Honda VT500

I bought an ex-despatch Honda VT500. The 80,000 miles on the clock had to be placed against the £200 price tag. Yes, it was a bit of a wreck and far from standard, but the engine rattled away merrily enough and my short burst up the crowded town centre revealed that after a CB125T it had loads of acceleration.

The front end was from a CB400 Superdream, Comstar wheel, exposed disc and all. The back wheel was standard but the enclosed disc had not worked for the last 20,000 miles. The engine was covered in the white corrosion indicative of cheapo aluminium alloy. The mudguards, switches, lights and seat were off some unidentified machine, or machines, the tank was a mess of dents and rust.

The engine made a loud barking noise through the home-made 2-1, had a dreadful backfire on the overrun and a clicking noise from the back cylinder head of the watercooled vee twin engine. Either the exhaust was so raucous at high revs that you couldn't hear it or the noise went away when I twisted open the throttle.I perched myself, comfortably enough, on this rolling wreck, a full tank of fuel thrown in, hopefully enough to see me the 125 miles home.

It came with a huge rack and top box, one of those wide and ugly handlebar fairings that actually protect hands from rain and cold, together with cow horn handlebars that didn't really suit the standard position of the foot-pegs, but, shit, that was the least of my worries.

All the reports I've read on the VT seem to indicate that when newish it's a pretty stable bike upon which to hurtle across the countryside. 80,000 miles had evidently not been kind to the suspension, although the Superdream forks may have done even more than that and could well be longer, shorter or weaker than the stock units they replace.

The huge handlebar fairing couldn't help matters, but even so I was rather disconcerted by the magnitude of the weaves that appeared once past 50mph. I mean, there was I with 20 miles of the journey done, just exiting the sprawling suburbs on to a nice piece of A road trickery that I would have done flat out on the CB125T, opening up the throttle in top gear, greeted with a gratifying noise and a reasonable amount of grunt, when the bike starts weaving and wallowing like someone had removed the swinging arm spindle.

It was so bad that I quickly pulled over, kicked the tyres, shook the swinging arm and jerked the forks. No real play there. I remounted my pride and joy, and tried for a bit of speed again. Same problem, up to 50mph runs like it's on rails, beyond that wobble, weave, wobble.....oh my god, it's going to go through the hedge, I'm running out of space, slam on the brakes, down below 50mph stability returns.

A very frustrating ride home followed. I could feel the engine wanting to urge the machine forward, I could all but taste the joy of exceeding the ton, the roads were mostly deserted, ideal biking territory, but I had to sit there like an idiot, grinding my teeth and making damn sure it didn't do more than 50mph.

To cut a long story short, removal of the fairing and top box, fitment of a set of Michelins and flat bars, bumping up the suspension to maximum and accelerating through the few remaining bad patches (at 75 and 90mph) sort of solved the handling problems. It was never totally stable at speed, it always liked to dance the back wheel a little, but I soon became used to the slight queasiness of the chassis to the extent that my forward velocity was limited not by the chassis but the thought that the engine was surely due to explode.

And that, friends, is the really remarkable thing about the 32000 miles I managed to add to the VT's clock, the engine just ran and ran like clockwork. Its only sign of great mileage was the need to add a pint of oil every 250 miles. The clicking noise never went away but it got no worse, a slight oil leak on the front cylinder head stayed slight and the only work I did on the motor was a full service every 1000 miles.

By the time 112,000 miles were up the engine was still running okay, although it was a rare day that I could get more than a ton on the clock, but the gearbox was in a bad state. It was never exactly precise when I got my grubby hands upon it, by the time I sold the bike (for £300, by the way) only second, third and fifth gears could be relied upon, the others either slipped out of gear at embarrassing moments or were next to impossible to engage. The real neutral was also an elusive agent, but the plentitude of false neutrals meant that it was no great hardship.

Taking off in second gear, even up a hill, two up, proved no great hardship, for the vee twin motor was true to its type, producing lots of useable low speed torque, as well as being quite willing to be hammered to the redline in second and third. Fifth gear was a bit too buzzy for my liking but as there was no easy way to change the gearing I had to learn to live with it. I tended to stick it in fifth as soon as possible and just roll the throttle on and off as occasion demanded, giving a speed range of 35 to 100mph.

