No fifteen year old bike is going
to be perfect. That is what I told myself last November. The grey
import looked well worn out but had only done 17000 kilometres.
The enclosed discs didn't seem to work. The paint was patchy and
the alloy corroded. The dealer wanted a thousand notes but readily
accepted £800. The motor had wailed to 14000rpm on the throttle
and sounded like new.
The Japanese wouldn't have bothered.
Just recycled it via the nearest metal crusher. The British market's
rather different and there was a steady stream of punters even
in November. It was delivered to my home. I spent a week cleaning
it up. Paint, polish, oil, brake fluid, etc.
The crossover four into one exhaust
was rusted out. Bystanders quickly clamped their hands over their
ears as I roared past. The 400cc sixteen valve, DOHC, four cylinder
engine made almost 50 horses but sod all torque. It peaked out
at eleven grand, could run to as much as 14000rpm. It was a typical
short stroke, Japanese four cylinder engine but a silky smooth
one that inspired much respect.
The riding position was perfect,
as if inspired by an old BMW Boxer. The seat was large, well padded,
a joy to sit on for a few hours. Even my buxom girlfriend didn't
object to the odd outing. The steering was a bit on the staid
side, the eighteen inch front wheel being slow turning, but there
was only 380lbs to fight through the bends. No problem!
The only initial trouble was bumpy
bends when the suspension went all soft and the exhaust collector
dug in on right-handers. The mono-shock arrangement at the back
was much improved by turning the springing up to its highest setting.
The front forks and enclosed disc never inspired. Not so bad that
I had to do anything immediately but I kept an eye open for something
better.
A used VF750F front end fitted
straight on. Even had a similar pattern Comstar wheel - I sprayed
the tatty back wheel to match the front's gold colour. The VF
had twin front discs of immense power that tried to melt the front
tyre when I touched the lever with more than one finger!
Handling was much improved once
I'd fitted a matching Avon to the front wheel. Steering seemed
lighter but it might just have been me becoming more and more
used to the bike. I just had to go easy on the front discs when
leant over, their new power could flip the front wheel off the
road! A bit of a killer in the wet.
The loud exhaust was quietened
by fitting a CBX550 can - there are plenty of bits in breakers
because of the bigger four's penchant for ruining its camchain.
The quieter motor meant the neighbours had stopped posting petitions
through my letter-box and no longer demanded my incarceration
in the nearest asylum.
I battled through the winter months.
I had to go easy on the throttle on the greasy and icy roads.
Not a good idea because the engine goes all bland at low revs.
Runs cleanly enough, just doesn't get anywhere fast. Such mild
riding turned in an amazing 70 to 80mpg. Even massive abuse didn't
bring it down to less than 60mpg. Consumable wear was mild in
the few thousand miles I did.
Winter weather made the alloy
and chrome go like old cheese. No amount of elbow grease would
bring back its shine. At least the mudguards were adequate. There
was none of the cutting out in the wet that afflicts many Honda
fours.
Come February I thought I'd escaped
the worst of the weather only to find a sudden Siberian onslaught.
To be charitable to the Honda, anyone with any sense would've
left the bike at home and gone to work on the Tube. But I forced
myself through the howling gale. My feet and hands went dead.
I thought I'd indicated right but hadn't. The black cab descended
out of nowhere and attacked the front of the bike.
I went flying. The CBX went flying.
When we'd sorted ourselves out the cab had disappeared. Leaving
me to explain to some large and distraught cagers why I'd caused
a massive pile-up. I ignored them in favour of checking out the
CBX. Hobbled over to find the front end flattened and the petrol
tank dented.
The contemptible mass of people
let me off without a hanging. I failed to mention that I had a
spare front end in the garage. I filled the dents in the petrol
tank and set to with a couple of spray cans. Not too bad. I just
had to suffer the inadequate enclosed disc again.
Like a desperate gambler I decided
that my luck must change. This was major gaff as two days later
a huge Merc was laying in wait for me. The pile of garbage behind
the wheel was so arrogant he failed to acknowledge my existence.
Back-ended me whilst I was innocently waiting at a junction. A
weird experience being thrown forward over the tank and bars.
Major damage to my marital tackle and neck. The bike escaped with
minor scratching!
My close shave with being gelded
made me think seriously about my biking future. As did some rattling
from the top end. The engine not my head! A graphic vision of
the camchain snapping and the engine exploding ran through my
mind. The dealer tweaked the tensioner and the noise went away.
I didn't know what to make of the wink he gave me but kept my
back to the wall. A major bout of hysteria narrowly avoided.
I'm neither huckster nor mercenary
but it seemed to me if the engine was once again running well
there was no reason why I couldn't put the bike up for sale. I
finally got the shine back in the Honda, kept it off the road
until some potential purchasers turned up. No problem selling
it for £950.
I went back to walking to work.
Took a bit longer but was much safer and cost nothing. The CBX400's
quite rare but many parts are common to the 550. As it needs to
be revved to hell and back again to shift, reliability's an open
question. The grey imports have low mileages but poor cosmetics,
some chance of finding a bargain.
J.T.