25 Great Bodges

With the massive expense involved in running most modern bikes, it's sometimes necessary to resort to short-cuts. These are often well dodgy, and only for the desperate, but they have to be better than being off the road. The UMG can take no responsibility for their effectiveness...

Chains can be kept going by removing links. By the time they are this worn they will probably be full of tight spots which can be worked out by soaking in oil or spraying with WD40, then working the links back and forth between two pliers or Mole grips. Soaking in Linklyfe will help. Chains with links removed will ruin the sprockets (but they'll probably already be wrecked anyway) and will eventually snap, taking out either the back of the crankcases or your leg (wear boots) [If you consider this to be an acceptable risk, then I would respectfully suggest that you are a fucking idiot. Just buy a cheap chain already - 2022 Ed.]. If you're buying a bike, check for tight spots in the chain, which combined with adjusters with lots of movement left shows that the rider’s a cunning bugger.

Engine breathers on modern machines are often vented into the airbox, where they do no amount of harm to induction efficiency. Redirect them on to the top run of the drive chain, where the drip feed of lube should prolong its life; especially neat where full chain enclosure’s employed. There shouldn't be great gobs of oil or heavy fumes out of the breather, at most a mild mist; anything else means the engine’s already on the way out.

Silencers often rot before the rest of the exhaust system, especially if the bike's used in town excessively when condensation forms. An amazingly effective repair to a crack that runs almost all the way around the circumference of a silencer consists of an old beer can (or any container made out of thick tin - I often use an old biscuit tin) and two Jubilee clips. Cut the can into a flat strip that can be wrapped around the silencer and hold in place with the clips. Spray the whole thing matt black and it'll hardly be noticeable. Gun-Gum, used in holes in silencers, tends to fall out but will last long enough for the MOT [Good luck with that... IME it falls out before you've even reached the test centre - 2022 Ed.]. Welding holes works better, but if the silencer's far gone then it may dissolve when the welding torch’s pointed at it. Universal megaphones are still sold (‘for track use’), can be bolted on to the end of most down-pipes and are not unduly noisy (often not affecting the carburation). If you can afford it, go for the stainless steel variant as the normal ones rust within six months. It’s also possible to mix and match silencers from breakers (about a fiver upwards). When buying a motorcycle give the silencer a good kick to see if it falls off.

The bolts holding the exhaust clamps on to the cylinder head will often snap off when trying to undo them as they become heat corroded, leaving the stud flush with the head. An easy repair is to drill a smaller hole in the remnant of the stud and tap to take a smaller bolt: Don’t try gorilla force on this repair as it'll probably snap off or strip. The same kind of repair can be employed on other snapped bolts as long as it's not attaching an important structural component.

On smaller screws, usually in the engine when the alloy strips, a useful bodge is to oil the screw very lightly, cover in Araldite (not the fast setting type, though) and screw in lightly after cleaning out the thread with a bit of rag. As long as there's a bit of thread left the Araldite will bond to the alloy, if left overnight, producing a new thread. The oil on the screw will let it come undone, but it's probably better not to use this bodge where the screw has to come out often, nor where it’s going to cause problems if it falls out. Use helicoils if the screw has an important purpose.

Araldite really is wonderful stuff, the best epoxy resin around as long as you're willing to wait 24 hours for it to set properly. The rapid setting variety doesn’t have the same kind of strength. Other uses include bonding pieces of broken fairing, repairing minor brackets and gluing leads back into rectifiers etc.

Superglue’s much overrated, and doesn’t work at all well on some surfaces. However, in minor spills where the bits of indicators or clocks can be collected, Superglue can be used to bond them back together. Done properly, you have to look very closely to see the join. Be aware that you can also bond your hand to the broken component! Other uses for Superglue include gluing small cracks in plastic bodywork, repairing tears in seats and cracks in plastic reflectors,

Plastic Metal's popular for filling in holes in the crankcases (often from a broken chain) but sometimes falls out, emptying the sump of oil! Use as a temporary repair only and don't try to sell a bike with such a bodge without telling the new owner, not unless you want his possible death (from a seized engine hence back wheel) on your conscience. Plastic Metal's also been used for filling small splits in leaking petrol tanks (again temporarily), hiding cracks in frames (very nasty) and silencer repairs (doesn't last long).

