Spada directly translated into English means Right Rapier. I can’t help feeling, however, that some of the original meaning has been lost along the way. A rapier is a kind of fencing foil, so presumably a right rapier is a superbly crafted and balanced example of its class, a weapon which won its owner many easy victories in the sport. The King of Swords, then. But even this is not a complete picture. Aside from the fact that fencing can be regarded as a rather exclusive and up-market sport, for the Italians there is bound to be a strong machismo connection too, and all bound up in a pathos for the golden age of seventeenth century Italy - go read Romeo & Juliet and see how they're all strutting about brandishing swords like wild west gun-slingers with revolvers.
A Moto Guzzi Spada, then, is supposed to be the pinnacle of Italian breeding, on the same sort of social level as say the thoroughly upmarket and British V1000 Hesketh. Leaving the Le Mans aside, it is Moto Guzzi’s flagship. The fact that, generally, Spadas can be bought quite cheaply second hand shows you how much of it all is just in a name. Or is it that just because we English have missed the point?
Anyway, to the bike in question. I bought a ‘79 model in 1982 for £1400. I was its third owner. The previous owner had the bike thoroughly serviced, but unfortunately it was done by a shop that knew nothing of Guzzis. The clue that all might not be tight was that it wouldn't idle cleanly, warm or hot. Tickover was too high, it just cut out if the carb screws were turned down. After a fast run it idled half way around the rev counter and the motor had to be killed immediately.
Three months later, cruising on the M6, speed suddenly falls from around 105 to 60mph, Partial engine seizure. The bike had been dumping its engine oil over my foot for god knows how many miles - perversely, there was still enough left to keep the oil warning light off. The short hoses which connect the crankcase breather collector box - built into the air filter assembly - had come off, as they were never properly secured on. With the hose off there’s nothing to restrict whatever comes out of the large, half inch bore crankcase breather tube, resulting in zilch crankcase pressure. Hence very little in the way cylinder bore lubrication. The top half of the right-hand cylinder - the most at risk - had totally dried up, and had the top edge of the piston crown welded to it.
Back home, thanks to the RAC, I decided to re-bore both cylinders so that at least the two oversize pistons would be in balance. The reason for the odd tickover was revealed when I took the carbs off - one of the studs had snapped off in the thread and two paper gaskets had been used instead of the proper Guzzi jobs. Once repaired and reassembled, I still had problems with the carbs. After cleaning them a few times the bike smoothed out a little but it was not quite right. The stock Guzzi air filter is a terrible device that collapses under the vacuum, so you have to stuff a coil of wire up the inside. S&B filters were an improvement. I later found that the crankcase breather control valve had been left out.
In November ‘83 the right-hand cylinder seized again, shortly after the motor had become very hot whilst stuck in traffic. Luckily, it could still be ridden home. Presumably weakened during the first seizure, the steel liner had cracked along half its length. Nikasil plated barrel and piston sets were purchased and I didn’t have any more engine problems after that. In the same year, the brakes were overhauled - the calipers usually need to be stripped and rebuilt after a while - including the addition of Goodridge hoses and a new linked system pressure control valve.
Uniquely, the Spada has an oversize rear caliper so that braking pressure is split 50/50 front and rear under moderate braking. The control valve limits pressure to the rear when heavy braking is used, the harder you press the more force that is concentrated on the front brake. This is supposed to make it impossible to lock the rear wheel when using the linked brake foot pedal. I thought the brakes were rather poor, until I discovered that the brakes were supposed to be exercised - used just in town there was insufficient usage to stop the discs rusting up.
Come 1984 some serious attempts were made to tidy things up. A higher T4 screen was fitted in an attempt to curb aggravating turbulence in the helmet area - the higher screen didn’t have all that much effect. An oil cooler sump extension (a larger sump with air channels) helped keep the engine cooler in hot weather (Guzzi engines get very hot very quickly). Later, the cylinder fins were painted matt black for the same reason.