This was a far better idea than wrestling with the intransigent gearchange action. The clutch had been uprated by the previous owner, fitted with stronger springs and newish plates it performed magnificently - everyone told me that the clutch would fail as it's a common fault with VT's, but mine was okay, its only problem a bit of drag on cold mornings and in excessive town riding.

The combination of rat bike appearance and my disregard for safety of life and limb meant that the VT was often ridden in a dangerous and violent manner. Many were the times car drivers were disconcerted to find themselves cut up and burnt off by what must have appeared an ancient wreck piloted by a refuge from Charring Cross arches - I quickly found out that the VT tended to spray a light coating of oil over trousers and a heavy coating of road muck over jackets, so dressed in my oldest clothes which I never bothered to clean.

I was quite often stopped by the police but they found, much to their surpise, that the bike was even taxed......an acquaintance rides around on a new looking CBR600F1 without road tax or insurance but has never been stopped.....if you own a rat bike you will soon find that you need to be legal as the cops pick on you something chronic.

Without a back brake the bike shouldn't have passed an MOT but I've been going to the same backstreet dealer for the last ten years and didn't have any problems.

I fell off the bike twice and whacked a car once. The first time I fell off was my own fault, I misjudged my entry speed to a corner by about 15mph, locked up the front wheel, skidded on some gravel as the bike careered on to the edge of the road and slid off gracefully. Flesh was torn to a much greater extent than machinery was battered, a few kicks and tugs soon had the VT rideable.

The second crash was even more disconcerting, the dreaded diesel slick took the front wheel out from under the bike before I knew what was happening. The bike bounced off my leg, righted itself, stood for a moment and then went crashing down on its other side. I quickly hobbled up out of the traffic flow and was amazed to find that the bike was undamaged, or at least no more damaged than it had been before the crash. My leg was badly bruised and didn't take kindly to being contorted into the normal riding position for the 55 mile jaunt home.

I was equally surprised to find I hadn't bent the forks when some Herbert decided to suddenly change lanes when I was filtering between two lines of cars. He must have been deaf as well as blind, as I was revving the motor in second gear and I could see car drivers giving me the finger in my mirrors. I did have to pay out good money to straighten the Comstar, it was so slightly buckled that I did not notice at the time and had agreed with the car driver not to bother with the insurance companies. However, as soon as I opened the bike up the weaves came back with a vengeance - I was not too impressed when I put the repaired wheel back on to find that the wobbles were still present, some joker had put 40psi in the front tyre!

A set of tyres did 9 to 10,000 miles, fuel went down at between 35 and 40mpg, whilst the disc pads lasted only 5000 miles, perhaps because there was no rear brake back up to the front. Not a very cheap beast to run, admittedly, but the reliability of the motor more than made up for that.

I had hoped to get ten to fifteen thousand miles out of the bike and then sell the thing to a breaker for a hundred notes. Instead, I was very impressed with its toughness and reckon short of dropping them off the side of a cliff they'll keep on running. I've just bought a two year old with 11000 miles up, and that says it all!

Martin Price

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The clutch went at 32000 miles, the first time I had any trouble from the watercooled vee-twin engine. Clutch slip soon became a high level of juddering, the shaft drive churning away in an suicidal way. I made it back to the house without doing too much damage. My cousin had borrowed the bike for a week and I suspected that he was a wheelie junkie. The plates were worn and warped but easy enough to replace.

I'd a few chassis problems before the motor gave any trouble. Not any real design faults, just some cager trying to kill me. He didn't succeed but managed to turn the front wheel into a piece of modern sculpture and break the front forks off just below the yokes. That I survived without injury was a minor miracle. CB900 forks and front wheel were forced on, an added benefit of replacing the rotten enclosed disc front brake (it worked but made maintenance chores nigh on impossible).

The CB900 forks weren't new but whatever wear they'd suffered didn't trouble the relatively low mass of the VT. Braking hard threatened to throw me over the bars and knocked my balls on the tank. The rear drum was always a useful back up and all I really needed in town. Pads in the original set-up lasted 9000 miles, in the CB900 front end about 12000 miles. Rear shoes went for over 15000 miles.