Alloy welding offers a more permanent fix to engine holes and cracks. There are a couple of fusion welding kits on the market that let you get away with using a blowtorch. A bit of practice's needed to avoid wrecking the engine but the repair’s as strong as the original aluminium.

Bodywork, seat bases and mudguards, among others, can be repaired using GRP kits (available from Halfords and most car accessory stores). Useful, also, for strengthening after-market fairings which are so thin that they often crack around the mounting brackets. GRP is pretty messy stuff that can stink out the average house; best to work in the garage or open. It’s also possible to produce small pieces of bodywork using GRP on top of cardboard moulds, although usually an awful lot of work’s needed to clean up the finished masterpiece; more useful for desperate street rats than exotic race replicas. The fumes given off by GRP as it sets can also be a bit noxious.

One of the nastiest aspects of low rent motorcycles is the way they disintegrate over a typical British winter. If the bike’s stored away spray WD40 over the engine, wheels and exhaust; it protects as well as penetrates (also hit suspension linkages if you can’t be bothered with proper lubrication). Better still, used Scientific Coatings’ protective liquid on both alloy and paint (though not the bits that get hot). All the grime and grit just washes off and it lasts for years, making it much easier to sell the bike later.

One of the cheapest bodging materials is old inner tubing - never throw this away. Easily cut, moulded or glued, ideal for extra rubber mounting of batteries, electronic components, Silencer brackets (at the frame end, please) and lights.

Silicone or the cheaper mastic sealant has a number of uses, can even be pumped into handlebar ends to help damp out vibration. Also used for sealing coils, electronic boxes, back lights on to mudguards and air filter boxes.

Electronics are a perennial problem on old bikes, not least the rectifier and regulator. Both can cheaply be replaced by components from car accessory stores (less than a tenner the pair), although as they are designed for use inside the car alternator some extra work's needed. The wiring’s fairly obvious if you look closely at the circuit diagram but such a bodge won't work on bikes with field alternators (such as the Yam XS650).

A simpler if more expensive and potentially dodgy solution’s to use second-hand Superdream rectifier/regulators - they work well in the GS series which are renown for naff electronics. In theory, alternator, regulator and rectifier should be matched to each other but by the time the rectifier's blown the alternator will have burnt out as well and there's not much point putting new crap components in. Make sure, though, when mixing and matching rectifiers that it’s up to the power of the alternator. Rewound alternators are available on an exchange basis by return post for around £35; cheap and reliable.

Some bike suffer from very simple faults that can be fixed for next to nothing. Many bikes that run points ignition blow their condenser, leading to poor or impossible starting, evident by arcing across the points. Bike manufacturers charge silly money for replacements, buy one for less than a quid from a car accessory store (they have their uses, after all). Don’t worry if it’s 12 instead of 6 volts, it'll work fine. If the bike has magneto ignition and the replacement’'s too big, run a couple of wires out of the generator and fix the condenser to the frame (out of the weather).

Another use for a condenser, or capacitor, is to stop lights blowing. When there are voltage surges from a fading rectifier or regulator bulbs blow; place a condenser (at least 18V) in parallel with the light, it'll absorb the excess voltages. If this doesn't work either the vibes are getting at the lights, there’s a loose earth wire or the electrical system is about to fail.

Yet another use for a capacitor is as a replacement for a battery, use at least LEA 24V and 5000pF (about 30mm in diameter and 60mm in length). This won't work on bikes with electronic ignition but with points ignition what it does is phase the alternator output with when the ignition needs power, allowing the bike to be kicked into life. The lights and horn will still work, though idle often stalls the engine. Lucas supplied the system (energy discharge ignition) for many trail bikes and the Commando. Rubber mount the capacitor as it’s susceptible to vibration.

