Flashback to a misspent youth. 1976 the year,
just seventeen years old and a one-owner Honda CB125J that had
just broken through 10,000 miles. My first bike. And a very pleasant
experience it was. For the most part, a sprained wrist and gravel
rash knee, all part of the learning experience. In terms of numbers
- 65mph, 100mpg - the CB wasn't that impressive, the OHC thumper
mill always a little vibratory and never really settling down
to a relaxed thrum. Probably just my twitchy right wrist.
Forward to 1997. Wandering around the local
dealers, what do I spy but a CB125J. As tatty as could be but
I couldn't hide the big grin. As I'd turned up on a CBR600 the
dealer looked at me as if I'd gone completely insanely but quickly
recovered, telling me they were a classic in the making and with
a little bit of work I'd also have a useful runabout. It was only
after I signed the cheque that I came to my senses (400 notes
poorer!).
The bike at least ran - after riding the CBR
home and fixing a lift back I had my first ride. Culture shock
time! It felt tiny, more like a bicycle than a motorcycle, and
the only thing that seemed to happen when I opened the throttle
was an increase in noise. After rather intense examination of
the speedo I worked out that speed was, indeed, being gained!
The mileometer clicked on to 50,000 miles halfway from home.
If it took a while to wind itself up to a half
decent velocity, stopping was even more lackadaisical! A drum
at each end had seemed like the height of advanced technology
when I bought the bike in '76 but now I couldn't believe how appalling
they were. My braking distances, trained by a diet of replicas,
were hopelessly out of step with the Honda's abilities. Several
near misses and a couple of enraged cagers later, I learnt my
lesson!
Everything about the bike was basic in the
extreme, almost vintage. The lights and horn were definitely in
the latter category. The gearbox was more false neutrals than
forward gears, but I did recall that the first bike had been like
that and all it took was a bit of practice to perfect the change.
Hustling through the charming town of Luton, near the end of my
trip, it suddenly all came together and I charged through minor
gaps at a speed and ferocity that would've smashed the CBR's plastic
to bits. One advantage of buying an old hack is that you've got
nothing to lose if you hit something!
Swapping machines was a bit traumatising, as
often as not I'd give the CBR's front brake a muscular, desperate
squeeze, only to met with a howling tyre, skidding front end and
near heart attack. I started using the Honda for the 20 mile (round
trip) daily commute and because the rush-hour was so desperate
it was actually quicker, sneaking through tiny gaps and often
taking chunks out of the pavement. It was more a matter of massive
effort on the bars than using the brakes whenever I wanted to
stop in a hurry, easier and far safer to throw the bike around
things than to try to brake.
Of course, when a car slammed sideways into
my path there was nowhere to go but into the side of it. The ancient
forks, already weary from too many miles, snapped right off -
but only after the front wheel was buckled out of shape. The cage,
some expensive BMW, had a series of large dents in it, the owner
ranting and raving away about Hell's Angels. I told him that flattery
wouldn't get him off the hook and all but destroying a valuable
classic was going to cost him dear. However, motorcycle insurance
being what it is I decided not to claim and fixed the front end
up with even older Triumph 250 Trophy forks and TLS brake.
This made a remarkable improvement to stopping
distances, the Triumph's drum still not up to modern standards
but designed for a bike 100lbs heavier and 25mph faster. The Honda
would now stop on a dime from sub 50mph speeds, which was all
I needed in town. The commute became yet faster and, curiously,
even more economical at 120mpg against 100mpg with the old front
end. Why? Could only be because I was running the engine in a
more efficient rev range.
As winter drew closer I was thankful to have
an old if dependable hack to spare the CBR from the chores - all
the money I saved by using the CB went on some flash carbon fibre
bodywork and a noisy 4-1 exhaust for the big Honda. A truly splendid
looking and running device emerged but one that was actually more
of a pain during the commuting chores. Go figure.
The little Honda had at its heart a tough single
cylinder motor that originally emerged in the mid-sixties as a
150cc unit. Manual camchain adjustment, an old-fashioned set of
points and a sporadic need for a new spark plug, along with 500
mile oil changes, were its main needs. There were also a couple
of valves, with easy to adjust tappets, but they had so thoroughly
worn in their mating surfaces that they didn't need much attention.
I went over the bike carefully every time I did a 500 mile oil
change and it repaid these efforts with splendid reliability.
Until the heavy rains came when the mill kept
cutting out. This was down to the ancient HT lead losing most
of its insulation and a dodgy coil, cheaply replaced via the breakers.
The one thing that stopped me riding was the need to use the lights
at night - they just weren't up to modern standards. Not so much
that I couldn't see where I was going but that the cagers acted
like I was invisible. The marginal electrics would've gone up
in flames if I'd tried a more powerful lamp.
Nevertheless, given its age and mileage, a
remarkable bit of engineering that, believe it or not, I really
enjoy riding.
Charlie Slade