 quid. While the head was off I also fitted alloy rocker assemblies as opposed to the original shitty steel ones.

With the engine back in the frame I fitted an original Royal Enfield exhaust system, as opposed to the Indian scaffolding pipe, along with a Goldie silencer (silencer being a bit of a misnomer!), which together with a K&N filter enabled the engine to breathe properly. Fuck me, what a difference!

Once run in the bike will now pull cleanly to 100mph (re-geared), while getting 85mpg at around 50-60mph. Not only that but it now goes round corners as opposed to trying to go through the nearest hedgerow! I guess at a rough estimate, including buying the bike, I've spent around 1800 quid. This may seem like a lot (well it does to me!) but I've ended up with what is really a new bike, built to my specifications. Alll I've got to do now, as the dry run is finished, is to strip it all down again and paint it. Oh well, as long as it's ready for the millennium!

Dnepr outfit (Neval to his friends): If ever a bike was built for the home mechanic (aka bodge artist) this is it. If anything breaks just bodge something else remotely similar to fit, or make a new one! Remember the phrase: You meet the nicest people on a Honda? Well, this could be adapted to: You meet the worlds best bodgers on a Dnepr! Or as they are known by those in the know, Neval, after the UK importers Neval Motorcycles (Hi Alan).

My association with these 1930's dinosaurs started years ago when a mate of mine used to own a breakers in Rhynie in Aberdeenshire (Hi Pete). I got to know a few folk that owned them, all of whom had a bit of a twitch and were a bit out there. My first Neval outfit was a swap for an old Armstrong crosser in bits, a Primus stove and a pair of throw-over panniers, thank fuck it's still bartertown up here!

I was introduced (or was it indoctrinated) into the Neval culture when Pete, myself and a load of mates did a bit of charity work for Live Aid. We had a sponsored how-many-people-can-we-get-on-a-Neval-outfit-and-still-drive-it-across-the-car-park. We managed 27 (really!) people which apparently was a world record. At least we got a few hundred quid for charity and got on the telly as well!

Over the next year or so I got to know various strange characters who also owned Nevals, such as Malcolm Dobbie who used to build all sorts of Heath Robinson contraptions, far too weird to go into here (Alright, one example was a Honda C70 with a Tractor wheel grafted on to give better traction in the fields!). I also got to know Tom who's probably the only sane person that I know who's into Nevals, plus a bloody good engineer to boot (Sadist!).

I eventually sold the original outfit back to Pete as he needed it to get him to work. It eventually died a glorious death after a lorry accidentally tipped its load of scaffolding on to the outfit, mangling it almost beyond recognition. But it still ran, the hardy fucker! That was it until about a year ago when | needed to off-load an XR600 after one too many run-ins with the old bill, who had taken a strange dislike to me thundering through the town on the back wheel!

It was one night after far too much beer and the best part of a bottle of Jack Daniels, that I got out the old rose-tinted specs (I know you have a pair as well!), and decided to sell the XR and get another Neval outfit! Well, | phoned up Alan at Neval Motorcycles the very next morning, still half cut, and a deal was struck - my XR and a few quid for a shiny new 1930's Classic outfit.

I also went for the optional extra of the steel fairing! No doubt this delightful item had been designed by the Russian Army (who still use them) to protect Boris from stray gunfire! A week or so later Alan from Neval Motorcycles turned up on my doorstep and the deal was done.

Have you ever tried to ride a bike for 1500 miles at 35mph? That's how you run in a Neval. Fuckin' tedious or what but it gave me plenty of time to become re-accustomed to all their little foibles. Plus it also gave me time to iron out a few teething problems, all of which I'll hasten to add Alan sorted out promptly without any hassle whatsoever.

So how's it going now? Fine. There's hundreds of mods | could do to it if I wanted - Jag valve springs, A65 pistons, there's even a Hitachi alternator which also acts as a starter motor which can be grafted to fit! Plenty of things to keep me occupied in the workshop on those boring winter nights, when her indoors wants to do the ironing while watching Friends on the telly.

