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