Honda C50

It was a drab, misty morning in February when I bought my first motorcycle, a 1971 Honda C50. Having been stored outside, it had small specks of rust poking through the tasteful green paint job. The exhaust was rusty but sound and the engine started first kick from cold. The vendor showed me it worked and claimed it was used daily on a 40 mile trip. He stipulated a top speed of 55mph, and with two good tyres, seven months MOT and a helmet thrown in (an ancient Greek Kangol, that looked older than the bike itself), I eagerly handed over £70. Even to a novice like myself the semi-automatic clutch was easy to operate (if a little jumpy).

My initial problem was with insurance, the C50 not being a moped in the strict sense of the word; the under 100cc insurance I needed defeated the object of buying a 50 but at least the insurance was relatively cheap. The next day was fine, so I put the C50 through its paces. Weight was a problem for such a small bike whilst excessive play on the throttle meant it vibrated at speed and gave an overall lack of positive feel.

Braking was adequate, if a little spongy, and the engine initially started first or second kick. My exploratory journey ended in St. Ives at my girlfriend’s house. When it was time to return the engine was completely dead. Resigned to pushing, I only then realised how bloody heavy it was, although it got up to some good speeds down hills. A friendly motorist helped an attempt at bump-starting the beast which failed miserably. Initial disappointment vanished, the problem being a poor soldering job in the magneto, which was easily rectified.

Three weeks later the engine gave out completely. The bad omens were clear - difficult starting, erratic running, easy stalling. Regular cleaning of the spark plug was necessary and even then, one day, it refused to start. Amid much cursing came the grim realisation that the engine was absolutely knackered. Being towed over windy, muddy lanes was an interesting experience but forced on me against the prospect of having to spend large sums of cash to stay in a hotel - I loomed like a black cloud on the horizon.

The problem was not initially self evident. The carb, ignition system, plug, etc were double checked but the simple test for compression was overlooked. Sure enough, the rings were shattered. Removal of the head was no mean feat and without the very useful Haynes manual would've been almost impossible without some damage to the engine. This was a crash course in small engines, a baptism of fire which I observed from a safe distance.

For a little 50 these engines are immensely complex with timing chains, cams, the works. New piston, rings, gudgeon pin, circlips and gasket set were required, as well as a lot of inexperienced labour - the spares costing 25 quid. The barrel itself looked OK so was not re-bored; probably a mistake. Refitting the head was harder than removal, having to ensure correct adjustments, and something must have been done wrong as the engine continued to soot up the plug.

Being thoroughly pissed off and a tad disenchanted with the whole experience, the C50 was left to accumulate dust for a couple of months before I could bear to face it again. Something bizarre happened to the Honda as it emerged a reformed character, still burning oil but a much more reliable machine. A little choke meant it would generally start first kick, attaining speeds of 45mph, sometimes 50mph. It was a joy for a knackered, decrepit, C50 to zoom by the likes of AR50s and RDS50s. Especially satisfying at this very dubious age was to thrash by a mate called Kev on a Honda Vision, which he’d paid a small fortune for and was very proud of.

From being a retiring violet I had become a manic C50 rider. Doing 55mph on the C50 was bloody frightening and simultaneously very pleasing. The whole bike vibrated uncontrollably, the engine roared like a very quiet lion, giving the impression of wanting to self destruct at any moment. One memorable moment of taking the bike to its limits, left the Honda wallowing in a completely random manner... I had wondered what not replacing a nut retaining the exhaust would do - the whole swinging arm bolt, bar an inch, had worked its way out. A couple of minutes more and I would have lost the back end - literally.

During this time the C50 needed nothing except petrol, which it sipped very delicately, well over 100mpg. The tank’s tiny so it has to be good to get anywhere. Braking in the dry is OK, in the wet it can prove hairy. A shower on a dry road provided the most testing conditions. Taking a corner on a country lane at no more than 10mph I touched the front brake and was instantly thrown off with a viciousness that belies the circumstances.

The C50 performed surprisingly well for friends trying it out on rough tracks, the delicate suspension riding well over dips and bumps. One mate even pulled an inadvertent wheelie, which is possible with the semi-automatic clutch. Its performance off-road was favourably compared to a Tomos 50 trail bike which was big, heavy and lacked acceleration. Even two-up the C50 coped surprisingly well, all that broke was the cheap chrome gear lever.

The end of the MOT meant the bike was laid up and I bought a C70 with the idea of using the fifty as spares. Unfortunately, after 1977 Honda produced incompatible versions on almost an annual basis, the only things swapped were the wheels. I think they're a great first bike; even the C50 moped version goes well, although is slightly slower than the unrestricted version. They generally require little maintenance; just what Mr Haynes suggests.

As for my C50, I bought a new tyre and brake shoes for an MOT and sold it for the price I paid (and kept the amusing helmet). If looked after I’m sure it'll go on and on.

Lewis Mates