However, in the cold light of dawn, along with the final demands, bank statements with the clerk’s initials alongside the totals (who is this OD chap, anyway”), rose tinted dreams come crashing down and perhaps a tenth hand MZ might not be so bad after all.
Reading all the motorcycle road tests and reviews I could lay my hands on, I came across Peter Rae’s excellent book on the Honda Gold Wing. Why, I thought, hadn’t I thought of it before, here was the perfect mount. With a GL1100 I’d have not only a powerful, sophisticated and proven reliable bike, but the absolute epitome of the Japanese long distance tourer. So I went out and bought one.
A nearby dealer, advertising a good - what else - 1980, unfaired, GL1100 just over four years old, was a refreshingly familiar figure changed hardly at all from the universal salesman when I first started riding 25 years ago. Smartly dressed in a shiny blue Oxfam suit, he was the master of the non-specific. Was the recorded mileage genuine at 25000? 'Well,’ he though, ‘it might be, looking at the general condition of the machine,’ but he’d forgotten to ask the previous owner. Was there a service record with the bike? 'Well, possibly if I can find it in my desk.’ He never did. It was obviously useless to go on in this vein because at any moment I would get the little old lady riding it to church once a week treatment.
Looking at my Suzi GT185 for a trade-in against the Wing, he predictably sucked his breath through his teeth and uttered that immortal phrase so loved by second-hand dealers throughout the land, "Not a lot of demand for these, market’s dead, best I can do is eighty quid.’
The GL1100 had the start of a two inch crack in the dummy GRP petrol tank and a bald rear tyre, but otherwise looked reasonable. I accepted the £80 for the GT (which was just about to break its piston rings), agreed to go fifty-fifty on the rear tyre and handed over a cheque for £1200.
The 60 mile journey home was, to put it mildly, from the sublime to the ridiculous. I'd arrived at the dealers riding a 16hp, 340lb air-cooled two stroke and departed on a 83hp, 650lb four cylinder liquid cooled four stroke. Apart from the vast amount of effortless, almost silent, urge available at the twist grip and the feeling that I was driving something the size of a house, the Wing was not such a handful that its bulky appearance might suggest.
Predictably, there was only an egg-cup of petrol in the tank, but the ever helpful salesman pointed out an Esso garage at the bottom of the street that with a bit of a tail wind I could coast down to.
The first 1000 miles of Gold Wing ownership were interesting. The engine was so smooth that any comparison with my previous single and twin cylinder bikes was impossible. From 2000rpm up there was smooth power available. However, combining a high gear with too few revs resulted in a horrible chatter and snatch between the morse chain drive from the engine and the shock absorber unit in the gearbox - drop a cog and all was well.
Whilst the gear change lever movement was commendably short and precise, I was never able to achieve a silent change, there was a clunk and a little grinding noise. Changing into bottom while stationary was even worse, for even with the engine idling at minimal revs the clutch drag was sufficient to cause a loud thunk, causing me to cringe when surprised car drivers gave superior glares in my direction. Talking with other GL owners, this appears a universal problem.
Starting from cold with full choke was another traumatic event, for as soon as the engine caught the revs shot up to the 3000rpm cold idling speed, which to my mind always appeared far too fast for all the bits whizzing around inside. Another traumatic occurrence is whitelining. The first time this happened I was trying to negotiate a fast bend that suddenly tightened up, causing me to run wide - I was favoured by the full tactile treatment from the double white lines by being nominally in control of the Wing yet unable to effectively alter the direction of progress. It was rather like the old story of the cyclist who having got his front wheel stuck in the tram lines had to carry on until he came to the tram depot; so with myself and the white-lining, for it was not until the continuous double white lines ended that I was again able to assume full control.
Tyres were both almost new, and if a slightly strange combination of front Roadrunner and rear Bridgestone, were not to prove the source of the problem as they were eventually replaced with a set of Dunlop Arrowmaxes to no avail. Changing tyres pressures and suspension settings also had no effect. The rear Bridgestone lasted for 4500 miles and the front Avon was good for twice that, whilst a rear Dunlop lasted for 4000 miles.
With five days to go before my ninety day guarantee expired, I noticed that my right boot was covered with warm oil. Not from the engine, fortunately, but from the fork seal (the oil warmed as it passed through the radiator). "No problem,’ said the dealer when I took it back to complain, 'Just a morning's job.’ A week later he finally let me have the bike back. Six weeks later the problem came back. Haynes in one hand and adjustable spanner in the other, I set to work. The stanchion indicated prior treatment from someone intent on gouging a map of the Clapham junction railway interchange into the chrome.