Cheap tyres are available from breakers and dealers often sell Japanese rubber that has been pulled off new bikes in favour of superior European stuff. Tyre dealers sell nearly worn out rubber for as little as a fiver a throw. Use washing-up liquid on the tyre’s bead to ease on the rubber. Avons seem to last longer than most, sometimes at the expense of the grip.

Pitted forks can be repaired by filling the holes with Araldite, smoothing down by hand before it sets, then the next day finishing off with a bit of emery cloth. Grease and add a pair of fork gaiters to protect from further damage. Hard chroming is the only other alternative, expensive but long lasting. If there are any crease marks on the forks then they've been straightened, should be swapped for something better as soon as possible - before they break in two!

Brake calipers always seem to seize after a British winter. Spraying with WD40 every week helps, as does using brake grease during reassembly. Some calipers can be modded so that screwing in a couple of bolts pops them apart, much better than the usual swearing fit. Always use after-market brake pads, they are superior (often eliminating wet weather lag) and cheaper. Ferodo seem the best of the bunch.

Nylon coated cables smooth clutch, brake and throttle action and last longer - cheaper, too, if you buy one of the kits. Cables that break at the handlebar end can sometimes be bodged for a short time by using mole-grips on the end. It looks strange and weird but will get you home. Better still, tape spare cables alongside the existing ones.

Modern liquid gasket can replace normal gaskets (but don't block any oil ways) whilst it’s still possible to buy sheets of gasket material to cut your own. Pattern gaskets are cheaper but check they line up with all the oilways in the engine.

Never be without those essential bodging tools, a large hammer and small chisel. Imperative for removing engine screws that have been solidified in the motor by corrosion. Ideal for hacking away at exhaust brackets and useful for frightening small children. I'm never without mine.

Honda CB650

I wanted a flash set of wheels but didn't have the thousands necessary to buy one. What I ended up with was a very neat mild custom Honda 650 Nighthawk. The last in the line of SOHC Honda fours.

With a chromed four into one exhaust that did nothing to ruin the soft power delivery. I didn't mind in the least that all the action was below 100mph. Bright blue and silver were the colours of custom joy. Bars high enough to drain the blood from my mitts and a feel that was so laid back I yearned for the days when lids weren't compulsory and black shades were!

Any old Honda four, however shiny, with more than 42000 miles achieved, is going to be a bit finicky. My first taste was the gearbox action, as slick as a Chinese haircut and noisy as a steel band. Definitely not too cool, but not a great hassle as the bike would run down to 1000 revs in fourth gear without the usual transmission lash. Other than carbs that needed a balance every 750 miles, a couple of balmy summer months went happily by.

Then came the joys of the autumn rains. That old Honda nasty, cutting out in the wet. As a triple or twin the Honda was about as tasty as a pile of shite. In one raging rainstorm the CB cut out completely. I had to get down on my knees before it and empty a can of WD40 over the top of the motor. In the dark the sparking was an impressive fireworks display. Not until I mounted a set of used CBX750 coils on new leads and caps did the dangerous habit abate.

If the upright riding position was a veritable joy in town, and just about acceptable down my favourite back roads, speeds in excess of 70mph were comparable to a few hours on the rack. In the rain my groin was targeted for special attention, ending up looking like I’d pissed myself. An action not entirely unlikely given the rather remote ride and the worn state of the Far Eastern rubber. A new set of Avons were acquired as soon as finances allowed.

Most of the handling woes were then down to worn out suspension and swinging arm bearings. The back end would hop and skip, the front forks quaver at ant sized bumps, and I'd often think I was on some kind of deranged rocking horse. A pair of used but not too abused Hagon shocks were fitted without too much hammering (they were off a CB750) and a mighty fork brace attached out front. A couple of phosphor bronze bearings replaced the decrepit bits of plastic masquerading as swinging arm bushes.