The rest of the chassis was robust, even after more than a 100,000 miles of abuse. The paint faded rather than fell off. The steering head bearings went at 57000 miles and the back wheel bearings at 63000 miles, but there was plenty of warning from the handling so both were fixed without leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.

For a while I ran the VT with a big RT-type fairing. This was good in the winter when my whole body was protected from the wind and rain. The only problem was that the massive mass out front made the bike handle very weirdly and on slippery roads the front wheel would skid away so fast that I was tasting tarmac before I knew what'd happened.

I stuck with it for one winter thereafter made do with a large handlebar fairing that fully protected my hands and upper body. This was fine up to 50mph, but higher speeds had the heavy mass attached to the bars yearning for self destruction via the well known, underpant staining, lock to lock speed wobble. This fast exit from reality was rigorously avoided by moi by the simple expedient of riding slowly in winter and taking the fairing off for the rest of the year.

The vee-twin motor ain't really about power, pushing out a mere 50 horses at 9000rpm, but lays down useful torque between 3000 and 8000 revs, although it's never the gut churning stuff of cruiser dreams of a big Harley - a hell of a lot better, though, than a CB400 Superdream.

Top speed's all of 115mph under favourable conditions, even if the machine gives the impression of starting a rebellion every time the speedo goes near the ton. In the early days it'd cruise at 90mph with all the ease of a BMW, but after about 65000 miles it'd only repeat that trick at 80mph. Similarly, fuel's gone from a reasonable 55-60mpg to a diabolical 40mpg, along with half a sump worth's of oil being burnt off between 1000 mile changes.

Maintenance chores, oil aside, have always been minimal, the valves and carbs done every 10,000 miles, the rest of the stuff looking after itself. It may've been neglect of regular valve adjustment that led to the back head cracking up a valve, or it might just've been old age, in the form of 82000 miles, catching up with the engine. £25 for a complete head seemed reasonable. Amazingly, the camchains and tensioners are still original!

The same couldn't be said for the exhaust system, the collector section rusting rapidly. A few bits of tube and some neat welding solved that one until the whole exhaust became splattered with rust where it was rusting from the inside out. Motad did a neat 2-1 that proved awkward to fit but seemed to emphasize the midrange torque. It was well built, is still on the bike with lots of life left. No carb changes were needed, I did note that there was a bit of surging at 10,000 revs - as likely to be caused by a bit of wear in the carbs as the new exhaust not quite matching the engine. Not that it was a great problem, I usually didn't go over 8000 revs.

The VT proved ideal for the commuting chores, a mixture of terrifying town work and the odd blast along crowded A-roads. Apart from the lack of need to go crazy on the gearbox, the Honda's narrowness and lightness made it a delightful bolide to hustle through ever more dense traffic. Not once in five years did it fail to get me to work on time, the bike having a reliability as intense as any religious nutter. Mild tuning and watercooling worked together in an engine package that had no inherent self-destruct tendencies.

The basic toughness of the mill will be borne out by any number of DR's, a whole subculture growing up around the VT. My mate did 160,000 miles on one example, literally riding the poor old thing into the ground (being clever he'd bought one of the last models in the country and kept it in perfect nick in readiness for the other one's demise). Another DR we know did an incredible 220,000 miles until the whole, dilapidated rat was completely worn out. I wasn't exactly unique doing more than 100,000 miles, then, but I still felt proud of the bike for surviving a not particularly benign regime.

I did have some electrical hassles along the way. They started when I tried to improve the front lamp, which wasn't up to more than 40mph down unlit roads. With the CB900 front end I had a big round headlamp that would take a 120 watt main beam from a car. God, that did wonders on dark roads, I've never ridden a bike with such a splendid main beam.

The trouble was that I hadn't upgraded the electrics to suit. I realised this when smoke poured out of the handlebar switch, it not being designed to take 10 amps. I shut down to dip which was only 60 watts but it was already too late, the lights flickering until they blew.

As well as a burnt out switch quite a few wires had melted their insulation, I was lucky not to have been burnt alive on a bike turned into a raging conflagration. I fitted new wires and a relay. That kept me going for a while but long runs would gradually drain the battery, leading to an imbalance in the electrical system. Eventually, I burnt out the rectifier and battery. I gave up on the ultra powerful bulb and fitted a halogen unit. Not a perfect solution because it only lasted for about 5000 miles before blowing up. An expensive indulgence but at least I could see in the dark.

