Honda Melody

After various modes of transport, e.g. buses and a brief encounter with a CG125 (the latter proved mightier than I, whenever I dared to start it I received a brutal kick back and I managed to get run over from behind by some maniac in a Beetle) I inherited a red Honda Melody, my pride and joy.

I must admit to only being able to get 28mph out of it, which was a little disillusioning after seeing 65mph on the CG. Anyway there were advantages, honest. The fuel consumption was unbelievably good and the tax and insurance were ridiculously cheap. The legshields and windscreen were useful in the rain, but I became tired of the latter and chucked it away - I believe the local kids use it as a sledge.

Ease of handling and very little maintenance suited me down to the ground, for short trips it soon became indispensable. After a few years the power began to dwindle, which was a little disconcerting as there was little to start with. When progress degenerated into a series of frog like lurches I decided it had to go. Fortunately, my sister had kept the twin of my bike safely tucked away in her garage for two years and had only put 20 miles on it as she couldn't stand the stress of haring down the main roads, acting as bait for merciless lorry drivers, dying to up their squashed hedgehog tokens.

This purple item had bent bars from my sister crashing it in a big way, but I had an adequate substitute. I felt like I was on a Gold Star, the speed I got out of it was a top whack of 30mph, although the engine sounds like it’s going to blow up doing full whack downhill.

You can forget your 750s, summer is better spent musing along on a Melody. I can be found cool as the proverbial cucumber, watching the world go by, not having to show how superior my bike is and having to outride every bike that comes up behind. There’s no contest, this is what true summer biking is really about. My plastic running boards don’t need endless cleaning to outshine the new, just a flick over with the fairy and it gleams like new. The top box means I no longer have to traipse around town clinging to the ton weight of a lid, trying like mad not to smash all the Royal Dalton when I’d inadvertently gone into the crockery department in the big stores, when really looking for the loo.

Apart from checking the tyres and putting in the oil, which fortunately you don’t have to mix with petrol, my bike is a dream. My husband does the really difficult stuff like cleaning the spark plug and topping up the battery. That’s far too complicated for me, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

No oil leaks to hide when I park up, just jibes from nauseating school kids - well, you can’t have everything, can you? My jolly little basket, teetering precariously over the front wheel, is invaluable for the carrier bag of groceries or the odd tin of paint, pot plant or when I have to ride out to buy spares for hubby’s BSA. It’s also one of the few bikes that lets us girls ride to interviews and things wearing skirts. The other thing I like is that due to my short-sightedness I can’t read road signs if I’m going at speed, so my Melody is perfect for a slow approach so I can see where I’m supposed to be going.

Although this is not strictly true when rear met gravel one winters night when my bike and I parted company. I was happily trolling home and there was as usual a stream of traffic following me round as I was travelling through a long slow bend. I had been busily gawping in my mirror, when I went over what I thought was a bump in the road. The rear wheel felt rather peculiar and then presto I was ejected before you could say oil leak. Luckily, someone behind me, who was obviously already worried about my riding, had kept well back and managed to stop.

I got up and my legs seemed to be intact so I proceeded to get my bike off the road, as you usually do. Some kind chap who had a pick-up threw my Melody on the back and dropped it round for me as I nursed a very bruised leg which was swelling up fast as a well fed marrow. As he helped my Melody down from his truck, he asked whether I had hit the kerb. Now, I know I’m no ace when it comes to riding this bike, but surely not?

My husband came to look at the damage and I prepared myself for the ridicule. But no, apparently both sides of the wheel were dented. My husband, the ever ready Sherlock Holmes, then insisted we went to the scene of the crime - a drain had been dug up by the council which had left a six inch hole around it. Well, I managed to get some compensation for the bike parts, which weren’t too expensive. The leg took a little longer, but I recovered.

Men, being favourites at mocking my little racer, are the first to borrow it in any little emergency, I’m sure millions of other owners are nodding their heads at this very moment. Where are all the big bikes in the snow, eh? Cosily wrapped up in blankets in their centrally heated garages no doubt. But us Melody owners are still there battling against the elements, after all when they fall over they're not too heavy to lift back up, although a bit dicey on ice you look like you’re trying to get the damn thing to waltz.

Melodies are very reliable, save when water gets into the fuel or the automatic choke gets carried away, and I rarely start mine on the electric start as it drains the battery. Parts are not too expensive, but not as cheap as British stuff and tyres are easily come by and are very reasonable too. Good, cheap, reliable transport and in the summer a real boon.

Yvonne Rothwell