Life became saner after these attentions. The double cradle frame looked tough enough but some idiosyncrasy of the kicked out front end still made for some interesting weaves at 75mph. Throw in character building speed wobbles when a large bump or pot-hole disturbed the poise of the forks. No end of minor adjusting was undertaken trying to sort this out but was as effective as screaming prayers when things got out of hand.

The Honda was thus a bit deceptive. Running calmly and strongly below 70mph only to turn vindictive at the slightest excuse at higher velocities. I let a few mates borrow the Nighthawk, forgetting to explain fully its nature. They came back all shaken up, full of wonder at my prowess, or at least at the minor fact that I was still alive.

Pushing the Honda to 90mph caused it to quiet down a little, although I was totally aware that I was riding a potential death-trap that could throw me down the road at any moment. These heroics became more intense with 110mph cruising, when devilish weaves were combined with a shuddering chassis that felt mere moments off complete disintegration. 120mph was the most I ever dared - and only the once!

The truth was that the engine ran out of power by the time the ton was done, and that secondary vibes doubled with every extra 500 revs. The OHC engine can trace its ancestry back to the CB500/4, which in turn was inspired by the late sixties CB750. The most marked difference between the 750 and 500 being the use of a separate oil tank on the former, a passing tribute to the antiquity of old British twins. The 500 and 650 share another bit of ancient design, the dreaded (hyvo) chain primary drive. Although to be fair to the 650, it tends to rattle and produce a grumbling transmission rather than actually wear out.

Electronic ignition removed one maintenance chore on the 650, but the eight valves need regular attention to their screw and locknut tappets - tedious every 1500 miles or so, but at least I don’t have to fork out for shims every ten minutes. A flurry of secondary vibes around 5000 revs announces the carbs going out of balance. If they are ignored fuel drops from a poor 40mpg to a cataclysmic 30mpg! I actually went as far as taking the carbs off to clean them out (gunge from the rusting tank had gotten into them) but wished I hadn't when I tried to put it all back together again. Oh well, we live and learn a little.

Apart from such chores the motor ran to 69500 miles before it was completely worn out, right down to shot crankshaft and gearbox bearings. The last few weeks were ghastly, with 250 performance and enough noise to announce the second coming. The engine didn’t quite seize but ground to a halt outside work, refusing to start even when pushed by a couple of burly louts. The chassis was still splendid, especially with the suspension mods, so I could not easily abandon the Nighthawk to a fate worse than death - left to rot in the car park where urchins would quickly tear it limb from limb.

My first thought was to pull the motor down and do a quick rebuild. Apart from a couple of screws there was nothing left that was of any use to anyone. My second ploy was to buy MCN and do a lot of phoning around breakers until a good motor turned up. CB650s were never the most popular machines but an engine did turn up after about a week of abuse swapping. No, it couldn't be heard running but for £175 what did I expect?

How about a little civility and truthfulness? No hope! After the usual cursing match the replacement motor was installed and even started after an argument with a car battery. I knew it was a pile of crap within moments. You didn’t need to belong to Scotland Yard to detect the way the vibration made it shuffle across the garage like an old Bonnie.

Nor did you need the acute hearing of a blind man to notice the rattles and knocks. It was the kind of bike that made packs of juveniles throw bricks at it! Such unpleasantness lasted for all of 367 miles when the motor locked up solid. It could’ve been a disaster but we were only doing 20mph and I kicked the bike out of the slide. The back wheel remained locked up until we skidded to a halt - the clutch had just exploded when I grabbed its lever.

Charmed I was not. A week later reports reached my elephant ears of a friend of a friend of a friend whacking into a coach at 50mph. My mind twitched when I realised that his CB500/4 engine would surely fit straight in. The guy was so disillusioned that he said I could take the compacted bike away for £100. Promising, the speedo only read 29 thou.

