Tuesday 26 July 2011

Honda CB1100R


You only need to put the cylinder head back on, the first thing the owner said to me. Cheeky bugger, had gone on at length over the phone about how brilliant was the bike. I couldn't get a word in edgeways. One look at the DOHC four cylinder mill was enough to convince me that it was a complex beast best left to the experts. The owner seemed shocked that I wasn't going to hand over 950 notes for the heap. By the time I reached the garden gate he was begging me to take it off his hands for 400 quid! Not being a total fool, I accepted - on condition that the Honda was delivered to my house. No way I was going to push the heavy brute home.

My expert was a friend of long standing, supplied with a few crates of Guinness, he was as happy as a sand-boy and only took a whole Saturday to put the Honda back together. We then had to lever the engine into the frame, connect up the electrics, add oil and fuel and spend a futile hour trying to get her to fire up! The expert slouched off, muttering something about his wife not letting him out that late in the evening - wimp. And what an idiot. The cause of all our problems was crossed over HT leads! He swears that was my fault; vice-versa. Just one of the hassles of trying to rebuild a bike when both of you are blind drunk!

Having heard the motor run, I staggered off to bed and slept the sleep of the good. In the morning the engine refused to start. In the end it took three mates pushing, me in the saddle, before the bike was bumped into life. The motor caught, immediately revved to about ten grand, making a ferocious roar that had curtains twitching, babies crying and dogs yowling. I switched off pronto, before the valves ended up in the sump. Turned out the throttle cable had snagged open and even when given a free run didn't really want to snap back to ground zero. The cable was corroded internally and needed replacing. The Honda dealer found the idea of stocking a part for such a rare beast hilarious, the breaker couldn't find a match but helpfully sold me a kit so I could make my own! Which I did.

That got the old brute firing up after a few seconds. The top end clattered away, the bottom end rumbled, for the first few minutes until the oil started circulating properly and the mill ceased to sound like a pack of kids throwing marbles at dustbins. The clutch was vicious, on/off, and gearbox one of those famed Honda units that majored in vagueness, but when I gave her full welly the front wheel leapt up into the air and the back tyre screamed in ecstasy.

Changing up to second - bang! - a false neutral, the bike shaking like a jack-hammer while the revs went off the scale and the front wheel slammed down on to the tarmac. The bars were ripped out of my hands as the forks spun inwards... the next thing I knew I was thrown over the bars and but narrowly missed having the bike land atop me. My mates all found this so hilarious that I had to stagger up unaided and they wouldn't stop laughing to help me pick up the Honda, which had a cracked fairing and dent in the tank, dribbling fuel. I felt a strong urge to throw a match at the bastard but got hold of myself - I hadn't insured it yet!

A GRP kit was applied to the petrol tank, filled in and lovingly sanded down (that's a sick joke, by the way). Ditto the fairing. Back on the road, I kept a mild hand on the throttle until a taller gear and reasonable road speed were achieved. The bike pulls brilliantly from 80mph in top gear, running hard up to 130mph before it began to slow down a little. 150mph, on the clock, didn't require a major effort but there was nothing extra after that, even down a long hill - I think it was the old-fashioned fairing ruining the aerodynamics.

Still, it certainly went well enough to have modern replica riders straining their necks, trying to work out what the hell it was. Not having registered the bike in my name, didn't really have to worry about speeding tickets and I left most of the plastic fantastic brigade gobsmacked as I rushed past them at max velocity.

Handling was pretty bad on the back roads but motorway curves could be waltzed through without backing off if I ignored the way the back wheel shook around. It didn't like bumpy roads and speed, ended up going all loose and imprecise. The brakes were sharp, too sharp when banked over, the bike feeling like the front wheel was falling out! A very nervous twitch resulted when I tried to stabilize things with the back brake! Conversely, backing off the throttle was an effective way of losing speed.

What I hadn't realised was that hard riding turned the bike into an oil burner. I did 150 miles of the motorway hustle, ran the lubricant right down! The first I knew of this was the gearbox locking into fifth gear. I didn't think too much about it, sauntering along for another 10 miles until I came to Bristol. By then the clutch had given up and the air seemed to be crackling around the cylinder head. When I turned the ignition off, the alloy clicked and clattered away as it tried to cool to a reasonable working temperature.

Fresh oil was hurriedly added when I found out the true state of the motor. The engine churned away for five minutes before catching, clattered horribly and wouldn't tickover, needed the throttle blipping to keep it going. I rode home, the main bearings knocking after about 20 miles! At that point, the clock claimed the mill had done 63000 miles - this wasn't the toughest design of Honda four as shown by the myriad problems with the 750 and 900 derivatives.

Back home I got the beer in, called in my friends, including the expert, and we had a fine old time of pulling the 1100R apart. A long list of damaged engine components meant there was no easy way of fixing the motor - new bits absurdly priced, used stuff rare on the breaker circuit. All I could do was wait for a replacement engine to turn up. Five weeks later there was one on offer in a breaker, crashed but whole. 500 quid. Heard the engine running, offered 400 notes and it was mine.

The clock on this one read only 34000 miles, so I was expecting a near perfect engine. The electrical connectors and even the colour of the wires were different, causing much cursing and scratching of heads. We managed to get the ignition working, the rest could wait for later. On this engine the initial clattering and knocking didn't diminish much once it warmed up and power was only good for about 135mph. Strangely, the frenzy of secondary vibration was largely absent and it didn't consume half as much oil. Various engine parts were obviously a bit worn but that didn't stop me thrashing the bollocks off it.

Much to everyone's surprise I did over 15000 miles without blowing it up. Had plenty of great rides, blew off some bigger bikes and even pulled the odd bird after I'd perfected my gearbox and wheelie action. That first to second change, even on the lower mileage engine, needed a very delicate foot. It also caught me out on the down-changes, a quick way to mess up my cornering line. Along with the handling on bumpy roads it was the most annoying aspect of the bike - it should be noted that it was still running what appeared to be the stock suspension - far from factory fresh!

All said, not the most brilliant motorcycle experience but a new one would've been something else. Sold it at a profit in the end, so for once I was a little ahead of the game. Don't know about the new owner, though.

Freddy H.