I'll tell you what, rose-tinted specs or not it's a fuckin’ hoot to own a Neval again. Thundering down the road, sounding like a cross between a steamroller and a tractor, scaring small children half to death and giving OAPs nostalgia attacks! Bridget, the misses, thinks it's a fuckin' hoot 'n' all, going in the chair laughing at all the saddos in their cars.

I'm now under strict orders to teach her to ride it. Shouldn't be any problem as she's already got her HGV and PSV! The biggest laugh so far was last June when we decided to get married at Gretna (Ouch! I didn't mean the getting married bit Bridget). Yes you guessed it, we turned up on the outfit (try riding a bike in a kilt!) along with a pink trike called Pinkie and various other bikes. What was even more of a gas was that the BBC filmed it all for a documentary on Gretna. When they heard about the Neval outfit, Pinkie the trike, and the fact that all the guests were in fancy dress they couldn't wait! It will be shown on the telly early next year, so keep a look out if you want a laugh! 

Tim Fowler

 

MZ 125ETZ

I was brought back to nasty old reality with the sudden lack of any rideable motorcycle and any spare dosh. Pleading sessions with various so-called friends followed until some sadistic bastard agreed to let me use his MZ 125 ETZ for a couple of weeks despatching. With friends like that who needs enemies? I mean, he had a perfectly good Honda CB500S that was just waiting for a pair of willing hands. Unfortunately, he was a keen reader of the UMG and knew what us lot get up to!

It has to be said that the ETZ was evidently styled by disgruntled communists desperate to get back at the company management. I can understand that the shape of the petrol tank has to be dictated, in part, by the cost of mass producing it but the ETZ’s effort surely isn't any cheaper to produce that something less awful looking. The motor was hung beneath the backbone frame in an unlikely manner and lacked any kind of Teutonic functionality. I was glad to be wearing a full-face helmet with a tinted visor, anyway.

The first shock came with the lack of an electric boot. The awkward kickstart needed a couple of prods, much fiddling with the choke and perfectly positioning of the throttle to get the old hack (56000 miler...) to rattle into life. The motor made an awful din and the ungainly exhaust emitted a tiresome yowl that immediately gave me a headache. First stop, Boots, for some ear-plugs. That bad.

I had to get there, first! The clutch was vicious, the gearchange imperious and the throttle only vaguely connected to the engine, judging by the lack of power that hit the back wheel and the amount of time it took to react. I managed a hop, skip and jump down the road, then the motor stalled for no sane reason I could thing of. Apparently, I'd managed to oil up the spark plug. Brilliant if you want to relive vintage days cleaning the spark plug by the side of the road - but not much use if you want to get somewhere fast!

That done, I managed to lurch off to the nearest town, buy the much needed ear-plugs, then put the MZ on to the motorway and head for London. 200 miles, one fuel stop (about 65mpg), four hours of flat out 70mph riding, I was back in dear old London. Actually impressed that the bike had got there without breaking down and that it was mostly pain-free! I could name much more modern and powerful bikes that might do the trip in an hour less but would've left my body in a wretched state.

Despatch riding in Central London was less enthralling, mostly down to the nasty gearchange and clutch, plus the plug oiling up a couple of times a day. In the end I bought a couple of spare plugs and got the change down to less than a minute, not that great an inconvenience. Handling was OK, braking barely adequate and comfort close to excellent. Economy was better than most DR hacks but the engine's thirst for oil more than made up for that.

Still, it not only survived two weeks of hardcore despatching, it also did the run back up the motorway flat out again and doesn't seem the least bit the worse for the wear and I'd even got the starting down to a nonchalant one kick affair. My mate wasn't the least bit surprised that I'd failed to destroy it - he'd been trying for years but the little sod just kept running and running!

Put a proper tank on it, sort the gearchange and clutch (might just be the wear and abuse but I doubt it) and you'd have a half decent little commuter that could also take on the weekend chores. 

Dick Lewis