The engine didn’t go straight in but with modified engine mounts and a spacer on the gearbox sprocket it was wham-bam-mam. To be honest, I couldn't find much difference between the 500 and 650’s performance. I didn’t even feel much difference between the low end grunt. I was so impressed I tore the engine covers off for bead-blasting and did the rest of the motor in matt black (originality was never my strong point). The motor has so far done 15000 miles with the usual maintenance chores (plus points on this engine).

Some chassis malaise showed up as the bike pushed past 80000 miles. The twin front discs had only needed pads every 12500 miles and the odd clean out but by 80 thou the discs were ringing due to thinness, not helped by the heat treatment doled out when both calipers locked up. Replacement with used bits the only cure.

The rear drum’s still there, just, but the exhaust’s hanging on by silvers of chrome. The steering head bearings went and the forks are somewhat loose. Despite all that, I've the feeling that the bike will make it past the 100000 mile mark - just in case it doesn't I've bought a good CB650 mill for £250. Nighthawks are well worth a look.

Ian Sterling

Honda CB350K4

I could smell a bargain a mile away. The advert in the shop window told of a 1973 Honda CB350 twin, a non-runner for 25 notes. No phone number so I had to make the trek on spec. The bike was whole, a bit rusty in places and the motor still turned over. Better still, the owner’s old man would deliver it to my house free of charge within the hour. The deal was struck and the adventure began.

I've lots of experience making old engines run. My immediate suspicions centred on the ignition system. The spark at the plugs was yellow rather than blue. New plugs, same trip. Cleaned and set the points to no avail. New condenser. Nothing’s ever that easy but receiving about 10000 volts via the HT lead put me on the right track. Car coils with new HT leads and caps resulted in a bright blue spark. But still the engine only stuttered rather than started. The next logical place to look was the carburation, although I could smell petrol getting through. The rubber manifolds were intact, as were the diaphragms. Some jerk had screwed the pilot jets right in.

After a bit of trail and error I got the engine sounding positively enthusiastic but not quite firing. The final piece of the puzzle was an OE air filter clogged up with 32000 miles worth of grime. A few strategically placed holes revived the flow characteristics and the motor finally fired up. Nothing’s quite that easy, is it?

The top end rattled and the gearchange was way past its prime. The top end was down to a dead tensioner and camchain, the gearbox had worn out selectors. Whilst I waited for the bits to come from Japan, I set to the chassis with a vengeance. Rust had almost ruined the guards and seat base but GRP and paint revived them. The frame was rubbed down and touched up where necessary. The forks and shocks were handed over to a mate who had a small engineering workshop in his cellar and was able to renovate them for fifty quid. The wheels were painted silver, the chrome long since lost to the mists of time. An expensive round of consumables completed the renovation effort.

What I had was a plain and simple vertical twin of 325cc, about 35 horses and 360lbs. Utterly conventional in almost every aspect, the CB350 was one of the best selling motorcycles ever in the USA, although licensing laws made the 250 version much more popular in the UK. Its looks are somewhere between bland and classic but grow on you with time. My bike was a dark green that still shone up nicely after a bit of T-Cutting.

Once the engine had been reassembled, a relatively painless process, I was all set for some serious riding. Already, there were fitted rear-sets that matched the flat bars much better than the forward mounted pegs that came stock. The seat left me feeling perched atop the machine, but other than that the riding was really easy. A moped graduate would have no problems if he were allowed aboard such a machine, making rather a mockery of the 125 laws.

To be sure, I was initially aware of a top heavy feel that tried to tilt the machine into slow bends but my body soon compensated and I was kicking the bike around like the proverbial juvenile delinquent. Braking, with a TLS front and SLS rear drum, was close to brilliant loads of power and plenty of feel.