Any weakness in the battery led to poor starting, as the electric starter was on the way out by 50,000 miles, having some trouble turning over a cold motor even when the battery was fully charged. I could've tried to refurbish the starter but the breaker insisted on giving me a used one for fifteen quid, so it hardly seemed worth the effort. New sparks plugs every 3000 miles were also necessary to maintain easy starting.

I didn't do all that much long distance work on the VT, mainly because I didn't have the time rather than being worried about any inherent fault with the Honda. Its riding position was mild, the seat comfortable, the suspension passable and engine vibes far from annoying. The stock handlebar fairing never did much to keep the wind off and my naked machine would conjure up a howling gale, come 90mph, that ruined shoulder, arm and neck muscles if held for more than a couple of minutes.

The most I did in one session was a circular ride of 375 miles. I was thankful to be back home. More a general weariness than any specific failing of the VT. Sitting on a motorcycle all day shouldn't be particularly hard work but it wasn't very relaxing, what with all the cagers out to get me, huge holes in the road and the odd cop car loitering with noxious intent. Maybe if I had a BMW boxer the bike would've inspired me to do 5000 mile weekends of Continental drifting, but the VT500, for all its virtues, never exactly sent me wild with passion.

What we have here is one fiendishly sane motorcycle made to the highest standards of ruggedness - the production engineer's dream bike rather than that of the designer. I can't be harsh on a cycle that has given such wonderful service and yet I can't find it within myself to find much to love about this machine. And here speaks a man who could spend hours praising the CB125S, just because it was his first bike, and could even spend some time on the joys of the CB400/4, even though it was slower and a lot less reliable than the VT. It's a pretty weird world.

Adrian Houston

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'Look, mate, the front end wasn't much cop to begin with. That enclosed disc was a real pig. Better off without, ain't you!' I'd been forced back into the DR game just as October was beginning. Needed some tough wheels quick. Which was how I came to clock the 1988 VT500. 40,000 miles, bent back front end, knackered wheel, broken handlebar fairing, etc. The owner was a fellow DR who'd graduated to a Revere.

VT's are well liked by DR's - enough power to kill the cages, okay frugality, useful narrowness, and handling whilst far from inspiring wasn't actually dangerous. Oh, and the motor was pretty tough, some of them going around the clock. The very early ones sometimes had dodgy top ends and didn't react too well to a lack of oil changes or the usual round of DR abuse.

500 notes changed hands and everyone was happy. What I forgot to mention to the owner was I had a blown VT tucked to the back of the garage. Did 124000 miles on it until the motor blew up, crankshaft failure making sure there wasn't anything left to salvage. The front end wasn't bad - on its third due to cagers throwing their autos's in front of the bike.

It's not actually my garage but my brother-in-law's. All he owns is a pushbike so he was more than willing to let me fill his garage up with my surplus junk. There was the matter of seeing him out on the town with another woman; luckily for him I never really got on with my sister. Anyway, I got my mate to pick up the bike and dump it outside the garage.

My sister came out to see which oily mess was ruining the ambience of her particular bit of suburbia. She laughed at my poverty stricken appearance, looked disgusted at the wreck and muttered something about me getting a proper job. By the time she'd finished the tirade I'd swapped the front ends and waved a cheery goodbye.

The VT's a vee twin that makes all of 50 horses, doesn't vibrate nastily and is generally a competent bike. Exciting it ain't; there's never enough power to really overcome its 400lbs, although it'll rumble up to a ton-ten on a good day. This particular example whirred away nicely but had rather vague handling, the bars shaking furiously when I hit 30 and 60mph. Also, the shaft drive whined like it had no oil in it. One DR got his shaft so hot that it welded up the joints!

Back into the business of hurtling across London at unlikely velocities. Twitching bars aside, my times weren't bad and the money started to roll in after a couple of weeks. The main thing about the bike when despatching is that it should fade into the background, all attention focused on the road ahead and the antics of the other vehicles. The VT was such a neutral, characterless machine that it was a natural for this role.

After 9000 miles of abuse, 49 thou on the clock, the top ends became so rattly they drowned out the rotted exhausts. Hmmm! Well, I didn't really want to lounge around all weekend doing nothing, did I? The cylinder heads didn't want to come off until I attacked them with a chisel and hammer. I wished I hadn't bothered, the exhaust valves had sunk into the heads and the rockers had turned plastic.

