Preparation of my new Moto Morini 350 Strada was less than perfect. The rear chain adjusted to imitate an iron bar and a dragging clutch. A quick look at the dealers workshop revealed why he hadn’t minded me doing the 600 mile service without invalidating the warranty.
Once home I took the clutch apart — the plates were carefully trued and high spots removed by the use of a piece of plate glass, blue marking and a dead smooth file, then all runout corrected by turning the engine over with the clutch held open whilst adjusting the spring pressures. The result was a perfect clutch.
Preparations for preserving my first new bike were then put in hand. Silencer internals coated with old engine oil, then baked on by running the engine. Underside of the chromed steel guards coated with underseal, the same done to the sidecovers and underside of the tank. All electrical connectors coated with Waxoyl. The dubious handlebar switches were opened and filled with Vaseline. Valve clearances were easy to adjust, the camshafts driven by a toothed belt, sparks by maintenance free electronic ignition.
Starting was soon mastered, set the choke on one carb, switch on (which also turned the fuel tap on thanks to an electronic relay) and give the kickstart a few prods. I did manage to train my left leg in this operation, but it was easy enough to stand by the side of the bike and use the proper leg.
Consumption of the four star was very moderate, even a motorway thrash couldn’t get it below 60mpg. Apart from the high efficiency of the Heron head motor, I think much of this fuel economy was down to the mere 320lbs the bike had to drag around the country; I could go on to say that other manufacturers should reduce weight in order to improve performance, rather than add more valves, cylinders, camshafts, radiators, discs, etc., etc. Years ago it was called adding lightness, but I can see you are yawning, so I’ll stop that old drivel.
On the road, performance was much like my old KSS Velocette, lovely ripping revs and steering that thought its own way through the bends. Six gears seemed one too many to me, so I often changed two at a time, the engine being flexible with no discernible power band. By the way, there was a cush-drive in the rear hub which enabled a snatch free lope through traffic without slipping the clutch.
Dog-leg brake and clutch levers weren’t about in those days, but the ball ended items fitted caused me no trouble and, of course, there were no hydraulics to clutter up the handlebar.
That brings me to the brakes, which were first class. My Strada had a TLS front brake that could squeal the tyre on a dry road - what more could you ask? Well, it also worked well in the wet, unlike many disc brakes available in the mid seventies. The Sport model had a double sided TLS job that must’ve been fearsome. Both bikes had a simple SLS rear brake which worked without threatening to lock up the rear wheel.
The riding position was a pain due to the forward mounted footrests, enthusiasts went in for after market rearsets, even more necessary on the Sport as that bike had clip-ons. On the motorway, against a head wind, it was necessary to play a tune on the gears, and forward progress was noticeably affected by the addition of a pillion.
With a rider only on twisty roads the bike really shone, with usable performance up to the ton and the ability to make Jap bikes look stupid in the bends. To do a bit of touring I fitted a pair of those nice slim Craven panniers that actually kept the water out, but soon learnt that standing on the footrests at speed to ease the bum ache provoked an instant steering wobble. However, it stopped just as suddenly when I sat down.
Although only used in fine weather and kept under a cover, in two years and 8000 miles the Strada deteriorated quickly, the chrome peeling from exhausts and wheels, and the paint bubbling on the tank and frame. So, I polished it up and sold it.
John Richards