My local Honda dealer could obtain a new one for a mere £105, but it worked out a lot cheaper to send the stanchion off for re-chroming and grinding back to size. Dragonfly Motorcycles did the job for less than half the price of a new one, including postage, and the end product was so accurately ground that it was better than new. Incidentally, if you are ever unfortunate enough to lose the air pressure and damping from one fork of a GL, and are not one of those fortunate few with a double supply of adrenalin, consider walking home or at the very least ride home at less than the 30mph speed limit the handling is very strange under these circumstances, all the mass that is normally well disguised by the GL’s quite effective running gear, becomes all too apparent, the whole plot leaps and bounces all over the road. I considered this not so funny.
The bike has a large stepped King & Queen seat which while very comfortable leaves my wife, who had decided that she liked motorcycles after her initial opposition to my taking up with them again when I’d bought the GT185, sat right in the turbulent wake produced by the wind blasting over my head. The seat actually has three inches of fore and aft movement, which is a great help in achieving a good relationship between footrests and bars.
For a heavy, four cylinder motorcycle the fuel economy was good. Driven hard with two up it would return 43mpg and just pottering along at 50 to 60mph gave a figure in the lowish fifties, on two star petrol. Oil it never used, the level in the sight glass never varying between oil changes and the whole power unit was commendably free from any kind of leak or misting.
But everything was not as full of happiness and contentment as it should have been and I ended up selling the machine. Why? Firstly, because of the tremendous weight and, secondly, because of the incredible cost of new parts.
To put a GL1100 on its centre stand is, to put it mildly, something approaching a double hernia job. Unless you’re on a good level surface with the wheels dead in line you'll never do it no matter how much you struggle and swear and sweat. I’m no weakling at six feet and 170lbs, but given a slight slope or camber on the road, it had to be the side stand every time. Honda were obviously aware of the problem for the later GL1200 is a vast improvement, almost a one hand job.
On the second MOT, the tester quite correctly drew my attention to the rear brake disc - despite changing the pads well before they were down to the metal, the stainless steel disc was becoming deeply grooved and due for replacement.” A heart stopping enquiry to my local Honda dealer revealed the horrendous information that a new disc would cost £180. This, I thought, was beyond a joke - the Wing would have to go, and it did.
To be fair, in retrospect the GL did fulfil the role that Honda had intended, but with qualifications. True, it was a comfortable long distance tourer, but only if you were on long straight roads. On winding back roads the rider was working hard coping with the weight and the deficiencies in chassis design to take full advantage of the flexible engine power and indulge in enjoyable bend swinging.
Due to its excess mass the Wing was a real pig to handle in any situation where you couldn’t merely stick it in gear and ride straight off. Pushing, or rather more accurately straining and sweating, to remove it backwards from the garage each morning and get her turned around on a slightly uphill path was far from the best way to start the day. It is not for nothing that the latest incarnation of the Gold Wing, the six cylinder 1500, has been fitted with a reverse gear, even if it is driven by the starter motor rather than the engine (I shudder to think of the cost of a replacement starter which surely won't last long given that kind of treatment).
The engine gave the impression of being absolutely bullet proof, a beautiful piece of flat four engineering that in 10000 miles and two years never gave much cause for complaint. My only real worry was keeping an eye on the engine temperature. In heavy traffic or very hot weather, the coolant temperature increased rapidly causing the fan to cut in with a roar. This would have been fine, save that the fan fuse could blow and let the engine get dangerously hot; if you don’t notice the gauge in the red zone you'll hear the engine making some odd crackling noises. I suspect that the size of the radiator may be marginal for the power of the engine, so it pays to keep a constant check on engine temperature.
As I’ve already mentioned, I hated the clunkiness of the gearbox but it was otherwise faultless with ratios well matched to power (not difficult with such a large spread). Shaft drive is obviously worth its extra mass in savings in chains, maintenance and overall cleanliness. But the mass and power do mean rear tyres can last as little as 3500 miles, which is both expensive and inconvenient if you take the Wing on a really long tour. I had to take the bike off the road only twice, both times due to the failure of the fork seal - as I’ve heard of two other failures this may be an intrinsic fault, so it may be worth fitting gaiters straight away if you buy one with stanchions in good condition. If the suspension is in reasonable condition the bike is very safe, and the ride comfortable, up to the legal limit, more weaves and wobbles intruding the more you break the speed limits.
Prices of spares are ridiculously high, although since selling the bike I’ve seen a couple of adverts selling new bits at substantially reduced prices. The bike has been out of production for four years now, so I suppose they will soon start finding their way into breakers which may alleviate the spares situation. If all of this has not put you off the Gold Wing as your next acquisition, do, please, have a try at getting the beast on and off its centre stand before you hand over your money, otherwise you may find yourself making an unscheduled visit to your friendly truss maker!
Peter Wells.