If you want to make a breaker laugh, phone up and ask if he has any good VT heads. The last ones were made eight years ago. I ended up visiting six breakers in order to buy all the bits separately! Luckily, I had the use of a VX800 for the weekend but there was no way he would let me take it despatching, not that it would've been much cop - too long and heavy to snap around the cages; lovely motor, though.

A quick assembly job that involved as much bodging as skill, had the VT running again but the gasps of blue smoke and tapping noises only served to convince me that I wouldn't last long as a mechanic.

A week later I had an accident. It was all the fault of a bicycle despatcher. These are normally treated with utter contempt by real DR's but this one was female, had a taut little body like an athlete and looked like she should have been on the cover of The Face. She wore some kind of Lycra clothing that clung like clingfilm to her perfect shape.

The worst possible thing you can do in life is ride into the side of a car with a raging erection. This redefined the meaning of pain when my groin bounced on the handlebars. The frail didn't even bother to stop and offer to massage me back into life.

There are cagers and then there are cagers. This was one of those ex-rugby player types with a macho moustache and a huge inferiority complex. Only the fact that I was rolling around the pavement clutching my balls and screaming my head off stopped him beating the shit out of me!

When I'd recovered enough to stand up a miraculous sight met my eyes. A new Rover with a huge dent in its side and a perfect looking VT, which was still wedged in the car, hadn't even topped over. Almost made the pain worthwhile. Almost.

It looked like a classic case of a cage running out of a side turning, not seeing the bike coming, rather than some oversexed idiot not looking where he was going! The police agreed with the former and ticked the driver off. They were even bigger than him so he couldn't give them any lip.

I handed over my artfully forged documents for scrutiny, got them back and got out of there fast. Amazingly, the wobbling of the bars had stopped! I had to take the rest of the day off as it was far too painful to sit on the saddle! I never saw that girl again and I'm beginning to believe I imagined her, far too beautiful to be hustling around London on a pushbike.

The VT carried on running to 56000 miles when the main bearings started knocking. I couldn't believe it after I changed the oil every 1500 miles. The big-ends had gone as well. The only good parts of the motor were the gearbox, bores and pistons.

I'd amassed a fair pile of money because there weren't that many idiots willing to work through the ice and snow - the neutral feel of the VT allowing me to get away with riding over some really treacherous road surfaces. I really wanted another couple of months before moving on, so put the word out for another motor.

I got lucky on the back of someone else's bad luck. Another DR had comprehensively mashed his VT, a 80,000 miler with nothing left except for the motor. I visited him in hospital, a terrible sight, encased almost totally in plaster; a fifty-fifty chance of walking again. I could have the remains for £200. I felt a bit like a coffin chaser but what the hell, life goes on.

The VT rattled, knocked and vibrated merrily away but seemed more powerful than the last one. A bit of blood and guts when 5000 revs were dialled in. I was losing it fast, though, going with the flow through the traffic becoming increasingly difficult. My nerve was beginning to go. I needed some R and R but I also wanted more dosh!

Two months later I packed it in. I had enough money and was worried by the close shaves every day. My reflexes were shot to hell. The VT was falling apart under me. I thought a quick going over would sort her out. Dump all the DR stuff, refresh the paint and clean up the alloy. It was great to get up when I wanted and not have to rush around like a lunatic. Relaxation was cleaning up the VT!

It looked good enough to ride around on for a while. I whacked a pin in the map. Bloody Glasgow. The next day I loaded the VT up with camping gear, put a smile on my face and headed out of London. This was March, by the way, and no sooner did I hit the M1 than it pissed down. 200 miles later the VT started running on one cylinder. WD40 worked. By the time I got to Glasgow I was all for selling it! My mate there knew someone who knew someone who might be interested. A few days later the VT was gone, £750.

A useful tool, but they are getting old nowadays. Buy one off an old codger's who done the maintenance chores, it'll probably go around the clock. Buy one from a DR, then the engine can blow up any time - some last for ever, others go knock, knock pretty damn quick. Not inspiring but when you need serious wheels, worth checking out.

Dick Lewis