A proper K&N air filter was fitted, at last the bike had a proper air filter system which included the much more sensible Le Mans style crankcase breather collector. The filters are washable and can be used time and time again. Two new silencers strained the bank balance at £70 each.
The bike was then promptly dropped on diesel oil in June. It was late evening; it was dark and the oil had been there since the early morning. I was only traversing a roundabout, straight across with hardly any leaning involved, but fortunately at only 20mph. There was no warning whatsoever, the bike simply went from underneath me, sliding down the road backwards whilst dragging me after it for 50 feet on me ear. This element of surprise was to cause years of psychological damage; the actual accident was neither here nor there, I am only now just relearning to lean bikes properly into corners again. When you drop a Guzzi the outermost extremity that cops it first is a spark plug. If it’s rideable afterwards this can only be done with one cylinder firing, unless of course you have a spare plug. Assuming that is the HT lead can be attached and that the plug cap hasn’t been shattered into a hundred pieces. The bar was bent and the fairing was cracked.
Eventually, two new carbs were bought. Should've done this when I first bought the bike. At this one stroke it was transformed. After careful carb tuning it became much smoother and produced more torque. It could now manage 110mph and returned over 50mpg regardless. Further experiments revealed that low profile NGK B7ES plugs and not the longer BP7ES plugs suited the engine and stopped the need for frequent plug cleaning.
Generally, the 948cc motors are so oversquare - the pistons have to have special extensions on the skirts to stop them twisting around the gudgeon pin - you have to thrash ‘em like two strokes to get anywhere with any reasonable haste. You'd think that such a large V-twin would have masses of low down torque, but there’s nothing of the sort. Below 2500rpm, it can't fight its way out of a paper bag. Hill starts can be a nightmare experience with a load on, there’s just no power. And pulling away from a standstill in anything other than first kills it stone dead.
Between 2500 and 3500 it’s a bit more interested, but not a lot. At 3500rpm it picks up its skirts at the start of a noticeable power band, which increases dramatically up until peak torque at 5600rpm; a rather narrow power band and the need for much gear shifting. There’s a huge gap between second and third, so that down a village street there’s the choice of revving its head or jack-hammer shuddering in third. Rather daft.
Fifth is very much an overdrive and little use at less than 70mph. If all of this sounds a little unkind, it’s really just a question of knowing what it does best. Within its power band there’s plenty of practical, usable torque whilst the engine feels at its most smooth and efficient. What you do with it is to pump it up to around 80 or 90mph, so that you can use top gear and it will stomp along like that all day. What you mustn't do is throttle off, as it takes ages to get the speed back again. You need to keep up the momentum when trying to overtake, backing off and then accelerating will get you nowhere fast. With over five gallon fuel capacity and a most comfortable seat, long distance travel is no problem.
Fitting British tyres produced terrible understeer and white-lining. Pirelli Phantoms transformed the handling, although the front wheel still had a pronounced tendency to wobble. The main cause, the large, fork mounted fairing. I became quite used to the gently fluttering handlebars until I realised that someone had removed the steering damper; that replaced it all calmed down. Fork flex was reduced by fitment of a Telefix fork brace.
The back end was well soggy even on max pre-load, causing weaves above 80mph or shutting off at lower speeds - once I had to brake suddenly in a curve when well loaded up: I needed the whole width of the road and rather frightened the car drivers coming the other way. Once started, serious weaves could only be cured by slowing down to under 50mph - damn handy if it happens in the middle lane of a motorway. £95 for a pair of Marzocchi Stradas cured most of this.
I began to like the bike so much that in 1985 I was happy to spend £400 on a cosmetic refurbishment. The Spada had well and truly converted me to Guzzis. You have to own a Guzzi for many months before their charm begins to make any sense. Motomecca now have a most comprehensive range of spares for Guzzis, so no problems there. I am a Moto Guzzi disciple and can’t imagine riding anything else.
Mike Holmes