The refurbished suspension was rather stiff for modern, ruined roads but stopped any wandering or wallowing. Performance was up to 250 Superdream levels but lacked any kind of viciousness or wickedness; I could just crack the ton in neutral conditions, maybe 105mph flat out down a steep hill. Even when thrashed into the red at unlikely revs, there wasn’t very much vibration. Surprising on a bike of this age and mileage; a testament to the basic correctness of the design and an indictment of nasty things like Superdream balancers that Honda later inflicted upon the world.

This style of older Japanese bikes have taken over from ancient British twins as righteous sickles. Don’t laugh, they have the same kind of performance, are still cheap to buy and run along without too much expense or effort. All attributes that Bonnies and Commandos used to have but they've priced themselves out of the market, these days. If you don’t believe me just look around at the number of cheap chops that’ve been built around old Jap twins. A sure sign of the times.

I felt pretty secure with the Honda's engine but slightly worried by the stories of the chassis cracking up. I'd noticed with alarm the appearance of great gobs of rust at the upper shock studs. My friendly local mechanic tested them with his largest hammer, got the right hand one to fly off. He said not to worry (something about the alarm in my face), the welding torch would solve all. And it did, praise be to primitive technology.

Next on the list of possible disasters was ageing alloy in the drum casings. It’s not unknown for old hubs to crack up after 20 years of service. A weekly jet wash and inspection kept some kind of peace of mind. However, after about 6000 miles the rear drum started to crack up. Alloy welding didn't inspire much confidence in such an important component. A used back wheel was found in the small ads of one of the other magazines.

There was no guarantee that this wasn’t about to disintegrate but in the greater scheme of things it was a risk I was willing to take. bin Eventually, some 14000 miles further down the line I ended up with a pair of Bonnie wheels (with concentric hubs), forks and shocks, making the similarities between the breeds all the more noticeable. A couple of Brit bike fanatics made nasty noises about my misuse of Triumph components but in general the little Honda was received well wherever I went.

The stiff Triumph suspension and powerful brakes allowed me to ride the Honda right at the limits of engine performance. With 52000 miles on the clock such levels of abuse couldn't last for long. Sure enough the pipes began smoking and top speed decreased to a mind nurturing 80mph. The top end was OK but the bores and pistons looked like they’d been around the clock a few times. Replacements were already to hand, in the form of CB250K3 barrels bored to take high compression pistons, a popular move back in the seventies when the porkers were unable to tell that the motor was bored to 325cc. Still useful, today, as it brings down the cost of road tax and insurance (damn, I should've bought the 250).

Out of sheer respect for the motor I bunged in new top end gaskets and added a shiny new set of exhausts. The engine, given a gentle bit of running in, managed to push the Honda to all of 110mph. Some replica jockeys were quite surprised at the way the bike would cruise along at 95mph (in excellent comfort, I might add) and, also, at the angles of lean it'd take (the stands had their prongs ground down and the Triumph suspension made the bike ride an inch or so higher). Acceleration was, it has to be admitted, rather stately by modern standards, a lot of effort needed to see off derestricted TZR125s, and the like.

Much to everyone’s annoyance (I mean there’s nothing like getting up the nose of people who spend thousands on new bikes, is there?) the CB ran with an almost miraculous lack of faults to 82000 miles when the camshaft bearings, rockers and valves were all dead meat. The thing with these kind of bikes, rather like MZ250s, is that along the way you tend to collect all kinds of rats and out of this accumulation of junk, er, valuable future classics, I had the necessary bits to fix it.

However, the purchase of a bargain priced FZR600 with ruined plastic meant I had my hands full. This was my first replica and the performance turned out to be so stunning that I left the Honda to rot. There’s no excuse for this kind of neglect, other than rampant self-indulgence. If any UMG readers want to buy a CB350 plus several rat CB250/350s then drop me a line via the UMG. About £250 seems right! CB350’s are neat motorcycles with a future.

John Trent